Name: Goblin Chef
Species[Level]: Goblin[84]
Class[Level]: Goblin/Peon[10], Goblin/Cook[10], Goblin/Chef[20], Chef/Baker[20], Sous Chef/Pastry[24]
Health: 120/120
Mana: 62/62
Stamina: 107/107
Titles:
Cannibal Monster
Skills:
Brawling IV Convincing II
Conniving IV Running III
Climbing Identify
Kitchen Magic IV Butchering II
Poison Mastery III Sword Mastery V
Baking II Goblin Spreading II
Knife III Meditation II
Kitchen Heat Resistance III
Pain Resistance Armor Proficiency II
Throwing II Devour
Hiding II
Spellcasting:
Create Cooking Fire Set Temperature
Stir Sharpen Knife
Wash Dishes Breadbox
Knead Summon Flavoring
Rise Summon Dairy
Summon Egg
Traits:
Gluttonous Loathsome
Garbageman Hardened Skin
Boons & Banes:
Exquisite Taste (F)
Goblin Confidence (C)
Light Synergy (B)
Attributes:
Power 40 Hutzpah 89
Gusto 85 Intestine 84
Alacrity 93 Waagh 0
Sense 61 Ability 72
Inexplicability: 36
Those are some big numbers right there.
He wasn’t wrong. While it had happened to him before, gaining more than a dozen levels at a time was highly unusual. What’s more, getting stats in the numbers he did was equally uncommon if not more so.
Turned out that having incredibly powerful digestion and a near limitless stomach had its perks. Not the least of which was feeling the impact of those massive stat gains.
I can still taste it…
By gaining such an enormous boost to his senses, which is to say his ability stat, Chef was able to clearly feel the improvements to his taste. His palette had grown sharper, his food memory clearer. This was what he had been looking for. This was his path.
I just need to kill and eat more powerful things. I can do that.
His path in life laid out for him, Chef went back to eating. Like usual, gaining a ton of levels had given him yet another culinary spell at his disposal. Of course, he’d have to experiment with it to determine its usefulness. After all…
Summon Egg: because one egg is enough. Perfect for all of your egg needs.
That description wasn’t any help at all. Using the spell and draining some mana revealed to him that it did in fact create exactly one egg. Now Chef was no stranger to this shelled item, in fact eggs were featured prominently in his early cooking attempts. After all, they were largely undefended, and he was once young and weak.
His attempts at cooking them had been atrocious back then. The goopy insides left him puzzled, and the results left him disgusted. But this was his chance. This was his opportunity for redemption.
He grabbed his pan and cracked the egg over it. Pieces of shell, yoke, and egg whites went everywhere.
“Right. I’m strong now.”
Fortunately, the mana cost was low enough that a minute of meditation between summons was more than enough for him to keep going indefinitely. It took more tries than Chef would me proud to admit before he got the whole cracking an egg thing down.
Not that he couldn’t just digest the shell. It probably wouldn’t even bother him with his big numbers, but it just didn’t sit right with him. He was a chef after all. He should be able to crack an egg properly.
The first thing he did after getting the technique down was to wash the leftover shells away with his potent magic. Then the experiments began anew. Cooking it by itself, tasting it raw, combining it with meat and other ingredients he had plenty of, why Chef tried everything he could think of. Feeling proud of himself and rather accomplished and full, he decided to go to sleep. It had been a fulfilling day between gaining a dozen levels and discovering that rabbit could actually be delicious. Not to mention he gained a whole new ingredient!
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
That was why he woke up in such high spirits the next morning. The constant meditation the day before gave him little need for sleep that night and his excitement for flour removed any vestiges of drowsiness that could have remained.
Today is the day. No monsters or other distractions! I can be delayed no longer! I’m coming for my flour!
With his armor on under his fur outfit, Chef headed to town.
----------------------------------------
The townspeople were shouting again as he exited the clearing. Was it suspicious? Obviously. But Chef didn’t need these people after today. If they did dumb things like try to kill him then he’d just repay them in kind. Only one person in this whole stupid town was of any value, and today that man would teach him the finer parts of bread making.
Chef was literally bouncing with excitement as he walked up to the mill. The father ran out to meet him shortly after he arrived and lead him inside, all while saying words that didn’t matter. He’d just get the man to show him how it worked. Why waste time listening?
There was a lot of wheat in here, that was for sure. Almost as much as there were words spewing from this man’s mouth. That was getting annoying.
Depending on the day and the topic, Chef would be more than happy to talk with Therace. Why, he intended to pick his brain in an hour or so after they made some flour. But that was just the thing. He’d listen to the man talk after he had uncovered the secret to the white powder. Not before. Not even at the same time. Chef had a goal, and he would not be delayed from it any longer.
“Show me how you make flour. Every step.”
The man had been mid-sentence when Chef spoke, but there were no signs of surprise or disappointment at his words. If anything, the father was happy to stop talking and get to work.
“Would you like me to start with how we harvest or start with what we have here?”
As the father gestured around the room, Chef considered the question seriously. On the one hand, he’d like to be able to do the whole thing from scratch. But on the other, he didn’t know how to farm. At all. So, if he had to start from harvesting the grain, he’d just be lost anyway. After all, he wouldn’t be able to grow the grain to reap it.
“Start with what is here.”
Therace nodded in response and got to work immediately. What surprised Chef was what “getting to work” looked like. He had noticed before that there were separate little areas in this room. There was a ladder going up to a secondary storage location, some sacks, some boxes, and other storage down on the ground floor, and obviously there was the mill itself. There was a lot going one which unfortunately meant a lot to learn as well.
He figured that the father would start some tedious process that would make Chef wish he had hair to tear out.
Instead, Therace walked over to a sack, shoved some reaped wheat into it, and immediately started smashing it into the brick floor.
“This is the easiest way to separate the chaff from the kernels. You could also beat it with a stick, but people sometimes tear the sack that way.”
As the sack continued to be ruthlessly brought down onto the unforgiving brick floor, a smile began to tug at Therace’s face.
“It’s also excellent stress relief.”
Chef believed him immediately. When the father felt satisfied, he opened the sack to show Chef the kernels separated from the chaff. Little hard pieces, which were what they wanted, in a sea of stems and soft shells that had broken off. It was an absolute mess of materials, most of which were garbage.
“This next part requires a basket or bucket and a windy day.”
The father dumped the sack’s contents into a nearby wicker basket before waking out of the mill. Chef followed closely as they walked some distance from the brick construct. And then, Therace started tossing the contents of the basket into the air as high as he could.
“The kernels are heavy so they fall straight down. But the chaff doesn’t. Light as it is, it floats away with the wind.”
It was a beautiful sight. kernels leapt from the basket, suspended in air before falling through a cloud of fluttering white only to land free and pure back into the basket. It only took a few minutes before Therace could show him the results. All the chaff was gone and only their kernels remained.
“Next, we dry it out which takes some time. We have a second level in the mill which is dry and warm from the sun. We lay these out there for a few days before milling.”
Chef, not in the mood for patience, decided to go back into the mill, see the state of these dried kernels, and then used magic to mimic aging in Therace’s basket.
“Or you can do that. Well then, I guess all that’s left is the grinding.”
This part was fortunately simple, but honestly the whole process was. There were two stones: one moved one didn’t. The turning stone had a feeder on top that the dried kernels were poured into. Then you’d grab the big stick connected to the top stone and turned it. With Chef’s strength it was effortless.
After a while, the flour would be ground up inside and fall out the slot at the bottom. A bucket or basket or sack or whatever could be used to collect the heavenly substance for future use.
It was all so easy. He didn’t have to iterate a dozen times like everything else these people had taught him, no. Just beat the wheat, toss it, dry it, and grind it. That was it.
If he had been able to figure out that incredibly simple concept, he wouldn’t have had to deal with these people in the first place. A sigh escaped his lips as he held the basket of flour he’d just made. He felt conflicted but knew just how to fix that.
“Now, show me all the ways to cook with this.”
The solution was always more food.