Chapter 74: Feeding Time

Ren sprinted down the corridor, the clay pot held out in front of her like a bomb that was about to detonate. The smell of the gumbo—spicy, rich, and meaty—wafted through the halls, acting like a pied piper’s tune.

Behind her, a small army of snake beastmen poked their heads out of alcoves, flicking their tongues at the divine scent. They followed at a distance, their curiosity warring with their survival instincts.

Syris met her at the intersection leading to the dungeon. He had found a fresh black robe to cover his indecency, though it was tied loosely, leaving his chest bare.

He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he looked at the clay pot in her hands.

“That smells…” Syris’s amethyst eyes widened, dilating with hunger. “really good.”

“It’s the gumbo,” Ren panted, her face slick with sweat. “Move! We’re losing time!”

They descended into the damp, dark belly of the palace. The air grew colder, and the smell of rot replaced the smell of incense. The crowd of curious snakes stopped at the top of the stairs, refusing to go a step further.

Ren, Syris, and Viper stood inside the heavy iron bars of the main cell. Inside, the massive white mound of Kael rose and fell with heavy, rattling breaths.

Ding!

[System Alert: The Wake-Up Call] [Time remaining: 2 Minutes 30 Seconds.] [Status: Cutting it closer than a toupee in a windstorm.]

Ren set the pot down on a clean rock, blowing on her burned fingers. “Okay. We’re here. The soup is ready. Now we just have to…”

She froze. A horrible realization dawned on her.

“How the hell am I supposed to feed him?” Ren whispered.

Syris and Viper looked at her, then at the tiger.

“What is the issue?” Syris asked.

“He’s a feral tiger!” Ren gestured frantically at Kael. “I can’t just feed him with a spoon and say, ’Here comes the airplane!’”

Ding!

[Time remaining: 2 Minutes.]

“We need a plan,” Viper hissed. “I have one.”

Ren looked at him, hopeful.

“We throw the food on the floor,” Viper suggested with total confidence. “He eats it off the stones. Like a proper beast.”

Ren’s face contorted into a grimace of pure hygiene-induced pain. She looked at the filthy, moss-covered dungeon floor and felt her soul wither.

“No,” Syris cut in smoothly. “He is a King. He does not eat off the floor like a common swamp-rat.”

“You are right, My King,” Viper immediately corrected himself, nodding solemnly. “A foolish idea. I am ashamed I even thought of it!”

“We will do it the warrior’s way,” Syris proposed, crossing his arms. “Viper and I will pin him down. I will sit on his chest to crush the air out of his lungs. When he gasps for breath, you pour the soup down his throat.”

Ren stared at them, her mouth slightly agape. Her eyes were wide, darting between the two men as if trying to calculate the sheer density of their combined stupidity.

“Or,” Viper added, eager to be helpful, “if he struggles, we could chew the meat for him first. Then we spit it into his mouth. Like a mother bird feeding a chick.”

Syris looked at Viper with disgust. “That is revolting, Viper.”

Ren buried her face in her hands. She peeked through her fingers, looking like she wanted to scream but didn’t have the energy.

Ding!

[Time remaining: 1 Minute 30 Seconds.] [Subject ’Kael’ is growling in his sleep.]

Ren paced back and forth, her puffer coat rustling. ’Think, Ren, think. He’s feral. He’s aggressive. But he’s still a cat.’

She stopped. A memory flashed in her mind.

“The ears,” Ren whispered.

“What?” Syris frowned.

“I have a plan,” Ren announced, her eyes snapping open. “It’s crazy. It’s risky. And you are going to hate it.”

Ding!

[Time remaining: 30 Seconds.]

“When he wakes up, you grab him,” Ren ordered, pointing at the two snake men. “But you don’t hold him down. You scratch him.”

Syris stared at her. “What?”

“Behind the ears!” Ren demonstrated on herself. “You have to be gentle. Not too rough, but not too soft either. There’s a sweet spot. If you scratch him there, he paralyzes! While he’s distracted by the scritches, I’ll feed him the soup!”

“I am a King,” Syris said, his voice dripping with disdain. “I do not give ’gentle scritches’ to a mangy mammal.”

Ren stepped closer to him. She clasped her hands together under her chin. She looked up at him through her lashes, widening her eyes as big as they could go. Her lip wobbled just a fraction.

“Please, Syris?” she begged softly, her voice sweet and desperate. “Just for me? Please?”

Syris looked down at her. The Snake King froze. He looked at the big, watery eyes, the pouting lip, the messy hair.

A faint pink flush crept up his neck and settled on his cheeks. He cleared his throat loudly and looked away, unable to maintain eye contact.

“Fine,” he muttered, crossing his arms to hide his capitulation. “But only for a little while. And we never speak of this.”

“Deal!” Ren beamed.

ROAAAAAR!

Kael’s eyes snapped open. They were blood-red.

He exploded from the floor, a massive blur of white fur and claws, launching himself at them.

“NOW!” Ren yelled.

Syris and Viper moved.

Kael lunged at Syris, jaws snapping.

Syris grunted, dodging a bite that would have taken his head off. He tackled the tiger’s left side, jamming his fingers into the thick fur behind Kael’s left ear.

Viper dove for the right side, wrapping his tail around a pillar for leverage and digging his claws into the base of Kael’s right ear.

“Gentle! But firm!” Ren commanded, rushing in with the pot and the small bowl.

Kael, who was mid-roar, suddenly froze. His eyes crossed. His back leg started thumping uncontrollably against the stone floor. Thump-thump-thump-thump

.

“Mrrrggghhh?” Kael made a sound that was half-growl, half-confused whine.

“It is working!” Viper yelled, scratching diligently.

“Unbelievable,” Syris muttered, shaking his head as he rubbed the tiger’s soft spot. “A King… brought to his knees by ear scratches. He is truly pathetic.”

“Open wide!” Ren yelled.

She took advantage of Kael’s “scritch-induced paralysis.” She dipped the small clay bowl into the pot, scooped up a serving of meat and gravy, and brought it to his mouth.

Kael gagged, then tasted.

His ears perked up. The spicy, meaty, savory explosion hit his tongue.

“Mlem.”

He swallowed.

“Keep scratching!” Ren yelled, scooping another bowlful.

“My arm is cramping!” Viper whined, but he didn’t stop.

Ren poured the last of the gumbo directly from the pot into Kael’s mouth. He licked it clean, purring so loud the dungeon walls shook.

“Done!” Ren gasped, backing away with the empty pot. “Clear out!”

Syris and Viper released the ears and leaped back as if the tiger were radioactive.

Kael slumped to the floor.

“Did it work?” Viper panted, moving to stand beside Syris.

For a moment, there was silence. Just the sound of heavy breathing and the dripping of stalactite water.

Kael lay still. Then, he let out a low, pained groan. His body began to convulse.

“Something is wrong,” Ren said, stepping forward. “Kael?”

“Get back,” Syris warned, grabbing Ren’s arm and pulling her behind him. His eyes narrowed. “He is changing.”

The massive white tiger shuddered. The white fur seemed to retract, dissolving into the skin.

The giant beast shrank. The paws became hands. The snout receded.

In seconds, the tiger was gone.

Lying on the cold, dirty stone floor was a man.

He was naked, his muscular back heaving with effort. His tan skin was stained with mud and dried blood. His white hair was matted and tangled, covering his face as he lay face down.

He didn’t move.

Ren held her breath, clutching the empty clay pot to her chest.

“Kael?” she whispered.

The man on the floor twitched his fingers.

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