CHAPTER 258: CHAPTER-258.

Another time, a sudden gust of wind caught his wings, and he went tumbling in the opposite direction, jerking the rope so violently that Kaya nearly lost her footing and plunged down.

By the end of it, Kaya had to stop and catch her breath. She couldn’t believe it. Normally, with her team, she could run forty to fifty kilometers without breaking much of a sweat—even over rough terrain. On stone paths like these, covering forty kilometers was routine. But today... she glanced at the ground, fists clenching in frustration. Today, she had barely managed fifteen.

The humiliation stung more than the bruise on her stomach.

But Kaya hadn’t expected that the next problem wouldn’t be walking at all—it would be cooking.

She and the sparrow stared at each other in silence for a long moment. Finally, Kaya spoke, her voice flat.

"So... you don’t know how to cook."

The sparrow shook his head.

Kaya’s eyes narrowed. "Alright. You don’t know how to cook. You don’t know how to carry anyone. Then why the hell did you even follow me?" Her voice rose into a sharp shout.

The sparrow flinched, shuffling a step back. "Y-you don’t know how to cook either!" he shot back, his feathers puffing nervously.

"At least I can roast something if I need to!" Kaya snapped, hands on her hips. "What about you? What use are you? What were you even doing sleeping at my house?"

The sparrow hesitated, then muttered, "If I had stayed behind and the vulture found you gone, and me still there... he would have chopped me into pieces."

Kaya stared at him, then let out a slow smile that was anything but kind. "Oh, is that so? Then tell me—do you think he won’t chop you to pieces right now?"

The sparrow froze. After a long pause, he nodded with an oddly serious look. "Yeah. There’s a very high chance he still would."

Kaya’s palm smacked her forehead. She couldn’t believe this. After eating so many delicious meals back home, now she was stuck with... this. Cooking with her own hands.

And of course, problems lined up one after another. She hadn’t brought any bowls or cooking tools. Roasting meat was out of the question—it would lure every predator within a mile. And water? They barely had enough to drink, let alone wash and boil anything.

It was hopeless.

Kaya chewed on a few pieces of tough jerky, washing them down with the barest sip of water. It felt like chewing stone. When she finished, she slumped back against the nearest tree. The trunk was so thin it couldn’t even support her properly, so she ended up stretched out on the dirt. She crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and tried to will herself into rest.

Her stomach was already sore from the rope burn, but the hunger made it worse—gnawing, sharp, relentless. She forced her breathing to steady, keeping one ear on the wind and the other on the silence of the mountain.

And then—silence turned into absence.

Her eyes snapped open. The sparrow was gone.

Kaya coughed a bitter laugh. "That idiot. I knew he wouldn’t stay put."

But before she could curse him further, the soft rustle of wings returned. She kept her eyes shut until she heard his voice.

"I’m here for you."

Kaya opened her eyes, and there he was, waddling forward with something clutched in his wings—a leaf wrapped tightly around another. He presented it like a sacred treasure.

Kaya frowned. "What’s that supposed to be?"

"Food," the sparrow announced proudly.

Suspicion already curling in her chest, Kaya snatched it from him and unwrapped the bundle. Her face twisted as she stared at what lay inside.

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then, without hesitation, she dragged her leg and kicked him square in the stomach.

The sparrow squawked, feathers flying.

Kaya let go, and the leaf packet slipped from her hand, tumbling to the ground.

The bundle burst open—fat, white grubs squirmed out, wriggling in all directions, joined by caterpillars and something that looked far too much like a severed earthworm. And they were all very much alive.

Kaya’s stomach twisted. The creatures scattered, crawling across the dirt.

The sparrow, who had slammed to the ground from her kick, groaned loudly. "Ugh! My ribs..." He rubbed his waist with pitiful dramatics.

Kaya’s shadow loomed over him. She pointed at the mess. "What... is this?" Her voice was low, dangerous.

The sparrow followed her finger, then lit up as if she had pointed to treasure. "My food!" he cried, scrambling forward on all fours to rescue the writhing bugs.

Kaya recoiled, face scrunching in pure disgust. For a long moment, she simply stared, her fists clenching and unclenching.

Finally, she exhaled hard through her nose and turned away. He’s a sparrow, she reminded herself grimly. Sparrows eat... things. Things that crawl. Things that make me want to vomit.

After a long battle with her temper, she forced herself back to the tree, dropped down, and shut her eyes. Because if she stayed awake and kept watching him chew on worms like a delicacy, she was certain she’d murder him in his sleep.

The sparrow was happily crouched, plucking his crawling "treasures" from the ground. He glanced sideways and saw Kaya had already leaned back against the trunk, eyes shut.

A sly smile spread across his face. Quietly, he skipped a few steps away and settled under another tree. From behind his feathers he pulled out a large bundle, wrapped carefully in layers of leaf. With eager hands, he unwrapped it.

This time, no writhing bugs spilled out. Instead, a small feast revealed itself—bright fruits gleaming in the moonlight, and even slices of roasted meat, a little dry but still rich with scent. His eyes sparkled. He picked up a piece, ready to sink his teeth into it.

But then... the air shifted.

The light dimmed, though the moon still hung overhead. A heavy shadow swallowed the ground around him. The sparrow froze, a cold shiver shooting up his back. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he lifted his head.

And there she was.