Dragon Genesis: I Can Create Dragons - Chapter 537: A small, simple moment.
Chapter 537: A small, simple moment.
“Is it done…?”
“We eat it…?”
“Hungry.”
“Need to eat…”
“Your mouth disgusting. Water coming out.”
“Your mouth same.”
“You all disgusting.”
The first thing that changed the air in the Stonefang quarter… was not words.
It was scent.
Warm steam rose from the pot in slow curls, carrying a smell so… rich and clean that it felt almost unreal in a place like the Heights.
And the moment the Stonefangs smelled it, their bodies reacted. The Divine Rations were different from what these people were used to. Even the Velmourns, who have been consuming the Divine Rations for a while now, were unable to resist its smell—let alone the Stonefangs, who were smelling that captivating scent for the first time.
Their eyes already had this hazy look, almost as if they were losing their minds.
At first, they tried to pretend that they were unaffected.
Warriors stood near the fire pits with hard faces, arms crossed, their eyes fixed on the Velmourn elders like they were waiting for them to make even a single bad move so they could take them out. Mothers held children closer, their wariness wasn’t hidden, and the Elders sat with their backs straight, refusing to look too eager.
But…
The scent didn’t care about pride.
It crawled into every nose, every throat, every… empty stomach.
And one by one… eyes began to change.
Of course, the scent alone wouldn’t magically build trust but…
But the sharp hostility in the Stonefang eyes dulled, just a little.
A Stonefang child tugged his mother’s sleeve and whispered something in their rough language. The mother tried to hush him, but her own eyes kept flicking toward the pot.
The Velmourn elders didn’t fail to notice it either. As they looked around and saw the Stonefangs’ reactions, they couldn’t help but notice it.
One of the elders actually smiled a little and—
“They look like we did,”
He muttered softly.
Kael heard him and gave a faint laugh as he too looked around. This scene was similar—the way the Stonefangs were reacting right now was the same as how the Velmourns acted when he first brought the Divine Rations.
The similarity was almost scary; he felt a sense of déjà vu.
Lavinia, standing beside him, felt the same and nodded at the elder’s words.
In front of them, the cooking station had been set up with simple tools: a pot, a flat heated stone, and wooden stir sticks.
There was nothing fancy or luxurious; in the Heights, this was luxurious.
The ingredients were laid out in small piles.
Frostflower mushrooms, Icemoss loaves, gel ration, and fungal biscuits.
That was it.
There were no spices, no oil, no sweeteners, yet the smell was enough to make the entire quarter feel quieter.
Chief Gruumak stood nearby with several Stonefang elders—older men and women with weathered faces and hard eyes.
They tried to act unimpressed; after all, they knew Kael had brought these Velmourns here to teach them, and the last thing these elders wanted was to learn from these bastards.
But… their noses betrayed them, and their eyes, that could no longer leave the pot, followed.
Kael, seeing this chance, stepped forward. He looked at the Stonefang elders, then at the Velmourn elders.
“Let’s start,”
He said simply.
The Velmourn elder nodded and began speaking in a clear voice as his hands began to move.
“You don’t throw everything in at once,”
The elder said.
“If you do, it turns into mush.”
Kael translated into the Stonefang tongue. The Stonefang elders listened, still trying to look disinterested, but they were attentive.
The Velmourn elder pointed at the pot.
“First, you warm the base.
Keep in mind, you don’t boil it—you warm it.”
Kael translated.
A Stonefang elder grunted and said something. Kael listened, then turned back to the Velmourn elder.
“He asked how to tell the difference,”
He translated.
The Velmourn elder nodded like he expected that question.
“You watch the surface,”
He explained.
“Small ripples, steam rising, no violent bubbles.”
Kael translated again.
The Stonefang elder nodded slowly. Another elder leaned closer, eyes fixed on the pot, memorizing the movement of the water like it was battle strategy.
The Velmourn elder continued.
“Then you add the mushrooms first.
Don’t put everything—only half.”
He demonstrated, dropping them in with a careful hand. The mushrooms sank, then slowly floated back up, and the smell sharpened instantly.
Stonefang warriors who had been standing far away shifted closer without realizing it.
A few sniffed openly now.
“Smell like feast.”
One of the Stonefang elders muttered, the drool coming from his mouth making others around him laugh at him.
Kael translated that for the Velmourn elder, and the old man chuckled softly.
“That’s what we said too,”
He laughed as he turned towards his friend; they were all laughing too, recalling the day they first tasted it.
Kael translated again, this time for the Stonefangs, and when the Stonefangs understood that the Velmourns were laughing with them, not at them,
The mood warmed by a small fraction.
Yes, things were going quite well.
Actually, it was something Kael wanted quite desperately. He had already brought the Velmourns and the Stonefangs together; now, it was time to build unity.
And for that, what he relied on the most was…
The food.
He was planning to use the same trick that Lavinia used to promote unity between the Stonefangs and the Velmourns.
So this was extremely important for Kael, and the Velmourn Elders he had chosen did not disappoint him.
They didn’t let their hatred for the Stonefangs consume them; instead, they came here and, after seeing the Stonefangs’ reaction to the food they were making, they too tried to teach them actively, openly sharing what had been benefiting them for days.
Suddenly—
“This is the heart,”
The elder acting as the head chef today pointed at the gel ration pieces and spoke out loud.
“You break it, but don’t make them too small. If it dissolves too fast, the texture becomes wrong.”
Kael translated.
The Stonefang elder closest to the station spoke quickly, gesturing with two fingers like a blade cut.
“He says they can crush it faster,”
Kael translated back.
“They are used to rough food. They don’t care about texture.”
The Velmourn elder shook his head.
“Texture matters.
If it becomes paste, people will eat less.
If they eat less, they grow weaker.
If they grow weaker, they die.”
Kael translated, and Stonefang faces hardened. The Stonefang elders quieted immediately, their faces tightened, much more serious than before—because that logic spoke their language perfectly.
Survival was the most important.
The Velmourn elders, seeing that reaction, became more confident.
They started teaching with more energy now, hands moving faster, voices stronger.
They explained timing.
How long to stir.
How hard to press the gel.
When to add the Icemoss loaves.
They taught everything carefully, without hiding anything.
“The Icemoss goes in last, because it burns quickly.”
The elder showed them how to fold it into the steam, then he placed the fungal biscuits near the heat, warming them just enough so they became softer.
“Don’t warm them for too long, or they go bitter.”
He warned.
Kael translated every word.
And the strangest thing happened.
The Stonefang elders started participating.
And they didn’t do it reluctantly, nor were they forced—they leaned forward. They reached out. They began active participation.
Even asking short, blunt questions.
“How much?”
“How long?”
“Why not now?”
One of them even took the stir stick without waiting, stirring carefully, watching the ripples like they were watching a wound being stitched.
The Velmourn elder blinked in surprise, but then he laughed, genuinely pleased.
“That’s it.
Just like that.”
He praised.
Kael translated, and the Stonefang elder’s mouth twitched slightly—almost forming a… smile.
It almost looked friendly, but Kael knew better.
They weren’t friends.
Not yet.
But even then, even when they were just people learning how to feed their tribe, this was… giving birth to something special.
After a while, the Velmourn elder stepped back and held out his hand.
“Now you do it,”
He said.
Kael translated.
A Stonefang elder looked at the pot, then at Kael, then grunted.
He stepped forward and began from the start.
He warmed the base.
He added half the mushrooms.
He crushed the gel ration to the right size.
He stirred with controlled force—not too rough, not too gentle.
When he reached for the Icemoss too early, a Velmourn elder quickly tapped his hand away—an action that made other Stonefangs, especially the warriors, react immediately. But the elder’s movements were extremely gentle; after all, he too was being extra careful.
It took all his might to hide his disgust when he touched the Stonefang, but in the end, he diverted his attention as he looked and pointed at the steam.
“Wait,”
He spoke in a soft tone.
“Wait, then add.”
Kael translated.
The Stonefang elder froze for a second, then nodded and waited like he was told to. It was quite surprising—even for the Velmourn Elder—to think the ’monster’ actually understood him.
He didn’t sense any anger or any reaction that showed the Stonefang Elder might flip out. There was just a single correction and acceptance.
A small, simple moment.
But a moment that mattered far more than any speech.
Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com
