Chapter 501: Chapter 503: Outsiders He really couldn’t shake these people off. After the caravan stopped for the evening at the foot of some hills, Damon sat under a tree with a raven and a squirrel sleeping lazily on his head. They had been out scouting from the air all day. This was his normal group — except, for whatever reason, the group of eccentrics decided they wanted to sit with him. "Why do I always attract the odd ones..." Lena handed him a bowl of watered-down soup. Damon glanced at it... then shook his head. "I’ll pass on that." She shook her head. "Ah ah... but you have to eat. I know it looks bad... I mean, it’s worse than it looks — I mean it’s better than it looks..." He raised an eyebrow. "You just said it was horrible... you shouldn’t eat that either." Ilukras nodded, holding his chin. "He’s right... that looks like dog shit. Even dogs wouldn’t eat that." Twilight sneered. "I suppose they didn’t teach you manners in the monastery." Damon took the bowl — carefully rationed supplies — and threw it away. Lena yelled. "No! Why did you do that? Food rations are limited!" Unnoticed Singularity brushed aside his shifting-colored hair. "I think... we’ll power through this one..." Damon shot him a deadpan look. "You... and who is ’we’?" He reached into his shadow storage and pulled out a large grill. Then, spices. Meat. The works. Dred leaned next to Aleph. "See? I told you sticking to this guy was a good idea." Damon wasn’t stingy. He had a lot of meat — enough to share. The smell spread across the caravan... and of course, it didn’t attract monsters. It attracted something worse. Hungry children. Damon smiled, taking a bite of his meat without a care in the world. He even set up a table with chairs. It was a nice feeling — the last time he’d set this table had been when he was bat-shit insane and talking to himself. He noticed Saint and Lena giving the pitiful children sad looks — eyes silently asking him to share. Damon had grown up a street child. You’d think he’d pity hungry kids. But apparently, street children were like jackals — always competing with each other. In his eyes, they weren’t pitiful. They were competition. Lena gave him a sad look. Damon didn’t blink. He sympathized with them, really... he did. He sighed. But before he could say anything... one of them stood up — took the whole roasted slab of meat on the table — and walked straight toward the growing group of children. And dropped it in front of them. "Eat." Damon was surprised. Because the person who did it wasn’t who he expected. If it had been Saint, he’d understand. But it wasn’t. It was the alleged orphan-hater — Aleph Cantor. Damon watched as the children eagerly ripped into the meat — grease on their hands, sauce smeared across their faces. Most of them rushed to share it with their younger siblings. Some even offered it to the adults. The adults watched with gentle smiles... but politely refused. Damon saw no malice in the scene. There was a genuine... air of kindness. Unusual, he thought. The world of Aetherus was usually more malicious. He should know. Caravans were full of horrible people. He paused... thinking of Carmen Vale. He couldn’t help but mutter. "If you look for the worst in people... that’s all you’ll ever see. Kindness is reciprocal..." And... for a moment... a deep darkness inside him washed away. Malice was everywhere... but that didn’t mean kindness couldn’t exist. Was this not a beautiful sight? Perhaps this was the beauty Valarie Sunwarden wanted to see. Even in gloom... in despair... in fear... people could still be kind. In the end, these children weren’t the disillusioned street rats of Valerion. They weren’t the capriciously cruel children from his village — the ones who’d turned on him because the adults said so. He glanced at the androgynous elf. "I thought you hated orphans." Aleph glanced back coldly. "I hate starving children more... I can’t eradicate orphans. But I can eradicate the wars that create so many." He muttered to himself, "Besides, those aren’t all orphans; some of them have living parents." His words struck something in Damon’s heart. Maybe it was the conviction in his eyes. Dred sneered. "Son of a bitch is farming aura on us... I was almost moved..." And like that — they broke into another argument. Damon laughed lightly. This... almost reminded me of my party... Still, he glanced at their leader. "You guys half-ass everything, don’t you? If you’re going to give them meat... might as well give them a full belly." Damon reached into his shadow space — and pulled out more meat. A lot more. He raised the cup in his hand. "Tonight we feast. Tomorrow we feast. As long as I’m here... you will never know empty stomachs." For a moment — silence. Then... cheers. Meat roasted. Ale flowed — some merchant even gave up his personal stock of ale, brightening the mood. He wasn’t the only one; those hoarding or hiding food bought it out and shared it. That act made Damon pause. So that’s the effect of aura farming... and the charisma stat... "I can influence people... with my actions..." He had to admit — it was amazing. Normally, he manipulated people by giving them no choice — by boxing them into situations where they had to do things his way. Like with the Knights of the Deep when they faced Rashi Ignath. Or how he’d dragged his party into three death zones. By giving them no other alternative. But this... This was different. These people followed because they wanted to. Why else would they share their food... when they had so little? Later that night, Damon sat under a tree alone... until Unnoticed Singularity appeared. Damon glanced at him. "The way you talk... the way you act... Who are you, really? And mind you — I’ll know if you’re lying." Unnoticed Singularity smiled — his eyes drifting to the playing children. "This world is... weird. Obsessive with war. Sure, war is constant in other worlds... but not like this one." He smiled at Damon. "You’re asking a question you already know the answer to. It’s as you suspected. We’re just like you..." Then, he switched languages. It was a tongue Damon had never heard before — yet understood perfectly, thanks to his [Soul Tongue] skill. "We’re the same. We’re outsiders... from another world." And just like that... Damon felt his heart drop. Outsiders.