The Wielder of Death Magic

Needless to say, where the impossible stood as an obstacle, innovators came forth to change the orders of matters. Flying was naught but something the birds and insects could do, yet, per the dreams of two brothers, men could now fly without the use of magic. The same can be said for the world of food-making, the idea of using monsters was fiction until a few years ago. The Phantom research society, or PRS for short, a joint group formed between the infamous arms dealer Phantom and the Elon’s dynasty. They made a special substance that forced the beasts into the corporal form and not dust. The organs, blood, and anything in-between could be harvested. Initially, scholars were interested in what laid inside. The plan didn’t go well since the body would vanish when placed on the operating table. The kitchen was a different matter, the parts would remain despite the strenuous techniques. Some called it the Humanitarian phenomenon, ‘-the lingering aura of the beasts senses the ill-intent of those wanting to do an autopsy. The instinct activates to prevent further examination. The kitchen’s only intent is the process of eating, thus meat remains,’ a quote from the leading researcher at PRS.

“The dungeon?” paused Syndra snacking on potato chips, “-you do realize the price are astronomical. Novice chefs have no business trying the forsaken style. Preparation must be done flawlessly else the diner might be poisoned or turn into an undead. I’m surprised you know of the less than reputable method.”

“Yeah,” said he doing the dishes, “-my mentor taught me the basics of monster preparation. He said it’s the only worthwhile item he sought to master. The explosive nature of goblin flesh is beyond that of the highest-grade meat we have. The disgusting creatures don’t look appetizing, yet, inside resides a cesspool of undiscovered deliciousness.”

“Never tried then, besides, the shock effect of goblin meat won’t last. People prefer comfort and habitual, not uncommon and showiness. Granted, a skilled juggler might capture the crowd, still, the individual behind the mask can’t be related too, in that aspect, he’s alone at the top of his craft. Relatability, Igna, tis the way of the future.”

“You’re not wrong,” he cleaned his hands, “-time sure went by fast,” the sun bloomed over the horizon, “-shouldn’t you be heading home, mistress?”

“I forgot,” her black hair flowed as she ran down the hall, the miss was a little on the chubby side. In no way did it look unbecoming, rather, the chubbiness came from her training. Muscles that made her figure stand out even more.

.....

‘There she goes,’ thought he as she dashed out the window and sprinted towards the manor, ‘-the mistress is eccentric like her mother. Suppose it runs in the family.’ The window lifted to allow the cold morning air; ‘-this feels great.’ Tiredness gave into energy and confidence.

“Igna, why are you up so early in the morning?” yawned Madia in her pajamas, the hair was hidden by a bunny-styled beanie. The childishness of her clothes was ‘adorable’ for someone in her early twenties.

“Came to help out in the kitchen. The chefs aren’t here today, what’s the matter?”

“No,” said she coming to the window, “-they’ll be at the restaurant for a few more days,” she stood on her toes and stretched followed by a few sharp shakes of the head, “-we need to handle breakfast.”

“You can cook?”

“Don’t underestimate me,” she made for the baskets after a quick elbow to his stomach.

“Let me help.”

“Sure, I honestly don’t know much about breakfast. Why don’t you prepare something,” leaned with the elbow on the counter, tiredness hung as dark-circles. “Being lazy is unbefitting a maid,” said he scouring the fridge.

“Shut up,” sat on the wall-side table, “-I seriously wanted to sleep the day over. The chefs had to be absent today, such a pain.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Why not sleep in for today, I’ll have the meal readied.”

“Cool.” *click.*

‘No filters.’

The stove blasted without restraint; the aroma seeped into every room of the outhouse. Madia’s room wasn’t spared either, her stomach grumbled at the mere sniff. The laziness and fatigue couldn’t fight against the want of an empty stomach.

“You came back,” added he with a chuckle.

“Shut it, I ought to taste the meal before the main-family eats it. Who knows, there might be poison there,” the words didn’t reflect her emotions, the anxious tapping of the feet made it more than obvious.

“Here you are,” the steaming hot bowl arrived in full on the table.

*Sniff,* “-it wets the appetite. Isn’t this a bit too heavy for breakfast?”

“Try it, you’ll see.”

“Alright,” a bite exploded the youth of fresh ingredients, the vigor of the sharply flavored fruits balanced the overall dish. In appearance there were only fruits and vegetables with sliced meat at the side – a lunch dish at best. ‘-How can this be?’ comprehending the idea was a worthless endeavor.

“Peculiar isn’t it?” he laughed, “-I added the Blood of Goblin to the mix, it gives a push of explosiveness close to pepper.”

“Dungeon styled cooking?” she gulped, “-where did you get the ingredients?”

“At the Trader’s guild. I took some for personal use.”

‘He’s right,’ thought she, ‘-the dish is invigorating. The fatigue is gone, it can but put a smile on my face. This is the best breakfast I’ve had in a while.”

Soon a squad of butlers walked into the outhouse with menacing stares.

“Has breakfast been readied? The mistress has woken up,” voiced the older looking retainer.

‘More like never slept,’ thought Igna preparing another tray for the lady, “-yeah, it’s readied. You guys want to have some before heading out?”

“I appreciate the offer,” smiled the leader, “-our needs can be filled later.”

“Suit yourself,” the presentation differed from Madia’s meal, it looked more appetizing and warmer, “-return after delivering the meal, I’ve made more than enough for everyone.”

“Thank you for the sentiment,” nodded they.

“That’s old man Troz, the oldest retainer employed at the Lordon’s. Igna, take a seat. I’ll explain what you’ll be doing from today forth. Lady Yuki’s restaurant opens only at night. You’re welcome to find a part-time job until service hours. Her teaching is more of a handsfree approach.”

“What about the cooking staff at Loron?”

“They’re famed chefs around Rosespire, each one has a specialty that stands out amidst the crowd. Talent must be shared or so that’s what she says when her workers are rated highly by cooking magazine. I’ll honestly advise you to move into the capital and work, experience is better than theory. Learn from a local eatery or some high-class restaurant, it doesn’t matter.”

‘Do I have to move out again?’

“There’s the option of staying here and be a cook. Up to you, Igna,” gently patting his head, “-take time and reflect, the future is something to consider.”

‘Reflect,’ paused he at the idea of moving out, ‘-her service hours are late in the night. I’ll need to find a part-time job. I doubt I’ll be getting paid anytime soon. I keep moving from place to place. I like it...’ a subconscious grin lightened the mood, ‘-traveling is awesome.’

“Madia,” voiced he, “-I’m heading to the town square.”

“Right, good luck on the journey.”

‘The cycle is here,’ awesome.’ The man-powered vehicle dashed out the front entrance to blaze the streets leading to the center. Lordon’s mansion ignited with lady Yuki’s speech. She took a bite out of the breakfast made for the mistress to go onto a run of compliments about the texture. When asked who came up with the idea, Igna came to the mix. She quickly dashed to the outhouse in search of the boy.

“Madia, where’s my prodigy?” asked she strongly.

“Heading to the capital, didn’t you say he’s free to do whatever as long as he returns at night?”

“No, you misunderstand,” giving a facepalm, “-he’s free to do whatever in the premises of the mansion, not the streets.”

“Ma’am, don’t you think it best for him to nurture his own talent?”

“No, I don’t,” adamant on the issue, “-he used the Blood of Goblin. Dungeon style cooking is not something a rookie can learn. I’m going into town, have a car be readied.”

‘Can’t believe the distance between here and there,’ two hours and a half went by pedaling, ‘-good thing the phone shows short-cuts.’ He approached the town-square, ‘-a part-time job,’ thought he pushing the bicycle. ‘Isn’t there some eatery I can join?’ and so while going round the town-square, a particular road filled with students led further to the west. An arched banner had, ‘-Konda’s district,’ written above. Multiple stalls laid on the left-side with merchants while the right side held small shops with electronics and snacks. The students were gathered at the intersection.

“Come one come all, we’re recruiting for the Winter Festival. Beat our chef in a cooking battle and earn 100 Exa.” Two stalls were pitted against one another with one freed for a challenger. The chef in charge was broad with knives in both hands. “The public will be the judge, does no one want to fight?” a chalkboard showed 99 – 0. That big a winning streak was a show of the chef’s prowess.

“Excuse me,”

“Yes, boy with the cycle, can I help you with something?” asked the man in a colorful shirt.

“What happens if one beats the chef?”

“You win 100 Exa and have the option of working at Ota’s eatery.”

‘The crowd here sure is impressive,’ the students soon parted, “-I’d like to participate.”

“A challenger has come,” murmurs turned to annoying bickering.

“Boy, do you have the courage to fight me one on one?” voiced the chef with braided hair, “-do you?”

“Yeah,” said he casually resting the bike against a table, “-don’t mind if I do.”

The crowd only grew, few students made the connection to Medusa’s prodigy.

“The rules are simple – cook for everyone here. They’ll eat and announce their pick by placing the bowl into either stall.”

The cook-off began instantly. The chef stood menacingly and prepared food at a rapid pace. He served a classic of Hidros’s street food. The scent alone forced the crowd to shift to his side.

‘He has the advantage. Street-food needs to be quick and effective. The ingredients here aren’t enough to please so many people.’ The announcer and chef smirked; ‘-this is a scam. I’ll have to pay 100 Exa if they win.’

“What’s happening over there?” wondered a boy with white hair.

“Don’t know, let’s check,” returned a girl with black hair ending in brown. A pink teddy in her arms gave cause for questions by the passersby.

‘If I don’t come up with something, they’ll win without me having a chance. I’ve got fish...’ an idea flashed, ‘-nuggets.’ The limited options didn’t give room for much improvement, yet, the stall soon fired. ‘-I can make it better with this,’ the sleeves rolled. *Chop, chop, chop,* the sound of a knife against the wooden board had people curious. ‘-ready,’ it dropped into boiling oil, ‘-make sure it doesn’t burn,’ prepping with one hand and stirring with the other, the showmanship grew into anticipation.

“Isn’t that Medusa’s prodigy?” voiced one.

“Yeah, that’s the guy from the video,” more than half of the crowd grew to his side.

“Order is up,” the dishes flew out the stall without stop.

“Can I have two plates?” asked a girl holding a teddy.

“Sure,” he handed to then focus onto the others.

“Sister, please don’t tell me you’re going to eat a peasant’s food,” argued the boy.

“Shut up,” a singular bite had the interior melt, “-I want more.”

“Huh?” startled, “-sister, I remember you saying bad food isn’t worth our time. Why more?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “-i-it just melted, I ate it without realizing.” The fanatic behind the stall didn’t stop. He made a dipping sauce on the fly, the plates soon stacked in his favor. Hard as he tried, the opposing stall couldn’t compare to the explosion of Igna’s corner. ‘Scammers get scammed.’