Catty sat alone at the wide wooden table, her back straight, eyes forward. She felt so small in the bright kitchen that buzzed around her. Flames flickered under a massive cauldron, and steam curled up from boiling pots. The room was filled with the clang of utensils.

The guards and chef stood nearby, watching her every move. They didn't bother hiding their smirks. Catty felt their eyes on her but didn't intend to respond to their jeers.

"Enjoy your meal," the chief said, voice dripping with mock politeness.

The dishes were arranged in a perfect circle on the table before her. The chef lifted the lid from the first dish.

It was burning on the plate. Bright red peppers, sliced lengthwise, still sizzled as flames ran along it. The heat radiated off the dish, stinging Catty's eyes and nose. She hesitated, then picked up the knife, cutting off a small piece. The searing scent made her throat tighten.

The girl lifted the bite to her mouth and placed it on her tongue. It was like biting an ember—her mouth exploded! Catty clenched her jaw and forced herself to chew, fighting against the urge to spit it out.

"Feeling the heat, little girl?" one of the guards sneered.

Catty swallowed hard, her throat ablaze. Her eyes watered, but the girl blinked away the tears and fixed the guard with a steady gaze. One thought burned in her mind, 'Die!'

The chef moved to the next plate and carefully lifted the lid, revealing a large conch shell filled with a thick liquid. Dark green seaweed floated lazily on the surface, swirling slowly in the pale broth. The smell hit Catty like a surf—briny seawater left to rot under the sun. She wrinkled her nose but didn't let herself hesitate.

Slowly, the girl picked up the spoon and dipped it into the conch. She brought it to her lips and took a cautious sip. The taste was revolting. Her stomach churned, and she had to clamp down on the urge to spit.

"Is the plate too deep for you?" a guard sneered.

Catty swallowed and forced a weak smile. Without breaking eye contact, she dipped the spoon back into the conch and took another sip. The bitterness spread through her mouth, and her throat tightened, but she forced herself to keep it down. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

The chef didn't bother hiding his grin as he lifted the lid of the third plate. A cloud of grey steam billowed up, swirling momentarily before fading into nothingness. There was no food—just a foul-smelling vapor that wafted over Catty's face. She recoiled, her nose wrinkling as the stench hit her like a blow. It was the smell of something decaying, a scent that clung to her throat.

The girl fought not to gag as the awful taste coated her mouth.

"What's the matter? This is my signature dish! Too rich for you?" the chef jeered.

Catty straightened and forced a dramatic sigh, tilting her head back as if savoring the sensation. "Delicious," she said flatly, smiling at them.

The guards burst into laughter, but Catty kept her face calm, refusing to let them see any weakness.

The final dish—a pile of rough lumps sat on the plate, their surfaces gritty. They looked more like a collection of pebbles than food. Catty picked up her fork and tapped one cautiously. It made a dull clinking sound, like striking stone.

The girl tried to stab one of the larger pieces. The texture was hard, and she took it with her hand. Catty bit down—and immediately regretted it. Pain shot through her jaw as if she'd tried to chew through a rock.

"Maybe you need a dragon's teeth to handle that!" There was laughter behind her back.

Catty spat the piece back onto the plate, glaring at people around her defiantly. She rubbed her aching jaw and turned around.

"Guess you'll have to lend me yours soon," the girl shot back, clenching her fists under the table.

"Such a shame! Looks like she's not enjoying the Master's hospitality!"

Catty stared at the plates before her, resisting the urge to sweep them off the table. Her jaw ached, her stomach twisted, but the girl wouldn't break—not in front of them.

The chief guard strolled closer, his boots clicking firmly on the stone floor. He circled the table, finally stopping beside Catty. The man leaned down, eyes gleaming with gloat as he looked at her.

"Well, little girl?" he said, voice low and dripping with mockery. "Are you full?"

Catty didn't answer but forced herself to take a deep breath. 'I'll wipe that smug look off your face,' she thought, keeping her expression cold.

"You know, girl, you've got some nerve sitting there like you're dining at a royal banquet," the chief guard continued, shaking his head. "Do you even realize where you are?"

Catty looked up, wiping her mouth slowly. "Yeah, a five-star dungeon, right?"

"You're sitting in a spot soaked with the blood of legends, and all you can think about is your stomach?!"

"Yeah, well," Catty said, "I've had better slop."

The man leaned in, his breath hot on her face. "You don't get it, do you? You'll be staying here tonight. And guess what? You're cleaning this kitchen. That's your payment for this… wonderful treat."

Catty's expression tightened, but she didn't flinch. "You want me to scrub all damn pans now?"

"Exactly," the chief guard straightened, still looking down at her. "And maybe, while scrubbing, you'll appreciate just what kind of place you're in."

He spread his arms wide. "This is the Dragon Sect enclave!"

The man turned away, and Catty clenched her fists under the table. Appreciate this place?!

The guards laughed and left the kitchen, their mocking remarks echoing in the corridor. The chief guard gave Catty a final sneer before stepping out. The kitchen door swung shut behind them.

The chef lingered for a moment, his gaze sharp and calculating. He glanced at a young cook standing by the door—a boy with a thin frame and wide eyes.

"Keep an eye on her," the chef ordered, his tone curt. "And make sure she doesn't try anything stupid."

"Yes, sir," the boy stammered, nodding quickly. The chef gave one last look around the kitchen before leaving with the other cooks.

Silence settled over the room. The only sound was the soft crackling of the hearth and the boy's uneasy shuffle against the stone floor. Catty remained seated at the table, watching him carefully.

The young cook stood by the door, fidgeting with the hem of his apron. He couldn't seem to meet Catty's gaze, his eyes darting around the room. With his tousled hair and hunched shoulders, he looked like he wanted to melt into the stone walls.

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"Calm down!" Catty snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. The boy flinched, looking up in surprise.

"Come here," she said, her tone softer. "Sit down."

He blinked, hesitating. After a moment, he shuffled forward slowly, keeping his eyes on her as if expecting her to lash out. Catty gestured to the empty seat at the table, and he finally slid onto it, sitting stiffly on the edge.

"What is your name? I'm Catty," she said, leaning back in her chair.

The boy shifted awkwardly, rubbing his hands together. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then blurted out, "Are you… really going to clean all of this?"

"Not planning on it," Catty said flatly.

He let out a nervous laugh, then scratched the back of his head, clearly uncertain what to say next. Finally, he leaned in a little, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I'm Landom," he hesitated, then leaned closer, eyes darting nervously. "So… what are you planning?" He anxiously glanced around as if checking to see if anyone else was listening.

Catty tilted her head, studying him. "Why are you so jumpy?" she asked lightly.

Landom flushed, looking down. "I, uh… I'm not supposed to talk to… guests."

"Guests?" Catty raised an eyebrow. "That what they call captives here?"

"Er, well, you know… " Landom muttered, fiddling with his apron again. He seemed to find his courage then, glancing up at her. "So if you're not planning to clean, what's your plan?"

"I'm not sure yet," Catty admitted. "But I don't think I'll be scrubbing pots anytime soon." She leaned forward a little. "What about you? Been working here long?"

"Me? Uh, yeah. Sort of." He shifted in his seat. "I've been here since… well, forever, really. My dad's a guard. Got me this job when I was big enough to carry a pot."

"Sounds exciting," Catty said dryly.

Landom snorted softly. "Exciting? Not really. Just… the same thing every day." He shrugged. "But at least I'm not out there, y'know? They say the rest of the enclave is… dangerous."

Catty glanced around. "Yeah? So what's so special about this place, then? Why keep you in the kitchen?"

Landom's fingers stilled on his apron. He blinked at her, then frowned thoughtfully. "Dunno," he admitted slowly, "but my dad always says this kitchen's the safest spot in the whole place. Says it's ‘cause it's… at the center of everything." He scratched his chin, then added awkwardly, "I guess they trust me not to mess it up."

"The center of everything?" Catty repeated. She gave a casual shrug, but her gaze sharpened. "Why?"

Landom hesitated, looking uneasy. "I… I mean… people say a lot of stuff, you know? Like, stories." He shifted in his seat again. "They say this place was built over… something big. A battle or something."

Catty leaned back slightly, overseeing him. "A battle?" she prompted.

"Yeah." Landom's voice lowered unconsciously. "A really, really old one. Like a war between light and darkness. But that's just… I mean, it's probably just nonsense, right?"

Catty stayed silent for a moment, then shrugged casually. "No," she said finally. "It's not nonsense. It's history."

Landom blinked, taken aback. "You… believe that stuff?" He looked almost relieved. "I mean, I always thought it was just a story."

"Who knows," Catty said lightly, tilting her head. "Why would they build a kitchen here if it's so special?"

Landom scratched his head. "Dunno. Everything here means something. Even the stuff they cook…" He trailed off, glancing hesitantly at the plates on the table. "Like, uh, what you ate. That's not normal food. It's the Elemental Challenge set."

Her eyebrows raised. "Elemental Challenge?"

"Yeah, didn't they tell you?" He pointed to the dishes. "Each one's supposed to represent an element. Like, the first one—those burning peppers? That's Fire. The next, the salty stuff in the shell, was Water. Then the empty plate with the stinking vapor? Air. And the last… the hard vegetables cooked into pebbles? Earth."

The young cook shrugged awkwardly. "It's called the Elemental Challenge set. A kind of… test, I guess. Like, to see if you can handle it."

Catty's gaze lingered on the plates, then on the boy, her mind racing. Fire… Water… Air… Earth. It all sounded too familiar. She stared at the dishes again, assessing their contents.

"You said they're supposed to represent the elements," the girl said. "But why serve them this way? What's the point?"

Landom shrugged, clearly out of his depth. "Beats me. Uh, they always say the challenge has a purpose. Something about testing strength…"

"Testing strength," Catty repeated softly. Her eyes narrowed as she glanced around the kitchen, considering. "And… why those four elements?"

"That's just how it's always been," Landom said hesitantly. "They say the four elements guard… something. It's part of the old stories."

Catty's gaze drifted back to the plates. Guard something… Four guardians… Suddenly, the riddle's words surfaced in her mind: ‘Four guardians hold the key, standing tall…' Her fingers tapped on the table. If the dishes represented elements…

And then she slammed her palm on the table. The boy jumped up in his chair.

"Four guardians hold the key, standing tall,

Round the circle, they await the dragon's call," Catty recited the riddle.

Landom looked more confused than ever as he listened to Catty mumble when the pieces clicked together in her mind.

"South breathes fire, fierce and free,

West weaves water deep as the sea,

East commands winds that heed no wall,

North bears earth, where secrets fall."

The girl spoke loudly, finishing.

"In their midst lies the heart, unseen,

Beneath the stone, where time has been!"

She glanced around the kitchen, then back at Landom. "And the center?" she asked slowly. "What's at the center?"

Landom looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Fire, Water, Air, Earth," she said softly, gesturing to the plates. "What's in the middle?"

The boy perked up, his expression clearing. "Ah, I got it! Here in the kitchen, the center is the hearth."

Catty slowly got up from the table and headed towards the hearth.

It was large, stretching almost to the ceiling, and made of rough-hewn stones fitted together. The surface was darkened by centuries of smoke. A few embers glowed faintly in the grate below. Heavy iron tools—an old poker and a long-handled ladle — leaned against the wall as witnesses of countless fires stoked within the hearth belly.

"We gotta check it!" Catty said.

"What to check?" Landom was surprised.

The girl crouched down, running her fingers along the rough stones at the base. "We need to take these out."

Landom's eyes widened. "Take them out? Are you crazy?" He took a step back, shaking his head. "If they catch us..."

"They won't," Catty interrupted, her voice firm. "Just help me."

"No way." He crossed his arms, staring at her like she'd lost her mind. "I... I can't. I'm not getting in trouble for this."

Catty shot him an exasperated look but didn't stop. She dug her nails into a crack between two stones, gritting her teeth as she tried to wiggle one loose.

Her bracelet clinked softly against the stone the girl tried to unfix with her hands.

A sudden burst of light illuminated the kitchen, bathing it in a shimmering glow. Catty froze, staring as a rush of warmth shot through her arm, spreading like fire beneath her skin. The bracelet pulsed, casting patterns of light that danced over the rough stones. The heat intensified with every beat, making the air around Catty shake as if reality was bending to its power.

Landom gasped, taking a step back. "What is that?"

"It's our Ace of Trumps!" Catty exclaimed as the glow reflected on her face, turning her eyes a fiery gold. "We're close, I know! I can find it here!"

Landom swallowed hard, torn between fear and curiosity. His gaze shifted between her face and the bracelet, its light reflecting in his eyes. "What… what are you trying to find?"

"What they're hiding here," Catty said angrily. "Damn, are you gonna help me or what?"

For a moment, Landom just stood there. Then, slowly, he took a deep breath and stepped forward. "Okay. Just... just tell me what to do."

"Take up the poker!"

Landom's hands shook as he picked up the heavy poker.

Catty pointed to the iron grate and the faintly glowing embers within. "We need to remove that first. Lift it off, and be careful."

Landom nodded nervously. Together, they heaved the heavy iron grate to the side, the embers spilling and scattering. A few sparks hissed as they hit the stone floor.

Catty swept the embers away with the long-handled ladle, clearing the base, then cold ashes.

"Wedge it here," Catty directed, pointing to a narrow gap between two stones.

The boy hesitated, then shoved the poker into the crack. The metal scraped against the stone with a grating sound. He strained, leaning his weight into it. Slowly, the stone shifted.

"Keep going," Catty urged, her fingers digging into the other side. Together, they tried to pry the heavy stone free.

Sweat beaded on Landom's forehead. "It's stuck," he muttered, struggling for breath.

"Just one more push," Catty gritted out. With a final heave, the stone came loose, dropping with a dull thud.

They moved quickly now, working side by side to pull out the remaining stones one by one. Each piece gave way grudgingly, firmly held by ancient mortar. Dust hung in the air as they finally freed up the entire base, removing the last of the stones.

They both froze, staring at the exposed base of the hearth. It was a large, flat slab, its surface smooth and unbroken.

Catty's heart pounded. "This is it!"

Landom looked at her, wide-eyed. "What… what do we do now?"

Catty didn't answer. She reached out slowly, resting her hand on the warm stone. The bracelet flared brighter as the base slab pulsed under her palm. The warmth spread through her arm, racing up to her heart—a powerful, thrumming energy that synced with her heartbeat.

The vibration grew, responding to the bracelet's glow. The light twisted and curled, wrapping around the girl's fingers in the flame of shimmering gold. Her entire body tingled, and her hand stuck to the stone.

"Move it," Catty breathed.

But as Landom lifted the poker to pry the slab, the stone suddenly shuddered. The light from the bracelet flared like a thunderbolt, flooding the kitchen with a blinding glow. The stone vibrated violently and...

CRACK!

Catty and Landom staggered back as the slab split, fissures racing across its surface.