CHAPTER 13: THE FIRST MIRACLE (1)

The sun rose, cruel, over our makeshift camp.

We had slept directly on the ground, covered with patched coats and old rags scavenged from the ruins of the last camp. Nothing comfortable: the stone had still bruised my ribs, the damp clung to my clothes, and my mouth carried that rancid taste of dust. But that wasn’t what twisted my stomach.

It was her. Hikari.

Lying a few steps away from me, wrapped in a coat far too big, the fabric fallen open across her pale thighs. Her chest still rose in uneven breaths, her parted lips seemed to keep the trace of my kisses from last night. Her skin... fuck, I still had her warmth imprinted in my palms, the dampness of her sex on my cock, her moans in my throat.

I clenched my teeth. The tightness in my pants confirmed what my body hadn’t forgotten. Even here, in the filth, my mind screamed regret, but my dick already demanded to sink back into her.What the hell had I done? Fuck, what the hell had I done?

A rustle froze me. She stirred, her eyelids fluttered, and her red eyes opened slowly. Her makeshift kimono had slipped off one shoulder, revealing the fragile curve of her neck and part of her breast. Her cheeks ignited instantly. So did mine.

Our eyes met. A second. One fucking second too long.I turned my head away, almost violently, my heart pounding. She did the same, pulling her coat tight around herself, but her fingers trembled.

Not a word. Not even a sigh. The silence weighed heavier than a sword at my throat.

We packed our things, avoiding even brushing against each other. Reina was already up, impassive, her hair neat as if the night hadn’t touched her. Miyu stretched with a yawn, her breasts almost spilling from her too-loose kimono, and muttered:

— "Pfouah... what a shitty night..."

Without realizing there had been one far worse for the two of us.

Ayame watched us silently. Her gentle smile didn’t change, but I felt as if she saw too much. I averted my eyes at once.

The march resumed. I took the lead, heavy steps, lance gripped tight in my hand. Behind me, I heard her steps. Hikari. Not too close, not too far. Every time I slightly turned my head, her eyes fled. My back dripped with sweat despite the cold of the morning.

Every rustle of cloth, every breath of hers... dragged me back to yesterday. My body still vibrated from that forbidden night. My mind prayed to forget it. But I already knew it was impossible.

We walked for hours, not a word spoken.

The sky had whitened then turned gray, a veil of dust hanging, swallowing the light. My legs were heavy, but it was my skull that pounded: every step echoed like punishment for what I had done yesterday. Hikari still followed behind me, her breath short, her steps measured. Our eyes hadn’t met again. And maybe that was better.

Then, around a charred grove, we saw it.

The village. Or what was left of it.

Collapsed huts, roofs torn away like the carcasses of gutted beasts. Rotten planks flapped in the wind, shutters dangled, and the smell... a dry, bitter stench of dust and hunger. It stuck in your throat.

Between the wrecked houses, a few figures. Too thin to be real. Walking skeletons, skin clinging to bones, eyes sunk into oversized sockets. Men, women, children: all hollow, all exhausted, like ghosts waiting for death in silence.

A little girl staggered past us. Her legs were so thin they trembled under her own weight. Her belly, swollen with hunger, looked grotesque beneath her torn shirt. She lifted her head toward us, and a cloud of flies detached from her face only to settle back at her cracked lips.

I froze. Fuck...

— "... Nii-san..." whispered Hikari behind me. Her voice trembled. When I turned, her eyes already glistened with tears. She clapped a hand over her mouth, unable to bear the sight.

An old man approached, bent so far it seemed his back longed to break and be done with it. His gray beard stuck to his creased skin, his fingers shook on a staff too tall for him. Yet his eyes remained sharp, hard, despite the hunger.

— "You... are you envoys?" His rasp tore at the air. "Priests, soldiers?"

I shook my head. He spat, but he didn’t even have enough saliva to reach the ground.

— "Then you can’t do anything for us."

I took a step, but Reina cut me off with an icy tone.

— "Speak, old man. Tell us your situation, perhaps we can help."

The old man stared at her for a moment. Then, in a bitter breath:

— "For two years, the local noble tripled the taxes. Those who don’t pay are hanged. The harvests weren’t enough already... but that’s not all."

He raised a trembling finger toward the horizon, where a column of black smoke rose.

— "He built his factory of magical weapons. The waste flows into our rivers. The fish die, the water poisons the land. The fields are sterile. Even the beasts refuse to drink. We... we’re only living on borrowed time."

A heavy silence followed. The wind clattered through the boards of a fallen house, and somewhere, a child coughed—a dry, hollow sound, like the rattle of the dying.

— "Bastard!" Miyu exploded. Her eyes blazed, her fingers clenched on her katana. "Let him rot! Let him burn in his own flames! I’ll go there and—"

— "Enough." Ayame cut her off, her voice firm, almost glacial. She laid a hand on her daughter’s shoulder to restrain her. "If we rush blindly, we’ll save no one here."

Hikari, though, broke down sobbing. She fell to her knees before the emaciated little girl, clutching her skeletal hands, squeezing her thin fingers between hers.

— "We’ll help you! I swear it!" she cried, her voice breaking. Tears streamed down her cheeks, falling into the dust.

Reina sighed, cold as ever. Her eyes scanned the ruins, the hollow bodies.

— "We must first understand. The soil. The water. Their composition." Her tone was dry, scientific, without a trace of warmth. "Without analysis, no solution will hold."

I bit my lip. Ayame met my eyes. She held that terrible calm, almost inhuman. Her heavy breasts rose slowly beneath her dust-stained kimono, but her voice remained steady:

— "We will find a method. A solution. Let’s remain here in the meantime."

The old man lifted his gaze, surprised, almost disbelieving. But his face showed no hope. Only that exhausted waiting that already resembled resignation.

Me... my throat tightened. Because for the first time since we had set foot in this world, I realized that here... innocents could die without ever being touched by a blade.

My fingers still trembled as I leaned Aurelia against the cracked wall. The old man’s words echoed in my skull, but another voice buzzed louder: the Voice of the World. Its notifications. The ones I had too quickly ignored, drowned in the chaos of the dungeon.

One detail returned, sharp, clear. At level 2, a line I hadn’t heard but had felt instinctively: Genesis can reduce its mana cost if the object’s composition is precisely known.

At the time, I hadn’t paid attention. I had been too busy surviving. But now... that could change everything.

— "Listen to me." My voice cracked out, dry, unexpected. The girls turned to me. "Genesis... I think it can create more than usual. If I know an object’s composition perfectly, I can generate it with far less mana."

A silence. Then Miyu sneered.

— "What? You’re gonna spit out three loaves of bread?" She swung her katana as if slicing an imaginary baguette, her predatory smile clashing with the rage in her eyes. "And then you’ll collapse?"

— "This isn’t a joke." My throat was dry. "It’s what I feel. The problem is... I don’t know all the compositions. Not enough."

Reina narrowed her eyes. Her voice, glacial, cut clean:

— "Then we need that knowledge. The atoms, the structures, the ratios. Without that, you’re just a kid playing with sparks."

Ayame sighed, but her gaze gleamed sharper. She crossed her arms, her kimono tightening over her chest as if to emphasize her authority.

— "Then we will complete your gaps."

Hikari, crimson but determined, timidly raised her hand.

— "Bread... I know what it takes. Flour, water, a little salt. I can explain the nutritional basics, enough to feed without killing."

Reina folded her arms, her scepter across her chest, and added in a cutting tone:

— "Water is H₂O. Salt, NaCl. Flour is mostly starch, a glucose polymer. There’s also some protein, gluten, and simple sugars. Not perfect, but if you want it to hold... you must visualize each element. Atoms, bonds, proportions."

Ayame added gravely:

— "Not just raw matter. Bread is a structure. Air trapped in the dough, water retained in the starch. If you create a compact block, they won’t be able to digest it."

I bit my lip. Fuck... it wasn’t just "a magic bit of flour." I had to recombine everything, cell by cell, molecule by molecule. My brain boiled.

I closed my eyes.

Flour. Starch: long chains of glucose, C₆H₁₀O₅ repeated. Protein: gluten, for elasticity.Salt. NaCl, simple, clear.

Water. H₂O, two hydrogens for one oxygen.

I had to assemble it all. But not raw. Mix, hydrate, trap air, solidify with heat. A soft crumb, a light crust. Not a brick.

My breath caught. I focused on everything—Reina’s words, Hikari’s details, Ayame’s grave advice. I tried to see bread as a diagram, a map of molecules linked, organized, baked, ready.

But instinctively, I felt something soothe me, fill me with certainty despite the task’s difficulty—as if the world itself was helping me.

So, I raised my hand.

— "... Genesis."

A golden flash burst out. The air tore, particles wove together before my eyes, as if the void itself kneaded an invisible dough. The light condensed, began to swell. The smell came first, warm, familiar—the scent of flour baking, wafting from an oven. Then the weight appeared in my hands.

When the glow faded, a rough loaf rested in my palm. Warm. Steaming. The crust cracked under my trembling fingers. The simple but living smell filled my nostrils. I stayed frozen, panting, as if I had torn this piece of bread from the gods themselves.

I clutched it to my chest. A fucking treasure.

— "The problem now is the bread itself," Reina muttered after a brief glance. "Their weakened stomachs couldn’t handle it. They’d vomit it before digesting."

Hikari leaned in at once, her hair brushing my cheek, her chest pressing against my arm. I felt her warmth even through dirt and cloth.

— "We need to soften it, reduce it, with hot water... why not make a bread soup?"

I swallowed, focused.

— "... Genesis. Water."

A translucent container appeared, overflowing with clear liquid. Reina dipped a finger, brought it to her lips, her icy eyes gleamed.

— "Perfect, it’s pure!!"

Hikari broke the loaf into tiny pieces, dropped them into an old rusted cauldron we had found. Miyu snapped her fingers, a red flame leapt out—she could now control heat with her level 2 advancement—and the soup began to boil.

The smell spread, simple, comforting.

Hikari served the first portion to a little girl—the one we had seen stumbling earlier. Her bony hands trembled as she held the bowl. She swallowed a spoonful. Her face tensed first, as if her body refused to believe. Then her eyes widened. Tears welled, streaming down her hollow cheeks. She let out a mute sob.

— "... Thank you..."

Her voice was nearly gone, but it pierced me more violently than any blade.

I clenched my fists. Fuck. This time... we had really saved someone.