When Rick woke, it was to the emptiness of a dark room. He was alone. With a sigh, he fumbled his way around, looking for his clothes. And then he fumbled his way around until he found the door.

It was still dark outside, but the sky only had the first hints of purple dawn.

“Sir?”

Rick nearly screamed, jumping and turning around to look at the source of the squeaky voice. Who needs coffee when you could just jumpstart your adrenaline with a heart-attack? The source of the voice had been a short maiden, barely over a meter tall, solid black eyes devoid of pupils, antennae twitching wildly in the air. She was a Polita.

“Yeah?” He tried to put up a neutral smile.

The maiden stepped forward, raising a wooden mug. “Healer Spikes said that you should be given medicine as soon as you woke up.”

He eyed the honeyed fluid, all too aware of how it was made. “... thanks…” Taking the mug, he eyed it warily. “Hey, where…?” As soon as he raised his gaze in search of the bug maiden, she’d left. “Drats.”

With a resigned sigh, he took a sip. Was it bad that it tasted good? He tried not to think about the production method. “This feels like when I found out how packaged meat is made.” He mumbled, walking and trying to put his mind in order.

The tribe wasn’t asleep, but it wasn’t awake either. Maidens were mulling about, but the green-skins were the ones looking like they were on their way to take a long nap. Most didn’t pay him any mind, and only a few seemed to recognize him out of those that did.

It was odd, feeling like something should happen. Some part of him imagined there would be more of a reaction, a parting of the crowd, maybe a wave. But maybe this was better.

He had enough on his plate.

Following the bond in Dia’s direction, he found the maiden surrounded by a dozen Politas. The pink-haired healer was kneeling in front of a bowl of water. Slowly, she dipped her thumb and forefingers into opposite ends of the liquid.

“You start slowly.” She intoned, a trickle of green light reaching out. “You need to keep it submerged. Humans and most maidens are made of water, it’s important to move your energy through water without causing damage.”

Most?

“You need to make the ends meet without disturbing the water. If you cause ripples or splashes, you need to start over.” The captive audience watched. A thread of green light inched its way from her right hand and into the left. “For those of you who do this, the next step would be…” Slowly, she pulled her fingers back, disconnecting the light and leaving the glowing thread inside the bowl, where it dispersed. “Remember, you need to get it right three times in a row to move to the next step.”

Nods shared all around.

Dia handed over the bowl to the closest Polita and stood up. She saw Rick, and gave a little smile as she approached.

“You’re not wearing your cute armor,” he said as she hugged him.

“That’s for the Orcs. My little helpers would run away if they saw me in it.” She leaned closer, kissing his nose. “You should rest more.”

“Are those the healer’s orders?”

“Would you follow them if they are?”

He chuckled, taking her arm as they walked. “I might. I definitely see a nap soon with your name on it.”

She preened, hugging his arm closer. “Would you like an update of the situation or should we delay work related conversation until I’ve put my armor on?”

A little shrug. “Want to walk? Show off a little?”

Preening, Dia smiled from ear to ear and led the way towards the edge of the camp. “We’re almost ready to depart. The prep-work has been going smoothly.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Rick pointed over his shoulder at the tribe. “When do we plan to take the huts down?”

“The wood will be chopped and left behind. It’d be easier to make the huts from scratch.” The Rapha nodded mostly to herself. “Most of the work has gone towards securing a corridor.”

She stopped at the edge of the camp’s southern edge and gestured ahead. The maiden was oozing enthusiasm, though that left Rick unsure what he was looking at other than a bunch of chopped trees and an expanse of plains further out.

“A… safety corridor?”

“Exactly!” Dia nodded. “Typically, the tribe would’ve just moved out and left behind anything that might slow them down. But that only worked when the tribe was mostly Orcs.”

He nodded a little. “But we’ll be moving more slowly than they’re used to.”

“Thus why we need to copy the kingdom’s evacuation protocols.” She intoned with a sagely nod. “The areas are being swept for ferals.”

“But…” Rick frowned a little, trying to imagine the situation. “The ferals wouldn’t pose a threat to the tribe, not unless it’s some freak situation where they stampede.”

“They don’t need to pose a threat to the tribe. They only need to be dangerous to a human.” Dia’s tone hardened. “All the feral would need to do is hide when the tribe approaches and come out when it’s least convenient for us. More so if they’re desperate or starving.”

There was a mark of warning, but mixed with… purpose? “I would’ve only thought to put everyone in combat stations. You know your stuff.”

Dia swelled with a dazzling smile. “I had top marks.”

“For a second there, I was worried that you were only cute.” His hand tugged at her hip, and the maiden obliged, leaning into his shoulder. “So you learnt military safety doctrine, and superpowered healing, anything else in that tool-belt of yours?”

“Animal husbandry?” she muttered. “Since I’d volunteered to go to a small village, I wasn’t sure if it’d be useful.”

“You people have animals other than boars and birds?” Rick chuckled.

“Cows, chicken, deer, horses, goats…” she listed off, using her free hand to count. “Nobles are usually the only ones with the money to run shelters and steadings.”

“Special needs?”

“Mostly protection from thieves and ferals.” Walking next to him, she nudged him in a different direction. “When the instructor told us the cow was worth its weight in elemental stones, half the girls didn’t even dare step close to the pen.”

“And here I am, the dude that comes from cheese country.”

“Cheese?” Dia blinked a moment. “Isn’t it made with soybeans and oils?”

Rick gagged a little. “No, that’s… yeah, no, no, that’s just wrong. Cheese comes from milk.”

“Was your country’s cheese good?”

“More like they make it in absurd amounts.” He paused a moment, rubbing his chin. “The average citizen ate about… thirty kilos of cheese a year?”

Dia nodded along, then slowed.

Then stopped.

Her eyes were fixed on him.

“Thirty kilos. A year.” She declared. “And… how much milk do you need to make milk cheese?”

“Huh.” Rick rubbed at his chin. “Ten liters?”

Dia blinked slowly. “... that would require one cow for every three humans.” Her gaze became distant, eyes opening like saucers. “That… so many cows…”

“Yeah, about a fourth of the country’s territory is used either for the cows to roam, or to grow the food that feeds the cows.”

His words seemed to fall into deaf ears. The maiden was looking off into the distance with unfocused eyes. Her steps remained slow, following along and making vague affirmative sounds.

When she regained her focus, she looked at him with a frown. With a tug of her hand, she halted them both, moving to place her hands on his arm. They glowed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to check something.” Her hands reached up, grasping his chin and turning his head this way and that. Her frown deepened. “This is bad. This explains so much. I should’ve known sooner.”

“What?” He took a step back.

“At least a third of you is cheese.” She declared with a grave nod. “That's why you’re so pale and don’t like the heat.”

Rick slapped her hand away, the maiden breaking into a fit of giggles. “Hush, you.”

“I should’ve brought cheese-balls to train my healing on.” She continued.

“Hey!” He reached out to grab her.

“No wonder Eva wants a bite!” She slipped away with a grin, staying just a step ahead as he tried to catch her. The healer let out a sharp laugh and kept pace, always a step ahead.

And right as he’d been about to run, she stopped.

They toppled over, Dia holding on to his chest and laughing louder still as they rolled. Someway, somehow, the maiden angled them both so that the roll would end with him on top. Pink hair sprawled in a halo around her head, violet eyes glistening.

“My cheesy hero.”

“I’ll shut you up.” He leaned closer.

Her breath caught. “Make me.”

So he did.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him back.

There was a holler. They both snapped at the sound, realizing at the same time that they were well within sight of the tribe and its many maidens. Maidens that were waking up and staring.

Dia’s grip didn’t quite give away, though. “I hope you could shut me up some more tonight.” She whispered into his ear.

And then it clicked.

“You sent Monica away with Eva, and Kiara…”

“Is on sentry duty.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “I’ll have you all to myself.”

Pulling himself up with his added passenger, he made a gesture towards the village. “Let’s get today’s stuff done, then. Wouldn’t want to keep the greedy dragoness waiting.”

Dia dimpled. “You will obey, fleshy human,” she whispered, then blushed fiercely, a darker shade of red than her hair. With her being bridal-carried, the maiden had every opportunity to bury her face into his chest.

They had a nice non-soup breakfast. Then Dia helped him wash up, and he helped her put on the very clunky set of armor. And by the time they were ready to get to work, the tribe had fully awoken and people were milling about their day.

There was a surprising lack of Urtha in the “main hall” of the tribe.

There wasn’t, however, a lack of fresh faces.

Rick vaguely recognized the two maidens from the previous night, though a lot of the event was a hazy memory. The duo were kneeling, held in place by the Orc guards and heavy chains.

The first of the two was a Hound, black canine ears atop her head, sharp eyes, and short dark hair. The other was a Doggirl, the weaker form, with brown hair and a smaller frame. Both had seen better days, neither were fighting against their restraints or captors.

When Rick stepped into view, with Dia at his side, both of the newcomers zeroed in on him. There was a dawning realization in their gazes. “Yes, I broke the feral curse from you two,” he said. “You’ll understand my precaution, so you’ll have to forgive my rudeness.” He took his seat, adding a bit of drama to the gesture. “What are your names?”

The two maidens shared a glance, dubious at first, then bowing. “Our names will be whatever-”

“No.” Rick interrupted. “You are not property. You are prisoners, yes, but not property. What are your names?”

The Hound spoke first. “I am Eli.”

The other one followed her lead. “My name is Vanessa.”

“Eli, Vanessa, great.” With a nod, Rick straightened out.

Dia stepped forward. “You are not the first, nor the last. Other maidens remain feral and will be awakened. We will ask them the same questions. Whether or not we look at you favorably will depend on how honest you are in your responses.” Slowly, she crossed her arms. “Tell us, what is the last thing you remember regarding Sinco’s circumstances and situation?”

The two canines eyed Dia, and then Rick. “May we ask who you work for… sir?”

“I work for myself, but you could say I have the trust of very important people further north.” A half-truth, he’d been the Earl’s guest, and he could trust the man would read anything he sent. But the noble was a neutral party ‌at best, and a potential enemy at worst. “And, to my understanding, there are many things that have been happening that need to reach important ears.”

He glared, leaning forward and meeting their gazes. Trying to read them through the fresh bond was mostly futile. He had better hopes at knowing what they felt through their expressions. Both maidens were stuck in some point between doubt, panic, eagerness, and hope.

The Hound broke the silence, lowering her head until it touched the ground. “I am a Hunter. My duty is to protect the citizens from the feral threat. It is all I have known, and all I have done.” She inhaled sharply, gritting her teeth. “My last memory was of being given a report by the Baron’s knights. It stated a weakened predatorial feral had been spotted. We gathered a force to get rid of it. What we found was a Ghoul and her monsters.”

“It was an ambush.” The other blurted out. “They knew we were coming, the Baron-”

“Careful.” Dia raised her hand sharply, eyes intense. “It is dangerous to speak of crimes without proof, particularly of a noble. Do you have any to provide?”

“The Ghoul.” Eli spoke in a whisper, not moving an inch. “The only proof we have is her scent. It reeked of the Baron’s perfumes.”

“For all we know, that’s proof she successfully snuck into the place, or that she ate someone else who had been there.” Rick shook his head. “Tell us of Sinco’s circumstances.”

“But-” The Doggirl’s words were cut short when she noticed Eli glaring her way.

The Hound answered. “The ferals destroyed the farms at the start. Going out at night is a death-sentence, and even during the day the ferals will attack any that venture too far from the walls.”

“What’s the food situation?”

“Most of our food comes through fishing. The feral wave didn’t affect the sea. Last we checked the soil within the city had yet to be used for emergency farming.”

“Security?”

“Strained, everyday someone is lost. Ferals have become bold enough to climb the walls at night.”

Rick noted Dia becoming tense. “Something the matter?”

“Such drastic behavior, for ferals, is… rare.”

“Nothing is normal about them.” Eli nodded. “Even the loneliest of Mousegirls is as aggressive as a wrathful Dragoness. Strangest of all is that they rarely attack one another if there are alternatives available.”

That caught his attention. “That’s not normal either.”

“Nothing about this wave or the things that happened after are.” The Doggirl declared with an eager nod. “And the Baron-”

“Choose your next words very carefully.” Dia glared.

“Vi, don’t.” Eli shook her head slowly, rising from the ground, then sighing. “Forgive my friend. Events have been straining. We have lost much to this tragedy.”

“What was it she was trying to say?” Rick spoke slowly. “If you have doubts or lack of proof, then word is as if it were a rumor that you’ve heard rather than a fact.”

The Rapha glanced at him warily, but nodded.

Eli glanced at her companion, then at Rick. “We… had heard the Baron’s behavior previous to the feral wave had been erratic.” She waited for a heartbeat, glancing at Dia again, then at Rick. “There were rumors that he’d come to blows with the local head of the Hunters.”

“Could you try guessing why such a rumor would spread?”

“I couldn’t possibly fathom a reason.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter right now.” Rick rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Before I send you off, I need detailed physical descriptions of companions that were with you the day of the attack. Hopefully we can find them amongst the boxed ferals.”

The duo nodded. “Are… are there any humans…?”

“The Ghoul killed many humans and took many more. If your human isn’t amongst those currently present in the tribe, then there’s not much more we can do.”

They nodded, ears drooping down as they provided descriptions of over a dozen maidens, and four humans. Rick watched them go, and waited. Once the door closed, Yasir emerged from the back of the hut.

“Got thoughts to share?”

“Their words matched most of what I knew. Which doesn’t mean there might not be half-truths or that they are keeping some information from us.” Yasir stroked his beard in consideration. “What… are your intentions for the city?”

“For now, my goal is to get as much information as I can get my hands on.” Rick avoided the question. “We’ll consider the options from there.”

“And the ferals?” Dia asked. “Taking them with us as they are now would slow us down and represent a great danger if something goes wrong.”

“I have a few ideas in mind.” He rubbed at his chin in thought, glancing at Yasir. “How many maidens would you be able to bond or awaken from the feral state in a single day?”

The man hesitated. “I…” Slowly, he stroked his beard. “I have only ever formed up to six bonds.”

“And if you didn’t have that limit?”

“I could maybe form a dozen in a day? Under normal circumstances, I mean.” He glanced at Dia for a moment. “But we only have a handful of spare collars as is.”

Rick took a moment to consider, looking at Dia, then at Yasir. “At that rate, we’re going to need over a week to process them all. We’re going to have to recruit help from the other humans in the tribe.”

Yasir nodded, albeit with a grimace. “About the collars… you wouldn’t be suggesting the tribe enter a rotation… right?”

Dia stepped up. “A rotation is when several maidens share the same collar. Since the curse takes a week to fully grab hold, in extreme cases a group of maidens can swap.” Her gaze darkened. “Doing so for a prolonged amount of time is not advisable. Morale aside, being in a state of continuously decaying sanity is not something just any could withstand unscratched.”

The comment made him think of Kiara, and how the Succubus would often remove her collar to pretend to be a human. A habit she’d used well before meeting him, before being able to do so without risking her mental state.

“There are a couple ideas about that, but I think we’ll manage.” But there was something else bothering him. “What’s the limit on how many bonds a human can form?”

Dia spoke up. “It depends on the lineage. The average human can only form up to five, while nobility has been able to sustain several dozen bonds at the same time.”

“Think it’s because of the blood purity they keep spouting?”

“Most likely.” She answered with a simple nod.

That meant he should be able to match that number. “Let’s get things rolling. If the healer units have nothing better to do, I need them to start a survey.”

“Survey of… what?”

“Who is bonded to who, what human has how many bonds, and with what maiden. Most important is that we need to know what members of the tribe are unhappy with their current partners, and what members of the non-tribe are slaves.” There were several things that needed to change, but it was best to make sure they happened in a controlled way. He turned to Yasir. “That learning thing. What were your plans?”

“My thoughts were to start things with a simple celebration before departing, use the chance to consume whatever we won’t take on the road,” he said. “From there, we could use the music to help morale during the travel. What would your thoughts be regarding drums?”

Rick perked up. “Drums?”

“Forgive my assumptions, but I’ve noticed you sometimes tap rhythms when in thought.”

Huh. He did? “Maybe an old habit from the band…” He quickly shook his head. “I think those would work. But I don’t know how drums are made.”

Yasir bowed. “My wife knows a thing or two, and I’m sure the tribe will welcome some minor side-projects.”

“That seems good. The bonding is still my priority.”

“We will keep it in mind.”

With a slight nod, the bearded merchant turned to leave, and Dia moved closer to Rick, staring at him. “You plan to bond all those maidens?” she whispered.

“Does my healer say it’s a bad idea?”

“I am not sure. Bonds have never put a strain on either partner. But bonds with you are different.” She grabbed his hand. “My concern is whether they can be broken safely.”

“We’ll have to do some tests when we can.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Kiara will be pissed. I’m mostly sure she wanted a big-ass orgy to do the bonding thing.”

“I am sure her big fat ass will soften the blow.”

Rick shot her a look.

Dia rolled her eyes. “I acknowledge she isn’t the worst thing to happen to the world. It doesn’t mean I have to like her.”

This time, he quirked a brow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said.

The brow rose further.

“Now you’re just messing with me.” She pouted.

“Perhaps.” He chuckled. “What’s the next item on the list?”

“Food, farming, and treatment of the farmers.”

His shoulders slumped. That was not going to be fun.

“Let’s check the fields and talk to the ones in charge of that…”

“Careful not to get a sunburn, cheese lord.”

She giggled. He glared.