CHAPTER 144: CHAPTER-144

And the petals?

Tea.

She’d heard of it before—lotus tea. Calming, light. Maybe... just maybe, it could help with her headaches.

With her arms full and her feet soaked, Kaya walked back toward camp—her mind already planning what she could do next.

After returning to camp, Kaya quickly changed into dry clothes. She’d barely finished tying the last knot on her sash when all the groups began to return—one after another, almost in sync.

Maybe it was because she was human and they were beastmen, but still—it amazed her how fast and efficient they were.

First came the hunting team.

They brought back an assortment of wild creatures that honestly made Kaya stop and blink.

One of them was... well, it looked like a rabbit—but was completely covered in long, thick hair, like it hadn’t been brushed for a decade. Kaya could barely find its eyes through the fur.

Another creature resembled a duck—but with a thick, wide beak that looked more like a platypus than anything else. Its body, though, waddled just like a duck, so she reluctantly accepted the name "duck-platypus."

And then came the real shocker.

Wild roosters.

No—fighting roosters.

They were huge, plump, and puffed up like they were ready to throw hands with anyone who looked at them wrong. Kaya stood frozen for a second, staring at one particularly round bird who seemed to be glaring right back at her.

"Okay," she muttered. "We’re not going hungry anytime soon."

Apparently, the hunters had managed to catch thirty of these small animals in total. That much abundance made sense—small prey often thrived in unclaimed, open areas like this, especially when no predators were around to challenge them.

Next came the flyer team.

They returned, flapping down proudly, each carrying what looked like a forest’s worth of greenery.

Leaves. Fruits. Herbs. Unknown plants.

They dumped five full baskets—five—at her feet, like they’d cleaned out every tree in the region.

Kaya stared at the pile and sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Well... looks like I’ve got homework tonight."

And then came the heavy labor team—the real overachievers.

They brought back enough material to build a small fort.

One mountain-sized mound of chopped firewood. A second mound of thick stones stacked neatly like bricks. And another pile of long, solid timber logs lined side by side.

Kaya just stood there, looking at the three towering mounds of materials with a blank expression.

"...Did you all fight a forest?"

They grinned.

She sighed.

"Fine," she said, turning away. "Let’s get to work."

Cutie, as usual, had already taken charge of the cooking with a few wild vegetables and roots. At Kaya’s request, he was also preparing the lotus root she had brought earlier—sliced carefully with stone knives and simmering in a simple broth.

Meanwhile, Kaya stood at the center of the chaos.

Specifically: in the middle of five giant baskets.

She had asked the flyers to pour out just one of them—the one filled with fruits—because, well... fruits were easier to start with.

At least, she thought so.

Squatting beside the first pile, she began sorting.

Some fruits she recognized immediately—just... bigger versions than what she was used to. A little intimidating, honestly, but familiar enough to be placed in the "edible" pile.

Others? She had no idea. Strange colors, weird skins, some that smelled like wet socks.

Those were pushed into a "don’t know, don’t trust" pile.

She called over a few beastmen to take a look. Maybe they’d seen these before.

Some they confirmed were edible—even tasty. Others they warned were mildly poisonous. A few left them scratching their heads, too.

Those went into the "figure it out later or burn it" pile.

After two hours, Kaya finally leaned back with a sigh, wiping her forehead with her sleeve. Two baskets of fruit—done. Sorted, labeled (in her head, at least), and set aside.

She looked up.

And groaned.

Still left: three baskets.

All filled to the brim with leaves.

And not just any leaves—big ones, small ones, flat ones, fuzzy ones. Some looked like spinach, others like paper fans. One even curled up the moment she touched it.

"Great," Kaya muttered, hands on her hips. "Leaf hell."

Behind her, the smell of lotus root stew started drifting in the air.

Even while chopping wood, the Nikala beastmen couldn’t help it—the smell from the cooking area made their mouths water.

Lotus root stew. Wild vegetables. Real meat. Salted meat.

They had never even dreamed of food like this.

When this strange, bold female had first brought them here, most of them had assumed the worst. Another brutal life. More orders, more fear. More cages, less food.

But what they got... was the exact opposite.

Here, they ate not just food—but good food. Food with salt. With flavor. And not once had Kaya raised her voice without reason. Not once had she spoken to them without a measure of respect.

To be honest, most of them had never even been looked at with that much respect before.

This—this was the first time in their lives that they had eaten like this.

And Kaya?

Kaya simply sat there, quietly observing, sipping a bit of the broth as she watched the beastmen work.

The effectiveness of these people—this group she had half-inherited, half-commanded—was something else entirely.

Back in her world, just building a small cage by herself took twenty minutes.

But here?

With nothing more than a pointed look and a few gestures from her, the Nikala beastmen had already built a large, sturdy holding pen—big enough to house all the birds and captured prey.

They’d constructed the upper frame using straight, even sticks—layered like the bars of a jail—and reinforced the sides and base, so none of the animals could escape.

Clean. Fast. Solid.

It wasn’t fancy, but it worked. And it was enough.

Kaya leaned back slightly, arms crossed, lips quirking into a small smile.

Cutie stirred the pot one last time, then lifted the ladle, pouring the golden broth into carved wooden bowls. The lotus root slices floated softly, surrounded by wild greens and slivers of meat. Steam curled upwards, catching the soft glow of the firelight.