40 Three Survivors

"Kuting, thanks for that. But, it was actually unneeded," Victor spoke to his feline companion with a grateful smile. He acknowledged Kuting's efforts, even though he believed that the assistance had been unnecessary in this instance.

"Grahhh?"

Victor chuckled softly at Kuting's inquisitive response. "Yeah, you did a good job helping me out. But it turned out I didn't need the help this time."

"Grahhh?"

"Well, you see, even though I didn't need your help to defeat those humans, it was still useful. I learned something important about the zombies from that encounter. It seems they weren't naturally created, which means there might not be any more significant obstacles waiting for me."

"Grahhh?"

"Exactly, my friend. It's good to know that there aren't any hidden challenges waiting for us. We can continue on our journey with a bit more confidence."

"Grahhh?"

"Sure thing, Kuting. You go ahead and keep hunting. As for me, I'll continue my search for zombies to eliminate and keep thinking about my next steps. I don't want to endlessly level up; that would defeat the purpose of leaving the Rotting Land in the first place."

"Grahhh!"

With a nod of understanding from Kuting, the two parted ways briefly – each taking a different path to continue their respective tasks. Victor's path led him to another village, this one larger and seemingly more prosperous than the previous one. The houses were constructed from concrete and showcased a distinct Western influence in their design. However, amid the urban scenery, Victor couldn't help but notice remnants of metal scraps strewn about. These scraps held little value, but they often served as a point of pride for those who discovered them, feeding into various beliefs and superstitions.

His thoughts were interrupted by the presence of a lone zombie. Victor's lips curled into a knowing smile as he drew his newly acquired sword. The sensation of wielding a blade once again was deeply satisfying, evoking a sense of fulfillment that he had been craving.

With a single, graceful motion, Victor swung the sword, cleaving through the zombie's body. The sensation of the blade slicing effortlessly through the undead flesh was immensely satisfying, and he reveled in the feeling.

However, his attention was soon diverted by a peculiar sensation – a presence that he could sense but not entirely identify. It wasn't intuition or a mere gut feeling; it was something more tangible, a sense of familiarity.

Following his instincts, Victor paused and scanned his surroundings, attempting to pinpoint the source of this sensation. He felt drawn towards a particular direction, a pull that he couldn't ignore.

With cautious steps, he approached a nearby house. His intuition guided him to a basement door, and as he opened it, he was greeted by the sound of distressed cries. The voices belonged to three women, huddled together in a corner. Among them were two adult women who appeared to be around his age and a child they were trying to comfort.

"Stay there," one of the women spoke with a mixture of fear and determination, a dagger in her hand as she faced Victor.

Amused by the mismatched confrontation, Victor raised an eyebrow. "What are you planning to do with that dagger when I have a sword?"

"Stop right there or I'll kill you."

"I understand your concern, but I have no intention of causing harm. Can you share if you're survivors? I'm curious about why you were here when there were no zombies in sight."

The young woman's resolve wavered as Victor questioned her, and she hesitantly approached the door, pushing Victor back while scanning the surroundings. Upon seeing the absence of zombies, her doubt seemed to solidify.

"See?" Victor's voice held a touch of amusement as he moved to enter the basement. However, his intention was halted by the young woman with daggers who had stopped him in his tracks.

"Elisha, stop that! This man clearly is not a threat. He just helped us."

Victor let out a snort and directed his attention towards the young woman who had initially brandished the daggers. "Yeah, you know, I'm not exactly a threat here. It's a bit insulting to be treated like a potential enemy with those little knives. Anyway, I'm not entirely sure why you all are here, but I've got this odd sense of moral duty niggling at me. So, I'll lend a hand and help you find your way out of the village. Consider me your protector for now."

'Well, that's a load of crap,' Victor thought, a wry smile playing on his lips. 'When did Feral Demon start caring about moral duty? But then again, there's something intriguing about this dagger-wielding girl. And the other two seem to be from well-off families. If they decide to reward me for protecting them, I might just get a nice bonus.'

Victor's motives had shifted, now viewing situations through the lens of his current goals. Money had become a necessary tool, and he wasn't going to let a chance like this slip through his fingers. He saw potential connections and opportunities among these well-off individuals.

Meanwhile, outside the village, a group of five men clad in light armor were on a search. Their task: locating three young noble ladies who had fled their estate. Conversations among them revealed a mix of irritation and understanding for the young women's actions.

"Don't you think those young ladies went a bit overboard?"

"Shh, now. Let's not speak ill of the young ladies. Despite their unhelpful ways, they're still true angels. We should allow them some time to come to terms with the fact that their actions won't really save anyone. At least they acted with sincerity."

"Hmm, I suppose. Once they heard about the outbreak of that unknown disease that sent commoners into a panic, they grew worried and started talking about rescuing them and heading to the city."

"But they wouldn't listen to reason. We told them those villagers would seek refuge on their own. But they were too concerned it might be too late."

"And so, they fled. But does that justify their actions? They're just spoiled children who believe they're above everyone else. It doesn't even serve the lord well."

"Hey now, that's rather strong criticism for those of noble blood."

"Hmph! Nobility is a social label, not a mark of inherent virtue. And let's be clear, I serve their father, the Lord, not these girls. So, I'll say what I want."

"That's the same sentiment, really. But we're tuning you out now, brother."

"Fine, whatever."

After a few hours, just past noon, the group spotted a settlement in the distance. They recognized it as a sizable village, the nearest one to the city – a likely destination for the young ladies. As they approached the village, they raised their guards, fully aware that the villagers had abandoned their homes due to the outbreak.

Entering the village with caution, they were met with the sight they were searching for: the three young women, accompanied by a fourth person who appeared to be protecting them.