Chapter 121 – Dinner!

Sera has been back for less than ten minutes, and Avelyn has already adopted her.

A highly concerning development.

I notice this because the red-and-gold Foxkin has spent most of the walk peppering Sera with careful little questions whenever she looks even remotely receptive.

Sera, for her part, appears unsure what to do with this development.

Her answers remain brief.

Her ears keep turning toward Avelyn anyway.

Curious.

Over the past few days of living with Avelyn in actual civilization, I have reached a conclusion.

The healer appears to possess some mysterious ability to draw anyone and everyone closer to her, like an errant singularity wandering toward an unsuspecting star system.

Other inn patrons. Berry vendors. Clothing store attendants.

Even Arlo himself has fallen victim to whatever ethically dubious technique she is clearly utilizing.

Within five minutes of conversation, they are friends.

Within ten, she has somehow extracted enough personal information to assemble a reasonably sized CIA interrogation document.

Within an hour, I am fairly certain most of them would willingly donate a kidney.

Mildly terrifying.

Thankfully, I am far too composed, beautiful, intelligent, and generally magnificent to be affected by such mental attacks.

My tail flicks haughtily.

Both Sera and Avelyn notice.

Neither questions it.

Excellent.

Speaking of clothing store attendants…

I glance sideways at Avelyn.

She smiles warmly.

…

She is still wearing my hoodie.

Despite the fact that we collectively decided to visit one of the village clothing stores and liquidate some of our assets.

A respectable decision.

The clothing available was almost painfully simple, but I at least managed to obtain several more practical outfits for situations where combat gear would be unnecessary.

Avelyn did the same, although the seamstress was unable to repair either her equipment or mine.

Apparently, the runic structures woven into both had suffered too much damage, meaning proper repairs will have to wait until we reach Bramblegate.

Tragic.

I look at the hoodie again.

For some reason, I get the distinct impression that I will not be receiving it back unless I specifically request its return.

Acceptable.

For now.

The black does contrast wonderfully with her red and gold.

As we approach the inn, my ears inform me well ahead of time that everyone is already present.

Likely waiting for Avelyn and me.

Reasonable.

It is currently around dinner time, and it would appear that tasting my cooking has awakened the party to the delights of culinary expertise, because I have been requested to prepare roughly eighty percent of the meals we have collectively consumed over the past four days.

Thank the stars a caravan rolled into town around the midpoint of our wait for Sera, bringing with it the holy grail of cooking.

Eggs.

Attempting to maintain a respectable level of variety using primarily vegetables, meat, and bread had begun to present a mild challenge.

Only mild, naturally.

I am, after all, a genius.

Apparently, most caravans that pass through the village carry a stockpile of eggs. They simply tend to vanish from the market stalls and grocery stores within a day of arrival.

Unfortunate.

We round the corner and find the entire party—as expected—loitering outside the inn.

Marek and Zeke have claimed spots on the ground, while Rin sits comfortably on a windowsill nearby. All three are engaged in casual conversation.

Sylrae, meanwhile, lounges along the edge of the roof above them, listening with an expression that gives me the distinct impression she is thinking something along the lines of, "You terrestrial beings amuse me."

A completely normal evening.

I intend to make it considerably less normal.

I hop lightly from the fence.

Avelyn follows, while Sera continues along the ground where she has been walking from the beginning.

An inferior pathing method.

Sylrae notices us first and raises one hand in greeting.

The motion pauses slightly when she spots the Catkin walking to my left.

Only slightly.

The others react in much the same way as their attention shifts toward us.

Sylrae slips from the rooftop and allows her wings to turn what should have been a several-meter plummet into a gentle descent.

A single feather works loose and drifts through the air behind her.

She catches it before it reaches the ground.

Then, without hesitation, she hands it to me.

I accept the offering and store it away.

Excellent.

Up to five.

I still have no idea what I intend to do with them, but I am certain they will eventually contribute to something highly aesthetic.

Marek rises, giving Avelyn and me a brief greeting before turning his attention toward Sera.

“Nice to meet you. Name’s Marek.”

The others rise and introduce themselves in turn.

Sera listens quietly, her ears shifting toward each speaker.

Once they finish, she gives a small nod.

“Sera.”

A short silence follows.

Marek waits.

Sera looks back at him. Apparently, she considers the introduction complete.

His mouth twitches slightly.

I approve.

“Arlo said you were clearing the dungeon on your own,” he says.

“I was.”

“Anything interesting in there?”

Sera considers this for a moment.

“The boss had four arms.”

Another pause.

Zeke glances toward Rin.

Rin looks suspiciously entertained.

Marek simply nods.

“Fair enough.”

Sera’s tail gives one small flick underneath her cloak. Successful social interaction achieved.

Marek pats his stomach and turns toward me.

“So, what’s the plan, Little Miss? You cooking, or are we hitting a restaurant? Heard there’s a pretty good stew place a few blocks from that bakery.”

I say nothing.

Instead, I withdraw a teleportation talisman.

He blinks.

“Oh.”

Then he grins. A rare occurrence compared to his usual warm, gruff smiles.

“We’re doing that?”

I nod solemnly.

Naturally, I had needed to verify that my plan would actually work before subjecting the entire party to it. After careful consideration, I determined that Marek would have the least entertaining reaction to the experiment and was therefore selected as my test subject.

He had been remarkably willing.

Obviously.

Everyone else looks considerably more confused.

“I am now slightly concerned,” Rin says.

I give him an elegant smile.

His concern visibly increases.

How strange.

My smile continues to function as a remarkably effective stress-based weapon against the party despite being objectively beautiful.

I gently take Avelyn’s hand.

A faint flush immediately colors her face, although she heroically manages to preserve most of her composure.

Then I take Sera’s.

One of the Catkin’s ears angles sideways in confusion, but she does not question it.

The rest of the party requires only a few seconds to understand the arrangement before linking hands. Sylrae takes Sera’s other hand, causing the Catkin’s ears to stiffen slightly.

Hm.

Nervousness?

Possibly.

Even without access to this world’s equivalent of Wikipedia, my knowledge regarding Beastkin accessories and their various betrayals continues to expand at a respectable pace. Mostly through observing the movements and matching them against my considerably more developed library of facial expressions.

A useful skill to possess now that our newest party member appears to communicate approximately ninety percent of her emotions through her ears and tail while leaving the rest of her body uninformed.

Once everyone is connected, I activate the talisman.

The world flashes white.

The sounds of the village vanish instantly, replaced by rustling leaves, a soft breeze, and the distant warbling of slimes.

The light fades.

We stand atop a broad hill clearing overlooking the forest.

Only a handful of trees interrupt the view, their leaves shifting gently beneath the evening breeze. Grass and clusters of wildflowers ripple around our feet in slow waves as the waning sun hangs close to the horizon, spilling amber light across everything it touches.

Beyond the hill, the forest stretches for kilometers in every direction, a vast tapestry of greens and browns interrupted by winding rivers and occasional clearings.

...Along with several suspiciously frozen patches of woodland.

No idea where those came from.

Completely unrelated to us.

Floating islands drift lazily through the distant sky, already darkening beneath the setting sun. Farther to the west, the Desolate Mountaintops dominate the horizon, their jagged peaks rising like an enormous row of teeth against the fading light.

For several seconds, nobody speaks.

Avelyn lets out a quiet breath beside me.

Zeke mutters something appreciative under his breath, while Rin simply stares out over the forest.

Even Sera’s ears rise slightly.

My tail gives a pleased swish.

Sylrae, naturally, looks considerably less impressed. She is the one who discovered the place, after all.

A few days ago, while searching the surrounding wilderness for any conveniently available Tier Two monsters suitable for my cooking, she had stumbled across this hill and returned with a description sufficiently interesting to warrant immediate investigation.

I subsequently had her bring me here so I could anchor a teleportation talisman.

A decision that has now proven exceptionally wise.

The view alone would justify it.

The fact that the nearest person capable of objecting to what I have cooked is several dozen kilometers away is merely an additional benefit.

Rin whistles as he releases Zeke and Marek’s hands.

“Damn, Little Miss. If you’re using a talisman to bring us all the way out here...” His eyes flick toward Sera before a knowing grin spreads across his face. “...Then did you cook that?”

I release Sera’s hand.

The Catkin gives me a questioning look.

I simply raise one finger to my lips, directing the gesture toward both her and Rin.

Rin’s grin widens immediately. He has interpreted this as a request not to reveal the dragon meat.

Sera’s ears perk a little higher. Judging by her expression, she has reached exactly the same conclusion.

Excellent.

Marek’s small rounded ears twitch once, although his expression remains admirably neutral.

He is completely aware of my plans, after all.

Some sacrifices were necessary during the experimental phase.

I release Avelyn’s hand a moment later and turn toward Sera.

“Might I request a table and several chairs?”

She nods.

“Okay.”

Sera extends both hands.

Brown mana gathers around her fingers, and wood begins flowing upward from the grass.

My ears perk.

Fast.

The table takes shape first, its surface smoothing almost immediately as the grain settles into place. Chairs follow one after another, each forming in less than two seconds.

She even pauses long enough to glance at Marek before producing one substantially larger than the others.

Reasonable.

The alternative would likely qualify as cruelty toward furniture.

I watch another chair assemble.

That is almost as fast as I can create equivalent constructs from Starlight.

Interesting.

“Might I inquire as to the rarity of your Wood Manipulation skill?”

Sera pauses briefly while finishing the last of the chairs.

“Epic.”

I nod solemnly.

Naturally.

As expected of a genius of my caliber, my estimate was entirely correct.

More importantly, she has managed to raise her manipulation skill to the same rarity as mine.

That is considerably more impressive in her case.

My own Astral Manipulation benefits rather substantially from Star being a Peak Aspect. Sera is accomplishing something comparable while working with Wood, a Simple Aspect, meaning considerably more of the result has to come from technique rather than the universe graciously handing her an absurdly cooperative foundation.

It would appear she kept her promise.

The stats from the dragon meat were not wasted.

Avelyn reaches the same conclusion approximately half a second later.

“That’s amazing, Sera!”

Her tail begins swishing enthusiastically.

The rest of the party quickly joins in, Marek offering an approving nod while Zeke looks genuinely impressed. Even Rin gives a low whistle as he runs a hand over the newly formed table.

Sera stands very still through the sudden attention.

“Thanks.”

Her tail begins a slow sweep behind her, visibly disturbing the fabric covering it.

Hm.

Contentment?

Perhaps pride.

Possibly both.

The distinction remains somewhat unclear. Further observation will be required.

Sera catches me staring.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She studies me for a second, apparently unconvinced.

Tragic.

I stretch out one hand.

Starlight gathers above my palm before spreading outward into several soft cushions, placing each one on their own chair.

Hard wood is acceptable for tables.

Less so for prolonged sitting.

Once the final cushion is positioned, I take my own seat.

Directly on the table.

The objectively superior location.

Avelyn immediately settles beside me, clearly being aware of the superior seating philosophy without requiring explanation. Everyone else takes the chairs.

Sera studies her cushion for several seconds before cautiously sitting down.

Her eyes widen.

Then narrow slightly in my direction.

“It’s soft?”

I nod solemnly.

“I shall explain everything after the meal.”

She considers this.

“Okay.”

Remarkably trusting.

Or hungry.

Likely both.

I begin withdrawing utensils from my spatial storage as all four vines emerge from the shadow beneath me. They collect the forks and distribute them around the table with practiced efficiency.

Several pairs of eyes follow the movement.

Then turn expectantly toward me.

Excellent.

An audience.

I reach into my spatial storage again.

Seven large bowls of ramen appear one after another, steam still curling lazily from their surfaces. My vines catch each bowl and pass them around the table before setting the final one in front of me.

I suppress a deeply deserved sense of triumph.

This particular dish had been an ordeal.

The noodles alone required working directly with the local baker to create something resembling the proper texture from scratch. The eggs required discovering exactly how long they could remain submerged in hot water without access to a temperature-controlled stove, which resulted in several casualties during the experimental phase.

Their sacrifices will be remembered.

Then came the broth.

That had required considerably more effort.

Worth it.

Absolutely.

The final product would probably make an actual ramen chef from Earth develop uncontrollable violent impulses. The meat topping is boar rather than pork, the broth comes from an entirely different variety of bone, and I possess precisely none of the soy sauce, nori, or assorted specialized ingredients normally involved in anything more sophisticated than instant noodles.

Nevertheless, limitations merely provide an opportunity for genius to become inconveniently creative.

The smell alone is excellent.

Rich broth surrounds the noodles, topped with thin slices of roasted boar, halved soft-boiled eggs, and several vegetables prepared during my increasingly extensive cooking spree.

Most importantly, it tastes good.

Very good.

Thus, success.

I produce several additional plates of cooked vegetables and fresh berries, placing them within easy reach around the table.

Everyone besides Marek stares at the meal with varying degrees of interest.

Sylrae leans slightly closer to her bowl.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Avelyn has already lowered her face suspiciously close to hers.

She takes a deep sniff.

“It smells... strange.” Her tail begins swishing. “But really good.”

My smile grows slightly as I finish arranging everything.

Naturally.

Sera has not said anything. She is staring into the bowl.

“You eat the liquid too?”

“Yes.”

She nods.

“Okay.”

Apparently, soup has passed inspection.

I collect my own fork.

I would have preferred chopsticks.

There was something deeply appealing about introducing six unsuspecting fantasy adventurers to two narrow pieces of wood and watching civilization temporarily collapse around the dinner table.

Unfortunately, Sera has spent nearly a week inside a dungeon living primarily on raw monster meat.

Even I possess limits.

Forks will suffice.

For now.

I gather a respectable quantity of noodles onto my fork and elegantly slurp them down.

My tail immediately begins swishing with a profoundly undignified level of enthusiasm.

Reasonable.

The noodles are excellent.

After spending a moment studying my technique, everyone else begins attacking their own bowls.

Avelyn’s tail starts moving almost immediately, somehow managing to surpass mine in enthusiasm. The fluffy appendage repeatedly brushes against my own over the edge of the table as she slurps down another mouthful.

Sylrae’s wings give a pleased flutter while she eats considerably more slowly, apparently determined to actually savor the experience.

Zeke and Rin both make the strategically questionable decision to attack the slices of roasted boar first.

Marek goes directly for the egg. He has clearly learned from experience.

Sera takes her first bite.

Her ears immediately perk.

She chews for several seconds, staring into the bowl with the focused expression of someone who has just discovered that food can, in fact, possess joy.

“Delicious.”

My ears perk slightly higher.

I immediately pretend they did no such thing.

“I am honored it is to your enjoyment.”

Sera gives me the smallest smile.

Then she returns to eating with remarkable enthusiasm.

She is even hungrier than I thought.

Mental note: provide additional skewers once she finishes.

Possibly several.

The meal settles into light conversation from there, mostly consisting of Marek and me bringing Sera up to date on the events of the past several days and explaining the party’s capabilities.

Sera listens quietly.

She rarely interrupts, offering the occasional nod or short question whenever something actually requires clarification.

Nobody appears bothered by this.

Excellent.

She fits in surprisingly well.

Sera is unsurprisingly the first to finish her noodles and toppings.

She looks down at the remaining broth. Then at me.

I nod.

Her ears rise another fraction.

She lifts the bowl and begins drinking.

Apparently, requesting clarification on whether the liquid was edible earlier had been preparation for this exact moment.

Wise.

With the immediate threat of starvation sufficiently suppressed, she begins paying more attention to the conversation while slowly working through the broth and occasionally rescuing a vegetable from one of the shared plates.

Then, about halfway through the bowl, her eyes suddenly lose focus.

Ah.

There it is.

I stop eating and watch her with great interest.

During my preliminary testing with Marek, I discovered that the System requires a fairly substantial amount of broth before recognizing precisely what has been consumed.

Apparently, boiling something for several hours and then drinking the resulting liquid creates enough ambiguity that even the System requires a moment to decide whether one has actually eaten the original ingredient.

A fascinating culinary loophole.

Sera remains completely still.

Her ears slowly rise.

Then rise a little more.

Across the table, Rin notices.

“What?”

Sera does not answer. She continues staring at the notification only she can see.

Avelyn lowers her fork.

“Sera?”

The Catkin finally blinks.

Then she turns toward me.

Her expression remains impressively neutral.

Her ears do not.

“Seriously?”

I smile.

“His name was Aurelion.”

Marek immediately begins laughing.

Everyone else looks considerably more concerned.

Avelyn recovers first. She slowly lowers her fork and eyes the broth in front of her.

“What do you mean, ‘his name was’?”

My tail gives an amused swish.

Sera answers for me.

“System notification.” She looks back down at the bowl. “Got stats for consuming a Tier Two Lich bone.”

Silence.

Avelyn’s mouth falls slightly open.

Sylrae pinches the bridge of her nose.

Rin stares suspiciously into his broth as though the answer might somehow become less concerning with further inspection.

Zeke simply looks tired.

“So...” The Wolfkin exhales slowly. “You’ve killed a Lich too.”

I nod.

“It was my tutorial boss.”

He sighs loudly.

“Gods above. At this point, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you somehow managed to kill an angel or demon.”

My ears shoot upright.

“...An angel or demon?”

Zeke freezes.

“Oh no.”

I turn the concept over in my head a few times.

Hm.

Yes.

That would be excellent.

I add both possibilities to the mental task list.

One day, I will fight an angel and a demon. And, assuming they are edible afterward, I will eat them.

Perhaps it will take months. Perhaps years. But I will accomplish it.

This is not a prediction.

It is a promise.

Zeke watches my tail swish and places his face into his hands.

No faith whatsoever.

Avelyn leans lightly against my shoulder.

I glance sideways at her, but she merely shakes her head before returning to her ramen.

Strange.

Still, I do not question it.

At this point, Avelyn leaning against me or occasionally taking my hand or arm has become common enough that I have largely stopped attempting to assign any deeper meaning to it.

She enjoys physical contact.

No more, no less.

Admittedly, she touches the others considerably less than she touches me, but I am both another Foxkin and the only member of the party close to her age.

Perfectly reasonable.

I return my attention to the far more important task of basking in everyone’s disbelief.

The conversation gradually settles back into its usual chaos.

One by one, everyone finishes enough broth for the System to recognize the Lich bone, resulting in another round of increasingly entertaining expressions as the notifications appear.

Within twenty minutes of beginning the meal, every bowl and plate is empty.

Marek and Sera still look hungry afterward, so I provide each of them with several additional skewers.

Sera accepts hers immediately.

Naturally.

Avelyn purifies the dishes once everyone finishes, and I store them away before lightly clapping my hands to interrupt the various conversations around the table.

Several heads turn toward me.

I look at Marek.

He attempts to meet my gaze.

His eyes slide away after barely a second.

Tragic.

He understands the message regardless.

Marek straightens slightly before turning toward Sera and clearing his throat.

“Alright. As party leader, I figure I should make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Sera puts down the remains of her skewer and looks toward him.

“Are you willing to join our adventuring party?”

Her ears angle forward.

Marek continues before she can answer.

“I want you to understand what that means first. Where we’re headed could be extremely dangerous.” His usual warmth remains, but his expression becomes more serious. “You could get injured. You could die. Hesitation at the wrong time might not just get you killed either. It could get anyone sitting here killed.”

Sera does not look away.

Marek pauses.

“So I’m asking properly. Knowing that, do you still want to come with us?”

Everyone turns toward her.

Sera sits slightly straighter.

Her ears remain locked forward.

Her expression barely changes, but the answer is already visible in her posture and the quiet determination in her eyes.

“I do.”

The answer is immediate. No hesitation whatsoever.

Marek studies her for another moment.

Then his serious expression breaks into one of his familiar, gruff smiles.

“In that case, welcome aboard.”

Sera’s tail begins swishing.

Not particularly fast.

For her, however, it might as well be attempting flight.

...Adorable.

Marek gestures toward me.

“In that case, Little Miss?”

I nod.

Sera redirects her attention toward me, the faintest trace of confusion entering her expression.

I smile slightly.

“Since you will be traveling with us, there are several things about me that you need to know.”

Her ears perk.

“Things I intentionally kept hidden when we first met.”

That gets her full attention.

I raise one hand.

Starfire blossoms across my palm.

Kaleidoscopic flames roll over my skin like a river of plasma, shifting endlessly through colors that have no business existing within ordinary fire. Their light spills across Sera’s face as her eyes widen.

“This includes what my Aspect actually is,” I continue, “and precisely what I am capable of.”

Sera’s tail accelerates.

Then accelerates again.

Her gaze locks completely onto the Starfire.

Excellent.

My own tail gives a single, smug swish.

I do so enjoy a receptive audience.