Okay, the usual booze scent is around me. That drunkard always brings us out for drinking. I don't feel drunk, so that's a plus side. Wait, what is this uncomfortable feeling?

I gaze down, separating my legs. Vaesio, please tell me I'm mistaken. What made the idiot like this? Surely not this chubby piggy. My stomach aches; he didn't eat either? Ten needs to get his priorities straight. Why does he even kill females? I've never understood that.

With a blank face, my bright, yellow eyes look this soft blue on directly. Her orbs have an annoyed glint for whatever reason.

"Why are you counting down? You even messed up at the end," this hog asks, her voice soft for an animalistic woman. Ten didn't mess up. He just said my name at the end, foolish pig. "Is something wrong?" She questions, suddenly appearing grim. Really grim. I don't see why she'd be greatly worried over Ten... unless he offered our body to her. "Did something happen in Savite? Is it okay down there?"

Savite? Ten always uses that place for an excuse for free garbage. He must be pretending we're a knight or captain or something. This is irritating, but I suppose I can use this. I'm so hungry.

I clear my throat, deciding to speak deeply instead of my ordinarily cynical tone; I don't think it's cynical, but I've been told it is. Apparently, having a shrill sound to a voice that fluctuates between deep and high can come off as such, but I can choose to speak regularly in either pitch. I just need to focus, but the high tone occasionally will break through. It's a negative quirk of mine.

"I'm afraid the situation is dire. I received a telepathic message from a lower ranking officer. He said that the savages have already begun to take over, and it's not long until they reach the townspeople we've evacuated. More men are coming, but I need to get down there. I just... feel weak from the little food I've had the past few days, and I haven't slept either," I tell, hoping that she'll pity me. I need food. I seriously need food. I'm so hungry.

The woman begins to cry. Why would she cry? No one cares about Savite. Maybe she cares for all life? She may be one of those odd folks. No, that's doubtful. Perhaps... I'm actually not sure.

"Sure, I'll get whatever you'd like. Anything. Would you like more wine too?" She's very eager to help. Hmm. She must have some reason, but Ten likely asked or knows, so I can't question. I guess I'll be left to puzzling. But I don't know what to puzzle.

I don't like wine. I used to, but I grew out of it. However, Ten got some, so I need some to blend in. She can't become curious of us. It'd raise problems.

"Please and thank you. And where's a menu?" I question, my stomach growling. How couldn't Ten tell how hungry we are? I was hungry when I arrived, but I timed out within a few minutes of arriving at my dismay. I'm so hungry.

"We haven't one, but I know what we serve. We have venison with garlic, steak cooked with beer, chicken in a ginger glaze-"

"Can I have all three of those? But doubled? Also, do you have bread?" I eagerly question, holding my growling stomach. I'm so hungry. I need to eat.

Her eyes widen, and she combs back her black hair while staring in shock. "We have rolls. I'll send out a basket. B-But are you sure you can eat all of that? Or are you meeting with a party of other knights here?" I crack my neck, sighing. I'm asked about my eating so often.

"It's just for me. I'd like two baskets of rolls if that's alright," I tell, my voice slipping to its shrill tone. Quickly, I clear my throat again to adjust back to the serious voice. I don't think she noticed it.

"Sure. Alright. I'll be right back, so don't stray far." The piggy leaves, smiling the whole way through. I exhale, my forehead gluing to the countertop.

Vaesio, why can't you pity your follower? Damn dark god, why can't I murder without the hassle of running? You gain from my kills, so give me a break. What god of murder wouldn't help out one of the very few followers they have?

No, instead of helping, Vaesio gave me these damnable eyes. These eyes are the marking of a killer, but I'm lucky. First, I've realized that few actually pay attention to eye color, even when it's strange. Magically colored eyes are merely average, though many don't bother to follow a god and receive them. But the main reason I'm safe is since the goddess of light, Gresiva, has a very similar color for her followers. However, it doesn't help my marking.

My nose twitches, and I raise my head to... bread? Piggy looks over me, but she nods and heads back to the kitchen soon after. I hope they finish my actual foodish soon. I can't call whatever will leave that kitchen food.

But I've got some of my foodish already. In front of me, two wicker baskets have a layer of cloth between them and the rolls. The rolls are pale and pasty. They likely didn't cook, or they were in for less than a minute. I'm so hungry. I should just eat them.

My hand grasps onto a squishy, moist bread roll, and I yank both baskets closer to me. Once close, I shove the roll that sits in my palm into my mouth, and I chew through the raw dough until my mouth clears and I can cram in another. In less than a minute, I finish everything, and I'm still so hungry.

I push the baskets away, my fingers clinging to my stomach while I groan. It aches. I'm so hungry. The bread didn't help much. Why do people say it's a filler? I need to eat so many before I'm full.

I sit for a good ten minutes while twiddling my thumbs and thinking of nothing but food before my foodish arrives. It took so long; why is that? I straighten my back, gazing down at the substances on the six plates in front of me. I'm so hungry. My mouth already fills with drool.

Piggy gazes at me for whatever reason. It's annoying. I'm not interested, so go away! Scram! Maybe she'll go when I begin to eat. It's not like I can talk when eating.

I slide a plate of... meat to me, scrutinizing it. I'm assuming the shriveled white things are the garlic? So, this must be the venison. It surely doesn't look like venison, but it's hard to tell due to the charred exterior. By charred, I mean burnt. Extremely burnt. It's about the size of my shoulder, so how did they mess it up so badly? But I'm so hungry; I'm just going to eat.

I gave up with using forks awhile ago, as it took too long, and I chewed off it anyway. My hands latch onto the grease soaked piece of meat, and I bring it up to my face with a smirk. My teeth dig into it, and I began to gorge myself.

I rip meat from the bones, the juices dripping down my arms and elbows. Ten won't be happy about the oily sleeves, but I couldn't care less. My teeth fill with meat, and I flick it out with my tongue while swallowing more of this luckily flavorless meal.

When a plate of clean bones remains, I push it away and grab the next one. Sadly, the chicken has a flavor. Of all things, chicken has flavor. The ginger glaze seems more like the insides of one's anus. Seriously, it tastes and smells exactly like that. But I'm so hungry, and I ignore while gobbling it down.

After around ten minutes of scoffing, I finish and have plates of perfectly cleaned bones around me. I make sure to remove all the meat, and I think I eat cartilage sometimes. But that doesn't matter. My stomach is round and slightly stiff, and I'm all good. Except for one fact. One sad fact. I wasted all my time with eating, and I have a mere two minutes left. I didn't notice as I ate, as it felt too good to eat. The sensation of eating is my favorite.

It's better if I take my leave now so Ten won't be worse off. Yet again, he put me at a terrible spot. No, I'm better than him. Besides, I have greasy arms. I grin, standing from my chair.

Before I leave, I notice that Piggy poured a glass of wine for me when I didn't see. I'm not interested, so I burst through the door of the tavern into the lovely breeze outside. Fresh air fills my lungs, and I breathe deeply. However, the breeze leaves, and I feel as though I'm suffocating in the heat. It's too hot.

The sun beams down on me like the stare of a hawk toward its prey. I don't desire to be prey to the glowing orb, but it's too hot. My flesh aluminates due to its paleness, and I close my eyes from the sun's hue. It's too hot. I don't wish to be out here any longer. I'm finally switching with Ten. Finally. It's too hot.

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One. One. Zero," I murmur, and I feel airy and light. I'm glad to leave, as it's too hot for me to be around.

My eyes peel open, and gods, it feels great to be out. Out of where? I'm not sure. It's as if I don't exist for the time before I'm out, but it's somewhat like rest. I know it happens, and I can sense that time passed, but it's as if I didn't exist when I awaken and can't recall the time in that state.

I swirl around, examining my surroundings. Why the unwor am I in the blazing hot streets of Healiotri? And why, why am I standing directly in front of the tavern? I'm assuming it went well for Zero-One, or he would be further away in the half an hour. I doubt he'd stay so close if we were in a dangerous situation. Alright, all's good. Wait.

I roll up the sleeve to my shirt, gaping in pure horror. What the fuck is this? I slide my greasy finger on my oily wrist, clenching my teeth and shaking in anger. That bastard covered our arms in fucking meat juices. He fed us tavern food. Oh gods, I'm going to hurl. This is disgusting.

I need to shower. I need a fucking bath now. I gag lightly, holding my hand over my mouth while realizing my face has the same substance. The same substance that spreads as my fingers smudge it. This is shit. Why the unwor did he mess us up this badly?

Keeping my vomit down, I walk at a swift pace down the pathways. This sun is unbearable, and it reflects off this horrible coating on my body. Now sweat is mixing in, so I'm completely and utterly disgusted.

Inn, inn, inn. Where's a fucking inn? I need to bathe! Still, throw up colored houses are around. They are close together, and I haven't seen a merchant or sign for a bit. My legs ache, as I walk quickly to hurry and clean off this filth.

After wasting seven minutes of my fucking measly time, I reach a building with a sign I've desired. It's a steel crescent, and a wooden sign of a bed rots beside its corrosion. This place doesn't even seem to have a name, as barely anyone could read the damn thing had they welded one over the moon symbol.

The building is large, having three floors. But it isn't wide, so that may be the reason for its length. An alleyway rests to either side, the shadows creeping up on the building's mud-brick exterior. Houses stand beside these alleys, and they are a similar size to the inn. But they seem to hold many residents each based on the numerous mailboxes; though, it's not like they receive anything they can read... I hate illiteracy.

I stroll up to the oak door, placing my hand on the knob and turning with a bit of a struggle due to my greasiness. Knowing of my pathetic coinage, I hold my head low and sigh while walking into the warmth of the inn's interior.

Thanks for reading part 3! I'd love if you vote and share.

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