CHAPTER 163: CHAPTER-163.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was solid enough for the animals to stay at least two nights or maybe even a few days. The frames were tightly bound with thick vines and woven ropes, braced together in overlapping triangles like a forest-fort built in haste.

Kaya stepped closer, running her hand lightly across one of the tied poles, testing its strength. It didn’t budge.

"Good," she whispered.

She looked over at Vayu, who had been awkwardly standing near Cutie, still nursing his pride from earlier. For a brief second, their eyes met.

He quickly looked away.

Kaya smirked, just faintly, then turned back to the animals.

After taking a brief rest, Kaya dusted off her hands and stood up, her eyes scanning the area where the animals were kept. She called over a few of the burliest Nikala beastmen—ones who looked like they had seen their fair share of survival battles. As they gathered around her, she gestured towards the animals with a curious but cautious gaze.

"Can you tell me what they’re used for?" she asked, her voice thoughtful.

While some of these creatures resembled animals she’d seen back on Earth—cows, goat-like creatures, even something that looked suspiciously like a massive, fur-covered wolf—they were also bigger, sturdier... and frankly, a little intimidating. Kaya wasn’t sure whether these animals were gentle giants or hidden predators in disguise.

The beastmen nodded and moved to inspect the creatures. They touched them, murmured in their native tongue, and finally began to report back.

"These cows," one of them said, patting the thick side of a bulky, horned animal, "give milk. Good milk. Strong babies. Can be useful later too."

Kaya gave a small nod. She had already decided—these cows wouldn’t be killed. They were far too valuable alive. She wasn’t here to waste; she was here to build something that could last.

Then came the furrier animals—ones that could be used for milk but weren’t as productive or quick to reproduce. Kaya narrowed her eyes at them, then turned to the beastmen.

"Useful?" she asked, gesturing with a slight tilt of her head.

One of the men shook his head. "Slow. Few babies. Not much milk."

Kaya let out a breath and nodded again, her expression firm but not cold. "Then... use them. But cleanly."

Her gaze then landed on the creatures that resembled wolves—majestic, wild, and dangerous-looking. She raised an eyebrow. "Them?"

The beastmen looked among themselves before replying. "Old one, not worth. Can kill. But young one... if trained, can protect. Like... guardian."

Kaya paused, her lips pressing together thoughtfully. There was a flicker of something warmer in her eyes.

"Spare the young," she finally said. "Train them well. We’ll need more than walls out here."

By the end of the inspection, more than half of the animals were spared. Kaya instructed the beastmen to begin crafting a sturdy pen—something warm and enclosed, strong enough to hold through the cold winds.

As for the rest, she gave clear orders.

"Clean the hides thoroughly. Skin them right—no mistakes. Slice the meat thin, salt it well, and lay it out to dry."

One of the younger beastmen glanced at the cloudy sky. "Sun... not strong."

"It’ll take four, maybe five days," Kaya replied with a shrug. "But it’ll dry. Just be patient."

There was no hesitation. The beastmen nodded and moved to work without question.

As they left, Kaya sighed softly, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face as the wind caught them. In this small group, there were all kinds of beastmen. It was almost... fascinating. Some spoke so directly, almost rudely—but there was something refreshing about that honesty. Some spoke with an air of formality, way too politely and stiff, like every word came out under some unspoken pressure, probably shaped by the place they came from or how they were treated.

Some didn’t speak at all—like they physically couldn’t. Mute, perhaps. And then there were ones like him. Broken. Wounded in places no one could see.

Not that she minded. Everyone carried something. But then her gaze drifted—locked onto Vayu.

Something about him just—clicked. A switch flipped in her mind.

Without a word, she turned and walked straight to the burly beastman nearby, her steps firm and fast. Vayu noticed it a second too late. She pointed at him while whispering something to the man.

Vayu felt it immediately—a chill slid down his spine like ice water. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned his head to look.

And there she was.

Kaya stood with her arms crossed, talking calmly to the beastman. Then, as if feeling his stare, she looked directly at him—and smiled. That bright, innocent, I’m-about-to-end-you kind of smile.

In that moment, Vayu just knew. He had messed up.

And sure enough, by the time the sun climbed halfway across the sky, Vayu was being dragged around like a rag doll. The beastmen barked orders, one after another, sending him from one task to the next. Lift this. Fetch that. Tie this. Untie that. Not a single break.

He was sweating buckets. He tried to argue once—and was promptly handed something heavier.

No one said it aloud, but everyone knew—this was Kaya’s revenge.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and night settled over the woods, the scattered scent of spices and roasted meat floated in the air. The modest clearing buzzed with quiet activity. A few of the beastmen had started cooking—not all, just the few who’d grown fond of Cutie. They worked shoulder to shoulder with him, carefully shielding Kaya from the fire, gently brushing her aside if she even looked like she might lift a hand.

It wasn’t that she minded. In fact, for once, it gave her time to sit, breathe... and watch.

Her eyes landed on the sparrow sitting across from her, perched silently on a smooth stone, picking at his food with a serene calm. Kaya’s gaze lingered, laced with a guilt that dug deep and heavy into her chest.

He didn’t know she knew.

For nights now, she’d been pretending to sleep, lying still beneath her blanket just to check. To see. To be sure. And each time, without fail, he came.