Surviving Zombies Was Easier Than Raising Beast Cubs

Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Host, you should not frighten small cubs while receiving important survival information

By the time Kael carried them into the cave hidden behind the waterfall, Swanly’s whole body felt as if it had been dragged through three disasters, one emotional court case, and a wild animal documentary that had gone terribly personal.

The cave was not ugly.

That was the annoying part.

If the world wanted to ruin her life, it could at least have the decency to be ugly about it.

Instead, the cave was wide and dry inside, with smooth stone walls curved around a shallow hollow where dry grass, animal skins, and soft moss had been arranged into a sleeping place. The waterfall poured outside the entrance in a silver curtain, loud enough to cover small sounds, but not so loud that she could not hear the forest beyond it. Cool mist drifted in from the opening, making the cave smell clean, wet, and alive.

A narrow stream ran along one side of the cave before disappearing through a crack in the stone. Pale light slipped through the waterfall and scattered over the floor in moving patterns. It would have been beautiful if Swanly had not been busy having a life crisis.

Kael had left not long ago to hunt.

He had not wanted to leave her.

That much had been obvious, even to Swanly, who currently understood this world about as well as a fish understood tax law.

He had stood at the cave entrance, tall, broad-shouldered, black-haired, and far too good-looking for a man who was looking at her like she might dissolve if he blinked too slowly. His dark golden eyes had moved from her face to the cubs, then back to her again.

”Stay inside,” he had said.

Swanly had hugged the three cubs to her chest and frowned at him. ”Do not die.”

The words had slipped out before she could stop them.

Kael had gone very still.

For a second, he had looked at her as if she had handed him something fragile and warm after years of throwing stones at him.

Then his ears had flicked once, and his voice had gone rough. ”I will come back.”

Swanly had looked away immediately because she did not have the emotional energy to deal with a wounded panther husband, three abandoned baby panthers, a missing system, a new body, and infected forest creatures all in the same morning.

”Good,” she had muttered. ”Because if you leave me alone in this world, I will haunt you.”

Kael had stared at her for a long moment.

Then, without another word, he shifted back into his black panther form and disappeared through the waterfall.

Now Swanly was sitting inside the cave with the three cubs gathered in front of her like a tiny judgment council.

The eldest sat very straight, his little chest puffed out as if he had decided that while Papa was away, he was the new protector of the cave. His black fur was still slightly damp from the waterfall mist, making it fluff up around his face. His golden eyes watched Swanly with serious concern, but because his ears were too round and his paws were too big, the serious expression only made him look more painfully cute.

The second cub sat close beside him, quieter than the others, his little tail curled around his paws. His eyes were soft and observant, and every time Swanly moved too fast, he blinked as if he expected her to become angry again.

The smallest cub had already tried to climb onto her lap three times, but each time he stopped halfway and looked at her face first, as if asking silently whether he was allowed.

That hurt.

It hurt in a way Swanly did not want to examine too closely.

So she did the reasonable thing.

She stared into the air and screamed at a glowing fairy.

”You are telling me,” Swanly said slowly, with both hands shaking at her sides, ”that I died?”

The glowing little system floated in front of her face with its tiny hands pressed together.

It was not the blue screen she remembered.

No.

Apparently, after ruining her life, the system had decided to become cute.

It looked like a tiny glowing fairy, about the size of Swanly’s palm, with soft light wings, a round face, little floating hair, and huge guilty eyes. Its whole body gave off a pale gold glow, and the glow flickered every time Swanly raised her voice, as if even its light was scared of her.

The three cubs stared at it.

Then they stared at Swanly.

Then they stared at the empty air near Swanly’s face, because as far as they were concerned, their mother was yelling at nothing.

The smallest cub leaned close to his brothers and whispered, ”Mama shout at air.”

The second cub nodded very slowly. ”Air bad?”

The eldest frowned with great seriousness. ”Maybe air bite Mama.”

The smallest gasped. ”Air bite?”

Swanly snapped her head toward them. ”The air did not bite me.”

All three cubs jumped.

Then they huddled together.

The fairy system floated higher and gave Swanly an offended look. ”Host, you should not frighten small cubs while receiving important survival information.”

Swanly slowly turned back to it.

Her smile was empty.

The system’s glow dimmed.

Swanly said, ”You are the last thing in this cave that should be lecturing me.”

The system swallowed, although Swanly was very sure it did not have a real throat. ”Host, the situation is slightly complicated.”

”Slightly?”

”Yes.”

”Slightly?”

The system flinched. ”Moderately.”

Swanly laughed once.

The cubs flinched again.

The eldest whispered, ”Mama laugh scary.”

The second cub whispered back, ”Mama sick?”

The smallest cub’s eyes grew wet. ”Mama dying?”

Swanly’s head whipped toward them. ”I am not dying.”

The smallest cub immediately covered his face with both tiny paws.

The sight nearly killed her.

Swanly turned back to the system because if she kept looking at them, she would become soft, and she could not afford to become soft while dealing with this glowing criminal.

”Explain,” she said.

The system hovered in place, its tiny wings trembling. ”In your original world, during the final infected wave, you were critically injured. Your body did not survive.”

Swanly’s face went blank.

For a few seconds, she heard only the waterfall.

The cave seemed to grow colder.

She remembered running.

She remembered the smell of smoke.

She remembered an infected creature slamming through the barricade.

She remembered blood on her hands, her own or someone else’s, she had not known.

She remembered the system screaming warnings in her head.

Then nothing.

Her lips parted.

”So I actually died.”

The system lowered its head. ”Yes.”

The three cubs felt the change in her even though they did not understand the words. Their tiny bodies grew still. The second cub pressed closer to the eldest, and the smallest one looked at Swanly’s face with frightened, round eyes.

Swanly’s voice came out quieter. ”Then why am I here?”

The system’s wings gave one guilty flutter. ”You were supposed to be revived in your original world after emergency soul preservation. Many users from infected worlds were being recovered, repaired, and returned. However, during the revival process, there was an overlap between your world and an alternative infected world.”

Swanly stared at it.

The system spoke faster, as if speed could protect it from murder. ”This world is an alternative beast world that also began developing infection outbreaks. Your alternative self existed here, but she had already died after consuming a poison fruit. Because the body was empty and compatible with your soul signature, the system transfer locked onto it.”

Swanly did not blink.

The system’s voice became smaller. ”So you were placed here.”

Swanly slowly pressed a hand to her forehead.

The cave spun slightly.

The cubs watched her with deep concern.

The eldest whispered, ”Mama head hurt?”

The second cub nodded. ”Mama need nap.”

The smallest cub added, ”Mama need lick.”

”No one is licking me,” Swanly said automatically.

Then she pointed at the system. ”What about the others?”

The system perked up slightly, relieved to be asked a question that did not involve its death. ”Other users who were misplaced into nearby alternative worlds have mostly been found and returned to their original timelines.”

Swanly stared.

The system smiled nervously.

Swanly’s voice became terrifyingly calm. ”Mostly.”

The system froze.

”Host,” it said weakly.

Swanly leaned forward. ”Say it.”

The system’s tiny shoulders slumped. ”You cannot be returned the same way because your original body is dead beyond repair, and this alternative body has already accepted your soul. If we try to remove you, your soul may collapse completely.”

The waterfall kept falling outside.

The three cubs kept breathing softly beside her.

Swanly’s smile grew.

It was not a happy smile.

The eldest cub’s ears slowly folded back.

The second cub whispered, ”Mama smile bad.”

The smallest whispered, ”Mama bite air?”

The system heard that and immediately floated farther away.

Swanly clasped her hands together. ”So let me understand this properly.”

The system trembled.

”I survived zombies, starvation, betrayals, infected waves, stupid missions, and your useless pop-up warnings.”

The system raised one tiny finger. ”The warnings were helpful.”

Swanly’s eye twitched.

The finger lowered.

She continued, ”Then I died anyway.”

The system nodded carefully.

”You were supposed to revive me.”

Another nod.

”You made a mistake.”

The system’s glow flickered. ”A small transfer complication.”

”You made a mistake.”

”Yes,” the system whispered.

”And because my alternative self in this world died after eating poison fruit, I got dropped into her body, inherited her mate, inherited her children, inherited her furry ears, inherited her tail, inherited her family trauma, and now there are infected beast creatures outside too?”

The system gave a tiny, miserable nod.

Swanly stared at it.

Then she asked, very softly, ”What is the point of you?”

The system looked offended and devastated at the same time. ”Host, I brought your space!”

Swanly paused, ”you brought my space...”

The cubs looked from her to the air.

The smallest whispered, ”Air bring space?”

The second whispered, ”Can eat space?”

The eldest whispered, ”Maybe space is prey.”

Swanly ignored them because her brain had snagged on one useful word.

”My space?” She repeated.

The system immediately brightened, as if it had found one dry twig to cling to in a flood. ”Yes! Your storage space survived the transfer. All items you had stored before death remain available. Food, water, medicine, tools, materials, basic seeds, and some mission rewards are preserved. You should thank me. Without me, you would have entered this world with nothing.”

Swanly became very still.

The system’s smile grew hopeful.

”Really?” Swanly said.

The system nodded quickly. ”Yes!”

Swanly smiled sweetly. ”So you think I should thank you?”

The system floated a little closer. ”Well, technically, Host does owe a small amount of gratitude.”

The cubs watched with wide eyes.

The eldest narrowed his eyes at the glowing spot in the air even though he could not see it. Something about Swanly’s smile made his fur puff.

The second cub leaned back.

The smallest cub whispered, ”Mama hunting air.”

The system came closer, glowing and innocent, its tiny face lifting as if it expected Swanly to pat its head.

Swanly reached out gently.

The system smiled.

Then Swanly pinched its tiny ear.

Hard.

”OW! OW! OW! HOST! LET GO! THAT IS ILLEGAL!”

Swanly held on. ”Illegal? You kidnapped my soul into a beast world with zombie deer.”

”I saved you!”

”You dropped me into motherhood with no warning!”

”Host is bullying the system! Host is abusing a helpless support fairy!”

”I am about to support-fairy you into the wall.”

”MY EAR! MY EAR IS A SYSTEM ASSET!”

The cubs exploded into startled squeaks.

The smallest cub jumped behind the eldest. ”Mama fighting air!”

The second cub’s eyes became huge. ”Air crying!”

The eldest stood on all four paws and puffed his little chest. ”Mama win!”

Swanly finally released the system.

The tiny fairy shot backward, clutching its glowing ear with both hands, its wings fluttering unevenly.

”You violent woman!” it cried. ”This is why your compatibility score is unstable.”

Swanly pointed at it. ”You are lucky I do not know how to fry fairy systems.”

The system gasped. ”Host is cruel.”

”Host is tired.”

The system sniffed, turned around dramatically, and vanished in a shower of offended golden sparkles.

For a moment, Swanly sat there in silence.

Then she let out a loud groan and dropped back onto the animal skin behind her, one hand dragging through her hair.

Perfect.

Just perfect.

She had left one apocalypse only to survive another one in a completely strange world.

At least in the modern world, there had been buildings. Doors. Locks. Flashlights. Old supermarkets. Actual shoes. Even when everything had fallen apart, there had still been useful scraps from the world before. Metal. Plastic. medicine bottles. Lighters. Knives. Pipes. Batteries.

Here, she had a cave, a waterfall, a panther mate, three baby cubs, furry ears, a tail, a mating mark, infected beast creatures, and a glowing system that deserved jail.

Perfect.

Wonderful.

Spectacular.

She was the crazy one all along.

Not the cubs.

Not Kael.

Her.

They had been completely right from the beginning.

She was their mother in this world. Their real mother, by body, by scent, by life, by whatever strange rules governed this place. She had birthed them here even if the Swanly inside this body had never carried them, never felt their birth pains, never fed them with her own hands, never learned what it meant to be someone’s mother.

That was the strangest part.

She had never been a mother.

In her old world, motherhood had been something other people talked about before the apocalypse turned everyone’s plans into ash. She had never held a baby for more than a few awkward seconds. She had never known what to do when a child cried. She had never imagined herself responsible for one small life, much less three.

And yet, when she looked at the cubs now, something in this body softened.

Maybe it was instinct.

Maybe it was the mating mark.

Maybe it was the fact that they were tiny, wounded, innocent babies who had forgiven her far too quickly.

Swanly slowly lifted her head.

The three cubs were staring at her.

All three looked worried.

The eldest sat rigidly, trying to be brave, but his ears were flat and his round golden eyes were full of uncertainty.

The second cub was half-hidden behind him, peeking out with a trembling little mouth.

The smallest one had tucked his paws beneath himself and lowered his head, as if waiting to be scolded again.

Swanly’s chest squeezed.

”What?” she asked, her voice rough from all the yelling.

The cubs flinched.

Then their faces fell.

The smallest cub whispered, ”Mama mean again.”

Swanly closed her eyes.

”Oh my God.”