Miquella and Leda remained in Brea's house for the rest of the day, planning to leave the next morning. For the knightess, it was a much-needed rest, though still insufficient. For now, however, it would have to do.
The house had been completely ransacked, at least when it came to provisions. All of the food Brea had stored was placed on the table for Miquella and Leda to eat.
Miquella watched in amazement as Leda devoured several times more food than he could manage, and did so with surprising speed. Certainly, she had been starving over the past few days, but this exceeded any reasonable limit. Brea's food reserves were dwindling at an alarming rate.
Leda, too, was surprised by her own appetite. The food she was consuming wasn't particularly good; it consisted mostly of long-lasting provisions, with little of it fresh. Even so, she couldn't stop. She felt a hollow emptiness in her stomach that had to be filled at all costs. She continued eating without pause, though her body barely showed any sign of the massive amount of food she had consumed.
Neither of them realized that Leda was experiencing a temporary deficiency. In her own world, her great abilities were natural under its rules, but this new place worked differently. To maintain her power, she had to compensate for the difference, and one of the most basic ways was through nutrition. It wasn't that she needed to overeat all the time, but after her recent exertion and given the low quality of the food, her body demanded more than usual. Had she access to higher-quality food, her eating would have been far more moderate.
Miquella, for his part, wondered if he ate too little, but assumed his childlike body had a different metabolism. After a moment's reflection, however, he decided to force himself to eat more than usual.
The result was obvious: he ended up with his belly swollen, almost as if pregnant, while Leda, despite having eaten far more than him, showed no change in her body. With this, Miquella decided to test certain ideas. He rose from his chair and approached her, placing a hand upon her head.
"Leda, I'm going to try something. I don't know if it will work. If it doesn't, I'll be very weak and dependent on you," he said calmly, glancing at the ring on his hand.
Leda had no time to answer. Suddenly, she felt a cold current sweep through her head and a strange sensation, though she couldn't identify exactly what had changed. Then she looked at Miquella and saw his face suddenly grow pale.
Once again, Miquella felt his body drain of energy, but this time he smiled as he better understood the situation. A moment ago, he had tried to transfer the local language to Leda—and he had succeeded… or at least, he hoped so. Little by little, he was beginning to grasp the workings and requirements of the ring, and he had made a risky assumption that, apparently, had half-succeeded.
He felt his body burning out, but also sensed how the food he had eaten earlier helped to offset the exhaustion. Not that the food replaced the energy he lost, but it did seem to accelerate his recovery. In other words, his full stomach was allowing him to recover more quickly than usual.
"My lord?" asked Leda, worried at seeing him weak yet with a satisfied expression.
"I'm fine, Leda. You should now be able to understand the people here," Miquella replied, noticing that the knightess had unconsciously spoken to him in the native tongue of this land.
He lay down for a moment to recover. Fortunately, this expenditure of energy was far less than other things he had done before, such as casting the fire burst or summoning Leda herself. Moreover, his swollen stomach was already beginning to deflate quickly.
...
After tidying up Brea's house—meaning salvaging everything useful and valuable—Miquella and Leda went to bed early, hoping to recover enough strength for the journey they would begin at dawn.
There was only one bed, and though Leda showed reluctance to share it with her lord, insisting on giving it up to him entirely, Miquella refused to be persuaded. In part, because he wanted something to hold onto… he still felt the weight of the loneliness that had accompanied him before he found her.
That night, he slept deeply, his head buried against Leda's chest. For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt truly safe and comfortable. Leda, meanwhile, took longer to fall asleep. Her lord's sudden affection unsettled her, making her wonder what had happened to cause these changes…
But in the end, fatigue overcame her, and both slept until the next morning.
Upon waking, they quickly prepared for their journey. Since everything had been organized the day before, they only needed a few minutes to wash up, eat, and pack the provisions. However, just as they were about to leave, something surprised them.
A sound tore through the silence of the house. Something was scratching at the door.
Leda reacted at once, drawing her sword with the intent to strike down any threat that dared approach her lord. She strode to the entrance and flung the door open, ready to attack… but then had to look down.
Miquella froze.
Brea was crawling with difficulty, using her hands to drag herself forward. Her chest still bore the gaping hole that had caused her death, but her eyes were vacant, lifeless, and her skin pale and stiff.
A moving corpse.
Leda sighed. To her, this was nothing unusual. In her homeland, the undead were part of the everyday landscape. Without hesitation, she raised her sword to deliver the final blow and end the thing that defied its death sentence.
But before she could strike—
"Leda, stop!" Miquella ordered, his expression growing darker by the second.
Leda turned to him, bewildered.
"Bring her here," he added, his voice firm yet laden with an emotion difficult to decipher.
Before going to sleep, he had carried Brea's body outside, behind the house. Miquella had not yet decided whether to grant her a proper burial or simply inform the nearby folk, something he had planned to do today in his search for answers.
He had never imagined seeing her move again.
And though he understood that the undead existed in the place he presumed himself to be, they were not common enough to appear here and now. He had once had a hunch as to where they might be found, but this… this did not fit.
Without question, Leda grabbed the arms of the shambling corpse and dragged it with ease into the center of the room. She didn't understand why her lord seemed so shaken, but his orders were absolute.
Miquella watched with a furrowed brow, his mind racing to process what lay before him. Something was very, very wrong.
Brea lay on the floor, emitting involuntary groans, incapable of speech. Moving seemed extremely difficult for her, which suggested she had crawled all night to reach the house's door.
Anyone who saw her would think she was a simple zombie in search of living flesh, but her behavior was different. She lay on her back, eyes fixed on Miquella, who stood just inches from her head. Her hands reached into the air as though trying to grasp something, while her mouth opened and closed, tongue flicking in an unsettling gesture. She didn't seem to want to bite… not exactly.
If one paid close enough attention to her hungry eyes and the direction in which they were fixed, it was clear what she desired.
Miquella… Or, more specifically, the little Miquella.
It was astonishing how, even after death, that woman clung to the same unyielding fixation on children's bodies. Her intellect seemed almost entirely gone, reduced only to her most basic impulses. And yet, somehow, her desire remained, rising even above any other need.
Leda, upon witnessing the shameless display given by that dead woman, wanted to finish her off at once. But her lord's orders were clear, so she held herself back and merely incapacitated her to ensure she couldn't cause any harm.
Miquella, meanwhile, walked in circles around Brea, observing her closely, trying to unravel her secrets. With each passing second, his confusion about this world grew deeper. He didn't want to believe he was trapped in a universe straight out of The Walking Dead, but neither could he ignore the evidence before him.
Were all the undead of this world the same as those he knew? At first glance, Brea was no different from the undead of the Lands Between… perhaps a bit weaker.
His study absorbed him so thoroughly that time slipped by, robbing them of the chance to leave early as planned. But Miquella couldn't afford to let it go; he needed answers, though every new revelation only left him more bewildered.
"Have I truly left the Lands Between?"
As he tried to sort through his thoughts, he also had to endure Brea's intense gaze, as though she wanted to strip him with her eyes. She wasn't interested in devouring him like a traditional zombie—no. Her only wish was to complete what she hadn't managed in life. Ironically, this kept her from becoming aggressive.
After much observation, Miquella ended up lost in thought, pacing back and forth, ignoring both the dead woman on the floor and Leda, who sat silently on the bed.
There were too many ideas in his head, too many uncertainties. But he knew he couldn't remain like this forever. Inaction would solve nothing. He had to decide what to do with Brea.
Leaving her as she was would endanger the people here. He had no idea how common the undead were in this place—whether she was an isolated case or something as ordinary as in his homeland. Taking her with them was a possibility… but with everything already against them, burdening themselves with a walking corpse would only make things worse.
His eyes fell on the ring upon his finger.
Then on Brea.
He weighed certain possibilities.
A new experiment began to take shape in his mind.
He knew he was playing with fire, that attempting to wield an unknown power was reckless. But in his current situation, he truly had nothing to lose.
He still didn't understand what his role in this world was.
Was this a second chance?
Should he seize it?
That was why he made a risky decision. If he was right, his life would become safer and simpler. If he failed… well, his situation could become even worse. But he was already in a dangerous place, in the weakest state he could remember. One step further wouldn't make much difference.
Miquella approached Brea until he was right over her, sitting on her abdomen. With precise movements, he removed the clothing covering her chest, baring not only her breasts but also the massive hole in the center of her torso, where Leda's sword had pierced her through.
The undead woman seemed increasingly excited, as though living out the moment she had always dreamed of.
Yet, even if Brea tried to move more intensely, she could do little. Leda had ensured she was practically immobilized.
Miquella placed both hands on the woman's bare chest and closed his eyes. At the same time, he could feel Brea's excitement mounting even further.
"It's good that you enjoy this…" he murmured solemnly. "I hope it makes up for what I plan to do… if it even works."
Leda watched the scene in silence. Her lord was on top of that filth, touching her without hesitation, as pure as he was. But she knew that woman was not worthy of such treatment. She merely awaited the signal to end Brea once more…
Then, she saw something.
Miquella frowned as he felt a burning sensation in his finger.
The ring.
It wasn't a physical burn, but the pain was real, searing, as though something within him was reacting. He was attempting something dangerous, but he couldn't ignore the idea that had haunted him since analyzing his ring. It was the first time he had tried anything like this, and it was not easy, especially when he encountered a certain resistance.
In truth, he wasn't sure what he was doing. His lack of experience kept him from fully grasping the process. He could only follow his instinct.
Brea's body began to turn paler.
Not only her skin, but also her clothes.
She was becoming slightly translucent, and tiny white particles began to detach from her body, floating all around her.
Miquella felt drops of sweat sliding down his forehead. His mind was entirely focused on finishing what he had begun.
Leda, for her part, stayed on guard, gripping her sword tightly. If her lord needed her, she would intervene immediately. But it wasn't necessary.
After a few minutes, Brea's body vanished completely.
All the white particles gathered into Miquella's hands.
The problem was that Miquella was not well.
Not because he felt pain or exhaustion, but because, at the very moment he completed the process, he felt that something—or someone—was watching him from afar.
Something incredibly powerful. It lasted only an instant. But it was enough to make the boy break into a cold sweat. He didn't know what it was. He couldn't see it.
And yet, the tension in his body didn't fade until he lowered his gaze and noticed what was floating just a few centimeters above his hands.
Only then did he realize why he had felt those eyes upon him.
And at the same time, he confirmed that in this world, forces existed that were far more powerful than he had imagined.
Leda stepped closer, curious.
"What is that?" she asked.
Miquella didn't take his eyes off what he was holding.
"It's Brea…" he replied. "Or rather, Brea's rune. Brea's small rune."
Before him floated a small circle of light with intricate details inside it. Its color was a mixture of white, ash, and violet.
There was no doubt.
It was the same format as the runes he knew.
"Is that truly a rune?" Leda asked, with a mix of surprise and confusion.
"More or less…" Miquella sighed with a trace of sorrow. "In essence, this is Brea. Not just a simple rune… I… broke her cycle of life and death. She can no longer reincarnate or do whatever happens to souls here… Well, maybe she can, but the method would be different." His voice carried both doubt and reasoning, as though he were trying to process a strange idea.
What he had done was monumental in some ways… but not necessarily good. The gaze he had felt earlier was proof enough. He had just torn Brea away from the rules of death, and who knows what else he had disturbed in the process.
Something that, in theory, no mortal hand should ever be able to accomplish.
"All of Brea is here," he continued, staring at the floating rune. "Her soul has become this… I used her body as fuel to make it happen. I didn't know what I was doing, but I did it."
Miquella understood that the final outcome was different from what he had imagined, but at least he had confirmed what he wanted.
"It seems… Brea will still be able to accompany us after all. She'll be of use."
Leda frowned. The woman's existence still bothered her, but at least she felt some relief at seeing her disappear. And if she understood correctly, now she was completely at her lord's mercy.
"How?" she asked, reluctantly.
"This rune… works differently from the ones we know."
Miquella paused, meditating, trying to grasp the object's nature. As its creator, he felt a strange bond with it, which allowed him to understand its function better than anyone else.
"It can cling to a person, or even to a weapon or object, granting it certain traits. Though in this case, I doubt it'll work for that. Even if it enhances someone, the change won't be significant… and it will come with consequences that won't necessarily be positive."
For a moment, he wished he had an information panel, like in the game, to check the rune's stats. But he had nothing of the sort. All he had was a vague feeling—intuition rather than concrete knowledge.
A slight increase in strength and spirit? Insignificant.
A minor boost in weaving and sewing skills? Barely useful.
The ability to deal more damage to small children? Disturbing… and besides, the bearer would also take more damage from them.
Certainly not anything impressive, but the worst part was something else. The reason it had been so difficult to complete the process.
Although the difficulty came from the fact that this rune contained Brea's soul, it also held her will. Something Miquella had to subdue in order to succeed.
At first, he hadn't even intended to make a rune. But by the time he realized what he was truly doing, it was already too late to regret it.
He had torn Brea from her death cycle, and her will was still there. That meant that whoever bore this rune… would likely suffer additional effects. For example…
'A strong desire for children.'
Miquella tried to explain his discovery to Leda, although he wasn't sure if she fully understood it. The knight looked at the rune with contempt, finding nothing impressive about it. For her, that essence was still as filthy as the woman it came from. She coldly suggested getting rid of it, but Miquella refused.
He felt responsible for Brea. If he were to break the rune, it would be like erasing her existence completely, something he couldn't allow. Even if it was just as a memory, he decided to keep it.
In the end, Miquella made a decision: to test the rune on himself. Leda questioned his choice, reminding him of the problems the rune could cause him.
"I'm a child, what's so strange about me liking other children? Do you want to use it, you who will accompany me for the rest of your life when I will never grow up?" (Miq-)
Leda was silent, not knowing how to respond to those words. Miquella stared at her, as if trying to figure out if she had 'that' in common with Brea.
Finally, he brought the rune to his shoulder. It seemed to sink into his skin and, shortly after, a tattoo with the same design appeared on his body. Immediately, he felt something different: Brea's presence, or rather, the feeling he had of her. It was as if it surrounded him, hugging him and covering him completely.
The improvements were minimal, although in his condition as a child he noticed it more than others. Maybe it had been a good decision, a way to compensate a little for his weaknesses. However, he also noticed something else... something strange. He looked at himself and a strange desire arose, an unknown warmth for his child's body began to fill him, although his own body did not react properly.
Miquella couldn't help but bring his hand to his crotch and touch himself there, feeling such strange emotions. Then he also used his other hand to touch other parts of his body, his soft skin so comfortable and something he'd never noticed before. An intense emotion arose, unknown to the childlike Miquella, though it was not unknown to his life on Earth. He became caught up in new and unfamiliar feelings and ignored Leda, who watched in embarrassment as he touched himself, with an expression of peace and delight.
The moment didn't last long. Miquella took a deep breath until he managed to overcome the sensations and try to restrain himself, although he didn't really want to. It wasn't the time to get distracted with minor matters; they had already lost enough time. But he had learned something important: the ring could not only consume its own essence, but it could also absorb that of other beings, using them as a sacrifice. Of course, to achieve this, he had to overcome the will of those he tried to use.
In the future, he would have to study more about it and discover the secrets and shortcuts of what, for now, seemed to be his most powerful weapon in this unknown world.