Chapter 736: How Did You Do It?
Charlotte sat near the fire pit with a skewered piece of deer meat in hand, devouring it with a level of focus that made it seem as though the meat itself had personally wronged her and she had chosen to punish it by enjoying every bite.
The firelight flickered warmly across the hollow chamber, licking over the rough stone walls and casting steady shadows over the supplies arranged near the colder corner. The deer carcass had already been broken down and portioned more properly than Charlotte had managed on her own, and several strips of meat now rested near the smoke pit, slowly taking in heat and smoke while Liam and Charlotte ate from the first pieces he had finished preparing.
Charlotte chewed slowly this time, her golden eyes narrowing in clear satisfaction as she savored the taste. She had eaten deer meat before, plenty of times during training, mock survival drills, and now this ridiculous assessment, but there was a difference between eating something just because her body needed food and eating something that had actually been treated with care.
The meat in her hand was still rough compared to proper academy meals, but it had texture, it had smokiness, and most importantly, it did not taste like a burnt mistake she had forced herself to swallow out of survival. After another bite, she finally turned toward Liam, who sat across from her near the chamber wall with his torn sleeveless tank top back on and a skewer of his own in hand.
"You know," Charlotte said after swallowing, her tone carrying that same amused satisfaction she always seemed to wrap around everything, "I hate to admit this because it’ll make you look even more useful than you already are, but you did a really good job with this deer meat."
Liam, who had been chewing quietly, only glanced at her without much reaction. His posture was still more careful than usual, his body leaning slightly against the stone wall as if he had no intention of pretending he was completely fine.
He had enough pride not to complain, but not enough stupidity to act as though his ribs were fully healed. One arm rested over his raised knee, his skewer held loosely between his fingers, while his other hand remained near his side in a relaxed but cautious position. He said nothing to Charlotte’s praise, which made her smile widen faintly.
"I’m serious," she continued, lifting the meat slightly as if presenting evidence.
"I never even thought about draining the blood from the deer properly. Usually, I just catch whatever I can, burn the meat over a fire, and eat it before it gets too disgusting. But with how you do it, it almost feels like actual cared-for meat. Not noble banquet food or anything, obviously, but something someone actually meant to prepare instead of something dragged out of the woods and tortured over flames."
Liam finally swallowed and looked down at the meat in his hand. "It’s just basic handling."
"Basic handling?" Charlotte repeated, her brows lifting. "Bae, if this is basic handling, then everything I’ve been eating out here deserves an apology from my stomach."
Liam said nothing again, and Charlotte took another bite, clearly unbothered by his silence. For a moment, she focused on the meat again, chewing with obvious appreciation before leaning slightly forward, her eyes glittering with renewed curiosity.
"So tell me something," she said. "Do you actually have a knack for cooking, or is this survival trick the limit? Because if you can actually cook too, I might as well forget academy food entirely and start eating whatever you make instead."
"I can’t cook," Liam answered simply.
Charlotte’s face immediately fell with exaggerated disappointment. "You can’t?"
"No," Liam said, taking another bite. "What I did with the deer is just something my grandfather taught me."
That answer was partly true.
Grandpa Billy had taught him how to care for caught game. Liam remembered being younger and watching the old man work with practiced patience, explaining that rushing with meat in the wild was how people got sick, wasted food, or attracted things they did not want near them.
Draining, cleaning, cutting, smoking, and storing were all things Liam had learned from those early years, long before the academy, long before wars, and long before any of the complicated things that now followed his every step. That part of his answer was honest.
But it was also partly a lie.
Liam could cook.
Not because he had spent much time doing it himself, but because Marcus had known how to cook. Marcus had learned from Billy as well, not just survival preparation, but actual cooking. The memories Aesmirius had given Liam carried those lessons with them, scattered among far heavier and darker things.
Liam had seen Marcus standing over simple fires, learning how to season meat when there were spices available, how to make poor ingredients taste decent, how to prepare meals for Serah, and later, how to make food stretch without ruining it. Those memories were not Liam’s experiences exactly, but they were vivid enough to be useful.
Still, Liam had no intention of explaining that to Charlotte.
Explaining that he knew how to cook because he had inherited memories of his father being taught by the same man who had raised him would invite far too many questions, and Charlotte already had a talent for turning the smallest opening into a whole conversation he did not want to have.
More importantly, Liam believed she was entirely serious when she said she might abandon academy food for his. She had said it teasingly, but Charlotte’s teasing often carried very real intent beneath the playful tone, and Liam had no desire to become her personal cook once they returned from the assessment.
So he lied.
Charlotte stared at him for a few seconds, clearly disappointed but not devastated. Then she sighed and took another bite from her skewer. "That’s unfortunate," she said after chewing. "Still, I guess it’s a win for me either way. Even if you can’t cook properly, you can at least make me eat deer meat that doesn’t taste like punishment. That’s more than I can do for myself out here."
Liam felt a small measure of relief that she had accepted it so easily. He kept his face neutral, however, and simply continued eating. The meat was not perfect, but it was enough. He needed food, and his body needed anything it could use to recover.
The healing potion Charlotte had used on him had done a great deal, but his body had still been through too much. Every bit of nourishment mattered now, especially with the assessment not yet finished.
For a while, neither of them said much.
The chamber settled into a quieter rhythm. The fire crackled in the pit, the smoke drifted toward the crevice entrance, and the smell of prepared meat slowly replaced the stale scent of stone and old blood.
Charlotte ate with shameless enjoyment, occasionally humming when a bite pleased her more than expected, while Liam ate steadily and without much expression. Outside, night pressed against the outcrop, though the chamber itself felt strangely removed from the hostile realm beyond it. Not safe exactly, but safe enough for the moment.
Eventually, Charlotte spoke again while still eating. "So," she said, dragging the word out slightly as her eyes shifted toward him, "are you going to tell me how you actually defeated the Berserker, or am I supposed to keep using my imagination?"
Liam looked at her calmly.
Charlotte gestured with her skewer. "I mean, I found the destroyed clearing. I saw the damage. I saw you half-dead not too far away from it. What I didn’t see was a corpse. No body, no pieces, no core, no dramatic demon remains for me to poke with a stick.
At first, I thought maybe the corpse was thrown somewhere else by the explosion, but the more I looked around, the less that made sense. So instead of me sitting here trying to wrap my pretty little head around it, you can just tell me directly."
Liam finished chewing before answering.
"I erased it," he said simply.
