Chapter 193: The Sunsettia Chain Reaction
"Movoupanomita! (We've got poultry!)"
Under the lead of a hulking Mitachurl, two Hilichurl fighters and a Hydro Samachurl marched proudly back to their camp, arms full of freshly hunted fowl.
"Odomu! (Friend!)"
But the moment the Mitachurl spotted a Hilichurl archer collapsed on the watchtower, his instincts flared.
Without hesitation, he yanked the massive stone axe from his back.
It looked crude, but that thing could crush a Mondstadt Knight like a tin can.
"Yaika! (Enemy nearby!)"
The Hilichurl fighters also grew alert, igniting their torches with fierce grunts as they followed their boss into the camp.
Only the old Samachurl lagged behind, muttering some strange chant in a forgotten tongue, legs wobbling like they'd snap under his own robes.
The scene they stumbled into was... chaos.
Hilichurls lay scattered across the camp like tossed dolls—collapsed in awkward poses, moaning in pain.
Yet none appeared dead—just... unconscious.
"Odomu!"
The Mitachurl rushed to one of the more lucid Hilichurls and gently lifted him up, eyes filled with a dangerous fire.
If someone had dared hurt his comrades… he'd turn them into a pulp.
But to his surprise, the half-conscious Hilichurl didn't speak.
Instead, he shakily raised a trembling arm… and pointed to the nearby water vat.
"Dala? (What?)"
The Mitachurl followed the finger and quickly understood.
He's thirsty.
He turned to one of the fighters.
That Hilichurl wasn't the sharpest pickaxe in the cave, but it was quick to obey. From the folds of its torn leather skirt, it pulled out a cracked wooden bowl and skipped over to the water jar.
It scooped up a bowl of water—oblivious to the strange floating bits drifting inside.
They looked like fruit pulp, but who cared?
"Odomu!"
The Mitachurl received the bowl and brought it to his comrade's lips. The injured Hilichurl looked at the water with eyes full of horror.
Like it was… poison.
But with a Mitachurl's brains?
He just thought the guy was too weak to lift his head.
With the tenderness only a two-meter-tall murder machine could muster, he pried open the Hilichurl's mouth—and poured the whole bowl in.
Halfway through, the Hilichurl gave a final shudder and passed out, eyes rolling white.
"Todo, todo. (Leave it to me.)"
Seeing his friend "sleep peacefully," the Mitachurl finally exhaled.
He turned to his hunting team and gestured toward the firepit—time to cook dinner.
He would handle the heavy lifting and carry the injured back to their huts.
As the other Hilichurls carried their poultry over, they suddenly shrieked in alarm.
"Grah?!"
The Mitachurl tensed.
Has the attacker returned?
He snatched his stone axe and bolted toward the firepit.
But what he saw nearly made him faint.
Their cookware was gone.
Not just the pots. The milk. The vegetables. The firewood. Even the stove itself had vanished.
All that remained… was one tiny bowl of milk. Sitting pathetically on the ground.
The earth where the stove once stood was bare—save for a trail of human footprints.
Someone had looted them clean.
"ROOOAAAAR!!"
The Mitachurl howled at the sky, bloodshot eyes filled with despair.
His wails were so heart-wrenching that even the soldiers stationed at Kujou Encampment turned their heads.
"…What the hell's up with those Hilichurls?"
"They sound like someone just… shoved a spear up their—"
"Shut it! We've got bigger problems!"
Indeed, the soldiers had no time to worry about bandits raiding Hilichurl camps.
Because something far more troubling had just erupted in their own base:
Everyone who drank the camp's water today was acting… strange.
Even the newly appointed General Kujou wasn't spared.
After some quick investigation, the cause was found—something was seriously wrong with the water supply.
No one knew why, but the water the mess unit had fetched was unbearably sour. Especially the kind with pulp floating in it—one sip could reportedly drive a person to madness.
The new General Kujou had already begun handling the incident, but it remained to be seen whether anyone would get a hot meal tonight.
Meanwhile, somewhere farther off, a small campfire crackled gently.
White smoke curled into the night sky as Bai Luo casually tossed some dry twigs under the pot and leaned forward to sniff.
Fish soup.
Mm~ delightful.
"Sir, the little one seems fine," Sveta reported after giving Sayu a full check-up. "Honestly, she just looks like she's sleeping."
Sayu's signature little tanuki outfit had already been peeled off and was currently hanging near the fire to dry. It wouldn't do for her to fall ill from wet clothes.
Under the firelight, she really did look like a little raccoon being roasted over a spit.
Sveta didn't understand why the Harbinger would drag around something so small and fluffy.
If she recalled correctly, these so-called "ninjas" were part of Inazuma's intelligence units. Wouldn't this be the same as openly delivering classified information to the enemy?
But that was above her pay grade. Since this was an order from her superior, all she could do was follow it.
There had to be meaning behind the Ausbilder's actions.
So far, everything he'd done—every seemingly whimsical decision—had never once gone wrong.
"Don't worry. I've got a plan," Bai Luo replied casually.
He knew exactly what had messed Sayu up.
Sure, the Sunsettias he carried were a tad more sour than most fruits. But it wasn't like they were lethal.
So far, the only ones to suffer were Guoba—who had swallowed a whole one—and Beisht, who got the juice squeezed into her eye. And even they didn't die.
It's just a Sunsettia. What's there to be afraid of?
"Fish soup's ready!"
With a satisfied hum, Bai Luo poured the steaming contents into a ceramic basin nearby and turned toward the massive jar Sveta had carried in earlier.
The thing was brimming with Hilichurl-fresh milk.
"Well, since we're already here... might as well help ourselves," he said with a shrug.
He'd been generous enough to leave behind a token bowl for the Hilichurls. Everything else? Gone—jar and all.
Only now that the giant milk jug was here did Bai Luo realize... neither he nor Sveta could possibly finish that much.
More importantly, milk didn't exactly have a long shelf life.
If they didn't drink it soon, they'd be stuck with yogurt.
He glanced at Sayu's unconscious figure.
Well, she had guzzled quite a lot of water earlier. Her stomach seemed surprisingly resilient.
And kids were easy to fool anyway.
He'd just tell her drinking lots of milk made you taller. That'd do it.
Still seeing Sveta carefully tending to Sayu, Bai Luo turned back and picked out three clean ceramic bowls.
He ladled the soup generously into all three—then immediately picked up one for himself, slurping it down with great satisfaction.
First, the soup.
'Hmm... warm and savory. Perfect.'
Next, the vegetables.
'Not bad. Those Hilichurls had surprisingly decent taste.'
Finally, the fish—
The moment his teeth crunched into one, Bai Luo's face froze.
Right.
He suddenly remembered where those fish had come from.
They'd been... well-marinated, let's say.
Yeah. Maybe Sayu could have them. She was still growing, after all.
Without hesitation, he picked out every fish from his bowl and dumped them into Sayu's.
Then he sat back down with a sigh, glancing at his modest soup and vegetables... then over at Sayu's bowl, now piled high like a mountain of grilled fish.
"I really am a saint," he muttered, completely without irony.
. . . . .
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind to pay $5 monthly to read till the latest chapter, please go to my Patreon[1]
Current Chapter in Patreon: Chapter 236: So Who Really Lost Out?[2]
Link to the current chapter: https://www.patreon.com/posts/136292419?collection=174425[3]
https://www.patreon.com/collection/174425?view=condensed[4]
[1] https://www.patreon.com/collection/174425?view=condensed
[2] https://www.patreon.com/posts/136292419?collection=174425
[3] https://www.patreon.com/posts/136292419?collection=174425
[4] https://www.patreon.com/collection/174425?view=condensed