Kaito awoke to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the wooden shutters of the small inn room. His body ached from the long hours of cooking the night before, but it was the good kind of ache—the one that came with accomplishment.
Stretching, he sat up, the weight of reality settling in. He had taken his first steps toward making a name for himself in Lysmar, but as Mira had warned him, success wouldn't come without its challenges.
A few gold coins and thirty-five crowns were a strong start, but they wouldn't be enough if he wanted to grow.
He needed more ingredients. More recipes. More strategy.
But first, he needed breakfast.
Kaito stepped out of the inn into the lively chaos of the Amber District. The city never truly slept—even in the early hours, vendors were setting up their stalls, preparing ingredients, and shouting their morning greetings across the market.
The scent of freshly baked bread, simmering broths, and sweet fruits filled the air. The early crowd was different from the night vendors—workers looking for quick meals before their day began, merchants dealing in produce and livestock, and wandering mages collecting alchemical components.
Kaito's stomach growled.
As he scanned the stalls, he spotted something interesting—a vendor selling roasted fennel bulbs, drizzled with honey and charred over open flames. He had always loved fennel for its subtle licorice-like sweetness, but in this world, the bulbs were larger, heartier, with a golden hue that suggested a different composition.
The vendor, a broad-shouldered woman with soot-stained gloves, caught him staring.
"First time seeing sun-fennel, traveler?" she asked, flipping one of the bulbs over the fire.
"Something like that," Kaito admitted. "How much?"
"Two crowns."
Kaito handed over the coins, taking a bite as he walked away.
The flavor was intense—sweet and smoky with a slightly nutty depth. He could already imagine pairing it with roasted meats, slicing it thin for salads, or even blending it into soups.
He took a deep breath.
Today was a day for experimentation.
Kaito headed to the market's ingredient vendors, determined to expand his arsenal.
Fresh Ingredients: He picked up shade hare meat, griffboar loin, and wild skyfish, an unfamiliar white fish with iridescent scales that shimmered in the sunlight. The vendor assured him its flesh was delicate yet packed with flavor, perfect for steaming or grilling.
Herbs & Spices: He grabbed smokewood bark, which released an aromatic, peppery smoke when burned, and a bundle of moon-thyme, a silvery herb with a faint lemon scent.
Staples: He bought a bag of sky flour, a jar of fermented emberfruit paste (which smelled like a cross between miso and aged balsamic vinegar), and a small vial of starfire oil, known for its high burning temperature and subtle nutty aftertaste.
After paying, he slung his heavy pack over his shoulders and made his way back to his stall.
But as he approached, he noticed something strange.
People were crowded near his stall, but they weren't customers. They were gathered around a different vendor—a nearby food stall that hadn't been nearly as popular the night before.
Curious, Kaito edged closer.
The vendor—a tall, bald man with a thick mustache—was handing out dumplings.
Kaito's dumplings.
Kaito's stomach tightened.
The dumplings weren't exactly like his—there were differences in folding technique, and the filling smelled slightly different—but the concept was too close to be a coincidence.
Someone had copied him.
Sylvia appeared at his side, arms crossed as she watched. "Well, that didn't take long."
Kaito exhaled slowly. "That's business, I guess."
The vendor noticed them watching and smirked. "Ah, the new kid. Heard you had a busy night. Thought I'd try my hand at something similar."
Kaito studied him. There was no malice in his voice, but there was an unmistakable air of challenge.
He could have been angry. Could have confronted the man.
But instead, he smiled.
"You're not bad," Kaito said casually, stepping forward. "But your dough is too thick, and you're overstuffing them. The filling balance is off."
The vendor blinked, then laughed heartily. "Bold, aren't you?"
"I take my food seriously," Kaito said.
The vendor extended a hand. "Name's Rogan. I've been cooking in the Amber District for three years. I don't mind competition, but don't think I'll go easy on you."
Kaito shook his hand firmly. "Wouldn't want you to."
They locked eyes—a silent agreement formed.
Sylvia, watching from the sidelines, smirked. "So, what's your move, chef?"
Kaito looked at his stall, then at the eager morning crowd, and a slow grin spread across his face.
"We step it up."
Kaito fired up his stove, his mind racing with ideas. If someone was copying his dumplings, he wouldn't fight them directly. He'd go beyond.
He unpacked his new ingredients and started prepping.
Dish #1: Ember-Grilled Skyfish with Moon-Thyme Butter
He filleted the skyfish, rubbing it with smokewood bark powder before grilling it over an open flame.
As it cooked, he melted drakefat butter with moon-thyme, creating a fragrant sauce to drizzle over the crisped fish.
He plated it with sun-fennel mash, the sweet and smoky flavors blending perfectly.
Dish #2: Griffboar Skewers with Fermented Emberfruit Glaze
He cubed the griffboar loin, marinated it in emberfruit paste, black pepper, and a touch of starfire oil.
After skewering, he seared them over an open flame, brushing them with extra glaze for a rich umami kick.
Dish #3: Fire-Pepper Dumplings with Citrus Drizzle
A new dumpling variation—spiced shade hare filling, fire-pepper flakes, and a hint of fermented citrus zest for contrast.
As the first plate hit the counter, the scent of smoky fish, caramelized glaze, and sizzling spices cut through the market air like a clarion call.
The effect was instantaneous.
People turned toward his stall, drawn in by the new aromas.
Even Rogan, the competing vendor, paused to glance over.
The game had changed.
Kaito wasn't just making food anymore.
He was making a statement.
And as the first bite reached his new customers' lips, he knew—
He had won this round.
But the battle for Lysmar's best food stall had only just begun.
The Amber District came alive once more, but this time, the focus was split.
The smell of charred embers, sizzling meat, and citrus-infused dumplings wrapped around Kaito's stall like a beacon, drawing eyes and noses alike. The moment his new dishes hit the counter, the tide shifted.
Where Rogan's dumplings had once stolen attention, now the crowd was torn—some hesitating mid-step, lured by the richer, more complex aromas spilling from Kaito's station.
He saw it in their faces—curiosity battling familiarity.
Then the first customer stepped forward.
"I'll take a plate of the grilled fish," said a man in a well-worn tunic, eyes locked on the golden-browned skyfish fillet glistening under its thyme butter drizzle.
Kaito nodded sharply, his hands already moving. The sizzle of fish meeting a hot pan was almost drowned out by the excited murmurs around him.
Then another voice called out.
"I'll take the skewers!"
Kaito's lips curled into a satisfied smirk.
Sylvia, standing to the side, arms crossed, smirked as well. "Well, well. Looks like you're pulling them back in."
Rogan, who had been watching silently, exhaled sharply and turned back to his own station. "Damn kid," he muttered before barking orders at his assistant.
But the moment had already shifted.
The competition was on.
Kaito worked at full speed, but this time, it wasn't just dumplings.
The skyfish fillet, grilled over smokewood bark, released a deep, peppery aroma. The buttery glaze of moon-thyme seeped into the crispy skin, giving it a perfect balance of crunch and tenderness.
The griffboar skewers, caramelized in their fermented emberfruit glaze, sizzled on the open flame, the thick umami-rich scent making people's mouths water before they even saw the dish.
And the dumplings—oh, the dumplings. They weren't just simple pockets of meat anymore. They were fire-pepper infused, the citrus drizzle cutting through the heat like a perfect contrast. Each bite lingered, the warmth creeping in slowly, addictively.
The first customer took a bite of the fish—and his eyes widened.
Kaito saw the exact moment it happened, the precise second when the food hit differently. The man chewed slowly, savoring.
Then, without a word, he dug into the sun-fennel mash, and his expression softened even further.
"This…" he murmured, shaking his head slightly. "I've never had anything like this."
Another gold coin hit the counter.
Kaito blinked. Gold. Again.
Then another plate was ordered. And another. Soon, his counter was filled with hungry hands passing down coin.
Sylvia took over handling payments, her usual air of detachment cracking as she struggled to keep up.
"Chef," she muttered under her breath, trying to keep track of all the orders. "You're going to run out of food."
Kaito laughed breathlessly, the rush thrilling.
"I'll deal with that problem when it happens."
Across the way, Rogan was grinding his teeth, his own stall still doing well, but losing ground.
He wasn't a fool. He had experience, a following—but Kaito had momentum.
Rogan wasn't about to let some newcomer walk all over him.
With a snap of his fingers, he pulled out a secret weapon—a thick, glossy spiced honey glaze.
Sylvia noticed it immediately and nudged Kaito. "Heads up. He's changing tactics."
Kaito glanced over just as Rogan dipped his own skewers into the honeyed reduction, letting the flame lick and caramelize the surface.
The smell was divine—sweet, smoky, slightly charred, the sugar in the glaze creating an intoxicating layer of crispness.
Customers turned toward Rogan's stall again, intrigued.
Kaito gritted his teeth.
He should have expected this—a real competitor wouldn't just sit back. Rogan was adjusting on the fly, throwing back a counterpunch.
Kaito's pulse quickened, but this wasn't fear—it was exhilaration.
This was what he lived for.
Fine. If Rogan wanted to raise the stakes—Kaito would take it a step further.
Without hesitation, Kaito grabbed his starfire oil.
He had planned to save it, but now was as good a time as any.
He poured a thin line over the griffboar skewers, and as he flipped them, the fire caught instantly—a burst of blue flame licking over the meat.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Whoa—what's that?"
"It's burning, but not burning?"
Kaito smirked as he controlled the flame, letting the starfire oil crisp the edges perfectly while sealing the juices inside.
Then, he took it a step further.
He grabbed a thin slice of skyfish, dipped it lightly in fermented emberfruit, and seared it on the bare flame, the heat licking across the surface in a flash-cooked glaze.
The result was unlike anything the crowd had ever seen.
The fish was tender, smoky, and had the most satisfying umami depth.
Then he plated it over the charred dumplings, drizzling it with an extra touch of nightberry glaze, creating a dish that was visually stunning and impossibly fragrant.
Sylvia arched an eyebrow. "You're showing off now."
Kaito just grinned. "Maybe."
The moment of truth came when the next wave of customers had to decide—Rogan's sweet, smoky skewers, or Kaito's starfire-seared specialty.
The first noble to approach—someone of obvious high status, wearing a velvet cloak with silver embroidery—stood at the crossroads between both stalls.
Rogan watched closely, as did Kaito.
Then, the noble stepped toward Kaito's stall.
He took a plate.
And after the first bite, he did something that sealed Kaito's victory—
He turned toward his companion and simply nodded.
That was all it took.
A chain reaction started. More nobles came. More high-paying customers stepped forward.
Rogan knew it was over.
For tonight, at least.
As the night wound down, the crowd finally thinning, Rogan walked over to Kaito's stall.
He didn't look angry. Just begrudgingly impressed.
"Not bad, kid," Rogan admitted. "You're better than I expected."
Kaito wiped sweat from his brow, still riding the adrenaline. "You too. That honey glaze was genius."
Rogan huffed a laugh. "Yeah, well. Competition makes us better."
He extended a hand.
Kaito shook it firmly.
Sylvia watched the exchange, arms still crossed. "So you're rivals now?"
Rogan smirked. "Oh, absolutely."
Kaito grinned. "Looking forward to it."
The battle for the Amber District's best food stall had just begun—and Kaito wouldn't lose easily.
Because he wasn't just cooking anymore.
He was fighting for a place in this world.