he stares at the lacrima she has drained somehow. his worries were not on the fact that she somehow found sustenance on the magic-generating object, but more about how the place will run without it. lights in the place were now turned off, but at least natural light filtered nicely throughout the place.

he snaps back to reality once she spoke to him once more.

her words worry him. he does not know how to make proper food in the kitchen, but he knows how not to make one. what she was ordering him to do was something not one would expect in a kitchen. he's read books before he went to do this thing, and there was nothing that mentioned that.

"will this even taste right?"

although he questions her, he does what he tells her to do. various ingredients went into the pot without second thought. as long as they're edible, uther reluctantly adds them into the mixture.

shooting continued as he approached the hoard. one, two... each individual shot pierced through an undead's skull, thinning their numbers one by one in rapid succession. still, he finds the rate at which they decrease the horde's numbers far too slow.

the guns on his hand disappear, and in the next moment, they're replaced with a large blade on a gun's stock that acts as its hilt. he runs towards the largest clump he could see, utilizing the buff as to not waste it.

hitting the trigger of the gun cause a sudden wide movement. uther slashes the zombies in front of him with a wide arc, aided by the recoil of the gunblade. projectiles would be shot from behind him, but that was of little consequence compared to the damage he does with the blade.

"i like how you think!" he'd remark, the positivity radiant in his voice. he affixes the large blade in a proper stance, readying for another attack. "it's either that or tire ourselves trying to fight these anyways."

it wasn't in the job description to fix the source of the problem, but anything extra was worth it for uther. excitement and grandeur of doing something as majestic as doing the public a favor always made a good story.

the moment it took their target to hit enlil was the window he needed. the window of opportunity presented itself in the least desirable manner, but it was enlil. that guy doesn't seem to be hurt anyways despite being thrown off the roof.

the rifle was trained on their target. under the moonlight, their figure was outlined and was easier to track, especially since his eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now. the aiming did not take any longer than a moment.

"bang," he exclaimed in the most hushed manner possible.

finger on the trigger, the shot was fired. the bullet would hit the gang member's thigh, grazing it and wounding it much worse. two wounds on the same leg would effectively get the limb to be unusable until it gets treated.

"i got him!"

"this rifle is more for hunting that sniping though." he readies the firearm once more, readying another shot. "i'll try though."

he'd been chasing him with enlil, gun on hand. he'd skid as he forced himself to a stop. pulling the gun up to an angle that hits the rooftops, he aimed the gun at where the target was supposed to be.

light was limited to nonexistent. the only way to get a shot off on their target was through observing their movements within the shadows and trying to make a rough estimate of their location.

a shot would fire off by their target's feet, though it wouldn't hit. it stopped their tracks for a moment, however, but that's it.

"please get hit," he'd silently pray as he continued shooting.

multiple shots would be aimed towards the perpetrator, but none would hit. the most that it did would be to get them to slow down. he has enlil to back him up, however.

this was probably his first time doing kitchen work, and it shows in the amount of cuts he already gave himself trying to slice the ingredients for the soup into more manageable pieces.

his fingers were full of bandages and blood already dried up on places uther had forgotten to wipe. it only has been vegetables that have been prepared and uther already was having problems he was too proud to admit. physical pain was negligible, but knowing that he can't accomplish the simple task of preparing the soup without hurting himself was something else.

uther wanted to cry since no one else was in the kitchen besides him, but he needed to be strong.

eyes would keep watching the door almost every minute, silently hoping that someone else will arrive and save him from the predicament he was in. help was to arrive soon. they were late and forced him to do things on his own, which most likely jeopardizes the volunteer work.

"hehe," he'd snicker as he was confronted with his use of a nickname. "it's easier to say after all."

and so he works with enchantment.

uther finds himself invigorated all of a sudden after the chant of sorts, with sudden sensations on his lower half of the body suggesting the enhancements in his muscles. "i'm not sure what to do with this though," he confesses, but before his words came through, romilda was already gone.

he approaches the horde along with his partner, though his pace was noticeably slower that his. it was more like he took it easy than anything else. as soon as the targets get in range, he switches from his rifle to his pistols.

he'd point both of them at the enemy and started shooting indiscriminately, rapid firing. "get them!" he'd yell in encouragement, watching the larger man from afar as he sprayed and prayed.

"mine's nothing special," he answer, followed with a chuckle. "just a bit of basic spatial magic, i guess."

he demonstrates his magic in front of him, summoning forth a rifle from nothing. as soon as the firearm materialize, his hands would instinctively move it to a position where he gets ready to shoot. a shooting stance just feels right whenever he holds a gun.

"requip," he mentions the name of his magic softly.

he moves the end of the barrel towards the target location. the zombies have not come out of their hiding places just yet, but if the information given to them were correct, a simple noise would bring them all out in the open.

"romi," he calls him by a nickname he gives him on the fly, "you're ready, right?"

he hasn't told uther of his magic yet, but a practical demonstration was about to be witnessed soon enough anyways. he'd know of what the other was capable of in just a matter of seconds.

without wasting a second, he'd fire a shot from afar. the sound would wake the living dead up. he can take out a few one at a time, but he probably can't deal with a horde with just his rifle.