An Undead Who Was Hungry

Tiffany had also gotten a decent share of the roast horse meat, but after trying just a little, she gave up. Everyone else did too. The meat was either burnt, undercooked, or both. All in all, Tiffany would rather go hungry than eat that stuff.

Just as Tiffany was greedily sucking the grains from a large wooden spoon, an odd sound suddenly rang out in the shed.

"Grrr!"

Tiffany froze and instinctively patted her stomach. Though she had already eaten quite a lot, it was still as flat as ever.

"It wasn't me!" Tiffany lowered the wooden spoon in her hand and awkwardly explained herself to Malone.

"I know..." Malone looked both confused and disbelieving.

"Was... was that you, Mr. Malone?" Tiffany asked.

"It was me..." Malone's expression remained blank. He murmured as if speaking to Tiffany, yet also as if talking to himself.

"Why me?"

At that moment, the same sound rang out again. Malone could finally confirm that a rumbling noise was coming from his stomach—or his lower abdomen, at any rate.

Malone thought carefully about what he knew of Death Knights, especially the first generation.

There was no doubt about it: Death Knights were dead.

The most famous Death Knight, Arthas Menethil, had somehow gone from living to dead at some point, but the other Death Knights had all been created from the dead—especially the first generation.

I'm a Death Knight, Malone told himself. But which Death Knight gets hungry?

Did the Undead even have appetites?

Perhaps some of them did. Otherwise, there wouldn't be such things as Ghouls.

But Malone had never heard of a Death Knight being interested in the food the living ate.

"Teron, take a look at this stuff..." Malone nudged the distracted Teron Gorefiend and asked for confirmation. "Do you want to eat it?"

"Eat?" Teron Gorefiend looked at the pot Malone was pointing at, baffled. "Why would I eat? I'm already dead!"

"But... you don't want to eat at all? Does the smell not whet your appetite? If you don't eat, how do you keep your body moving?" Malone fired off a whole string of questions, unwilling to give up.

"How should I know...? You'll have to ask Gul'dan." Teron Gorefiend couldn't answer any of Malone's questions.

Malone lowered his head in dismay. He needed some time to think about what he actually was.

There was no doubt that Malone was a Death Knight. Both Teron Gorefiend's testimony and Malone's own memories confirmed it.

He even remembered that mechanical voice. It had clearly said that he had unlocked the "Death Knight" class.

But Malone had also discovered some peculiarities about his body, and they left him troubled.

How could a Death Knight sweat? Smell the stench of corpses on Teron Gorefiend? Feel pain? Get scalded by hot water?

More importantly, how could a Death Knight get hungry?

Perhaps he wasn't a Death Knight after all—or at least, his body wasn't. The realization left Malone both happy and worried.

Of course Malone didn't want to be dead. What fun was there in being dead? He couldn't eat or drink. More importantly, he figured a Death Knight couldn't get a girlfriend, either.

But not being a Death Knight brought its own problems. At the very least, his previous plan might fall apart before he could put it into action. If he needed food and drink, how could he stay away from people? He couldn't live off hunting in the woods every day, could he?

As Malone weighed the matter from every angle, he suddenly noticed a large wooden spoon in front of him.

Malone looked up in surprise and saw Tiffany covering her mouth with one little hand as she giggled.

"Mr. Malone, you're hungry too, aren't you? Have some! I can't finish all of this by myself!" Tiffany said with a smile.

"I..." Malone thought it over, then took the spoon from Tiffany and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the meat porridge, whatever it was made from.

It tastes awful... Malone frowned, but the attempt confirmed that he really did need to eat.

In theory, a Death Knight's esophagus and throat should both be rotting. Even if he swallowed food, it would only become waste inside his body.

But to Malone, the warm liquid sliding down his throat and into his stomach felt exactly like eating had before. This definitely wasn't something that should happen to a Death Knight.

The food in the pot made Malone feel queasy, but with Tiffany's encouragement, he still managed to eat a few more spoonfuls.

Now that he knew he was a Death Knight who needed to eat, he had to at least get some food to keep his strength up. After all, I still need to get Tiffany out of this military camp, Malone thought.

And so Malone and Tiffany took turns eating, soon finishing everything in the pot.

Tiffany licked her lips and patted her stomach with her little hand. Though she had eaten quite a lot, it was still as flat as ever.

Noticing Malone staring at her blankly, Tiffany's little face turned red. She lowered her head shyly. Perhaps because it was her first full meal in many days, the young noblewoman had gotten carried away and made a rather unladylike gesture.

"Maicomarlon, what are you doing?" Teron Gorefiend stared in shock as Malone put the large wooden spoon back into the pot.

"What am I doing? I'm eating," Malone replied casually.

"Eating? Have you gone mad?" Teron Gorefiend grabbed Malone by the throat. "We Death Knights can't eat! That stuff will just sit in your intestines and speed up your body's decay... Spit it out, now!"

Teron Gorefiend frantically shoved his fingers into Malone's mouth, trying to make his companion throw up everything he had just eaten.

"What are you doing, Teron?" Malone pushed his hand away, displeased. "I'm different from you. I'm the kind of Death Knight who needs to eat."

"A Death Knight who eats? How could such a thing exist?" Teron Gorefiend stared at Malone, not believing a word he said.

"I'd better take you to see Gul'dan!" Teron Gorefiend told Malone. "Maicomarlon, I think there's something wrong with you."

"Why would I go see Gul'dan..." Malone knew who Gul'dan was. He didn't know whether Gul'dan could see through the secret of his body, and, of course, he didn't want to take that risk.