The road stretched long ahead, weaving through rolling fields and dense groves of trees. The caravan had settled into a steady rhythm, the wagons creaking under their heavy loads while merchants conversed in hushed tones, their eyes always scanning the tree line for trouble.
Kaito walked alongside Sylvia, his backpack weighing comfortably against his shoulders. The scent of damp earth and morning dew filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of the dried herbs he carried. He had spent most of the journey listening, absorbing information about Velin, Lysmar, and the world beyond.
He was still a stranger here, but food—food was universal.
As the sun climbed higher, the caravan came to a stop near a clearing, the leader—a burly man named Harken—announcing a short break before they continued toward Lysmar. Horses were unhitched, and a few guards spread out to keep watch while others took the chance to rest.
Kaito immediately recognized an opportunity.
He set his pack down and looked around for firewood. Garrek, the dwarf merchant from Velin, had provided him with a small supply, but he needed more to properly cook. He spotted a pile of dry branches near the tree line and made his way toward them.
Sylvia, who had been leaning against a wagon, watching him with mild curiosity, pushed off and followed.
"You're going to cook again?" she asked.
Kaito grinned. "I figured if I can feed a few people, maybe I can earn some coin. Fifty crowns isn't going to make itself."
She crossed her arms. "Fair enough. Just don't burn the place down."
Kaito chuckled, gathering the wood and carrying it back to the caravan. He set up a small fire pit, arranging the logs in a careful formation before striking a flint against steel. The first sparks crackled, then ignited the dry tinder, sending flickers of warmth into the cool air.
With practiced hands, he set up his small camping stove on a flat stone and pulled out the ingredients he had prepared earlier.
Kaito retrieved a slab of shade hare, a type of lean wild meat he had traded for in Velin. It was similar to rabbit but with a richer, deeper flavor. He sliced it into thin strips, taking care to cut against the grain to preserve tenderness.
Next, he reached for a bundle of whisperleaf herbs, crushing them lightly between his fingers before rubbing them onto the meat. They released a mild, citrusy aroma, their oils seeping into the flesh.
For seasoning, he used a small pouch of ember salt, a rare mineral he had obtained in the market. Unlike normal salt, ember salt had a slight smokiness to it, enhancing the depth of flavor in meats.
He set his cast-iron pan over the fire, pouring a small amount of drakefat oil into the surface. The oil shimmered with a faint golden hue, heating rapidly until it sizzled.
Carefully, he laid the strips of shade hare into the pan. A satisfying hiss filled the air as the meat touched the hot surface, the edges curling slightly as they cooked. Kaito let them sear undisturbed, ensuring a crisp crust formed before flipping them.
As the meat cooked, he worked on a side dish.
From his pack, he pulled out sky potatoes, a soft, pale tuber known for its fluffy texture when mashed. He peeled them quickly, cutting them into chunks and tossing them into a pot of simmering water.
For additional flavor, he added a handful of sunroot, a golden vegetable that imparted a faintly nutty sweetness. He let them soften before draining the water and mashing them with a wooden spoon, adding a dollop of drakefat for creaminess.
To complete the dish, he prepared a sauce using nightberry glaze, a deep purple reduction made from fermented berries. It had a tart yet subtly sweet flavor, perfect for balancing the richness of the meat. He let it simmer over the fire, thickening into a velvety consistency.
Finally, he plated the food, setting the seared shade hare atop a bed of sunroot mash, drizzling the nightberry glaze over the top. The contrast of colors—golden mash, dark purple glaze, and caramelized meat—was striking.
By now, several of the caravan members had gathered, drawn by the enticing aroma. Even some of the guards, usually reserved, had edged closer.
Kaito handed the first plate to Sylvia.
She took it without hesitation, using a small knife to cut into the meat. The shade hare was perfectly tender, the crust crisp and fragrant with whisperleaf and ember salt.
She took a bite.
The flavor burst across her tongue—smoky, slightly tangy from the glaze, and perfectly balanced by the smooth, buttery mash. The whisperleaf added a hint of citrus, cutting through the richness and leaving a refreshing aftertaste.
Sylvia chewed slowly, her expression unreadable. Then, finally, she exhaled.
"Damn," she murmured, setting her knife down.
Kaito smirked. "That a good 'damn' or a bad 'damn'?"
She met his eyes. "The kind that makes me wonder if I've been eating garbage my whole life."
A few of the onlookers chuckled. Garrek, who had appeared at some point, took a plate and grunted in approval as he ate.
"This… is something special," Harken, the caravan leader, said as he sampled a bite. He studied Kaito. "You planning to cook more of this when we reach Lysmar?"
"That's the idea," Kaito said.
Harken nodded thoughtfully. "There's a marketplace in Lysmar called the Amber District. Best place to set up shop if you want to make real coin. You should start there."
Kaito absorbed the information, grateful for the tip.
"Speaking of coin," a merchant chimed in. "How much for a plate?"
Kaito blinked. He hadn't even considered charging yet. He glanced at Sylvia, who smirked.
"First one's free," he said, "but after that… let's say two crowns a plate?"
To his surprise, the offer was met with nods of approval, and soon, more hands extended toward him, eager for a taste.
By the time the caravan was ready to move again, Kaito had made twelve crowns—nowhere near fifty, but a solid start. His heart swelled with pride.
As he packed up his gear, Sylvia nudged him lightly with her elbow. "Not bad for your first business venture," she said.
Kaito grinned. "And here I thought you didn't trust my cooking."
She shrugged. "I don't trust most people, but I trust good food."
The caravan resumed its journey, the road stretching endlessly before them. But now, Kaito felt different. He wasn't just wandering—he was moving toward something.
For the first time in his life, he had a goal, a purpose.
And he was just getting started.
As the caravan resumed its slow journey toward Lysmar, Kaito walked alongside Sylvia, the weight of his coin pouch heavier than it had been that morning. Twelve crowns. It wasn't a fortune, but it was proof. Proof that his cooking had value in this world, proof that he could carve out a place for himself here.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the road, and the sound of wagon wheels creaking over dirt filled the air. Kaito wiped his hands on a cloth, still buzzing with the high of serving his first paying customers.
"Feeling proud of yourself?" Sylvia asked, her tone neutral but her smirk betraying amusement.
Kaito shrugged. "A little. Feels good to actually earn something doing what I love."
She nodded. "Good. Just don't get comfortable. You got lucky today—people were hungry, and you gave them something they couldn't refuse. It won't always be that easy."
Kaito glanced at her. "You always this encouraging?"
"I'm practical," she said. "You're an unknown here. In Lysmar, you'll be competing with seasoned vendors, actual businesses. If you want to keep making money, you'll need more than good cooking."
He frowned. "Like what?"
She gestured at the caravan. "Reputation. Consistency. Connections. You're a traveler with no name, no background, and no trust built up. One good meal isn't enough to make people seek you out."
Kaito exhaled, knowing she was right. He had skill, but skill alone wouldn't carry him. He needed something more.
Sylvia studied him for a moment before continuing, "Lysmar is a trade hub. That means opportunity, but also competition. You need to figure out what makes you different—why people should eat your food instead of someone else's."
Kaito thought for a moment. What did he have that others didn't?
Back home, chefs had to innovate to stand out—new flavors, new techniques, unique experiences. Could he bring something from his world into this one? He had already used his spices and ingredients to create something unfamiliar yet delicious. But that was only a start.
His mind raced with possibilities. Fusion cuisine—blending ingredients from this world with his own techniques. Specialized dishes—comfort food that didn't exist here. He could create something entirely new.
"I'll figure it out," he said finally, more to himself than to her.
Sylvia nodded. "Good."
They traveled in silence for a while, the road stretching out before them. The trees lining the path had grown thicker, the air carrying a faint chill despite the afternoon sun.
Something felt… off.
Sylvia must have sensed it too, because her hand shifted toward the dagger at her belt. "Stay close," she murmured.
Kaito tensed. He scanned the surroundings, but there was nothing—just the forest, the road, and the occasional bird call.
Then, without warning, one of the guards at the front of the caravan raised his hand.
"Stop!"
The wagons halted. The air grew unnervingly still.
Kaito strained his ears, trying to figure out what was happening. Then, he heard it—a faint rustling in the underbrush. It wasn't the wind. It was too controlled, too measured.
Sylvia's jaw tightened. "Bandits."
The word sent a cold jolt through Kaito's spine. He knew nothing about fighting. If things went south, what could he even do?
A figure stepped out from the trees. A tall man in dark leathers, his face partially covered by a scarf, a curved blade hanging from his hip. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the caravan like a predator assessing its prey.
"Well, well," the man said, his voice smooth. "Travelers on their way to Lysmar. Always a profitable sight."
More figures emerged from the shadows of the trees—half a dozen at least. Armed, lean, and clearly experienced.
Harken, the caravan leader, stepped forward. "We have nothing for you," he said gruffly. "We're simple traders, carrying goods to Lysmar."
The bandit leader smirked. "Oh, I'm sure you are. And I'm sure we'll find plenty of simple goods worth taking."
Sylvia shifted beside Kaito, fingers resting lightly on the hilt of her dagger. She wasn't scared—if anything, she looked irritated.
Harken crossed his arms. "You know how this goes. You try to rob us, you might win. But it'll cost you. Guards won't make it easy."
The bandit leader sighed dramatically. "So stubborn. Fine. We'll just take a little toll—something to make our troubles worthwhile."
His eyes roamed over the caravan, then landed on Kaito.
Kaito felt his stomach drop.
"You, cook boy," the bandit leader said, grinning. "That food you made earlier? Smelled damn good. How about you cook us a meal instead? We'll call it even."
Kaito swallowed. The bandits were armed. If they refused, there would be a fight.
Harken was scowling, but he gave Kaito a look that said: It's your choice.
Sylvia's expression was unreadable.
Kaito took a deep breath.
"Fine," he said, forcing his voice to stay steady. "I'll cook."
The bandits led Kaito to a clearing off the road, keeping a close watch on him. Some of the caravan guards followed, weapons still ready, but neither side moved to attack.
Kaito set up his firepit, hands steady despite the tension in the air. He could feel the bandits watching him closely.
They wanted a meal? Fine. He would make them one.
He pulled out the last of his griffboar meat and sliced it into thick chunks, seasoning them with ember salt and whisperleaf. He let the fire grow hotter, placing a heavy pan over the flames until it was scorching.
The meat sizzled as it hit the surface, releasing a rich, smoky aroma.
As he cooked, Kaito listened. The bandits were rough, but they weren't desperate. This wasn't a last resort—it was just business to them.
That meant there was a chance to turn this situation around.
Once the meat had a perfect sear, he basted it with a glaze of nightberry reduction, letting the deep purple sauce caramelize against the heat. The smell grew intoxicating, the mixture of charred meat and sweet glaze filling the air.
Even the bandits looked affected, their postures relaxing as the scent washed over them.
Kaito plated the meat, setting it on fresh slices of dense, travel-worn bread. He handed the first plate to the bandit leader.
The man took a bite.
Silence fell over the clearing.
Then, the bandit let out a low chuckle. "Well, I'll be damned." He glanced at his men. "This might be the best thing I've eaten in months."
Kaito took his chance. "How about a deal?" he said, wiping his hands on his apron. "Instead of robbing us, how about I cook for you whenever we pass through? No violence, just food. A trade."
The bandit leader licked his fingers, considering.
Then, he grinned. "You've got guts, cook. Alright. Next time we cross paths, you'd better have something good waiting."
He gestured to his men. "Let's move."
And just like that, they vanished into the trees.
Kaito exhaled sharply.
Sylvia stepped up beside him, arms crossed. "You just negotiated with bandits. With food."
Kaito smirked, feeling the rush of adrenaline leave his body. "Told you. Cooking is more than just making meals."
She shook her head, but there was something like approval in her eyes.
As the caravan resumed its journey, Kaito knew one thing for sure.
This world had no idea what he was capable of yet.