Time passed without Chef paying much attention to it. By the time he stood up, a light breeze had long since swept the purple fog from the village. He had things to do, not the least of which was honor his friend’s death.
The word was one Chef felt uncomfortable with. There was no equivalent in goblin. In fact, the closest thing they had directly translated to ‘goblin that dies for you.’ That also happened to be their word for subordinate.
But Chef wasn’t thinking about any of these things. Instead, he walked over to where the fog was, grabbed his knife off the ground, and walked over to the unconscious invaders. Heating and sharpening the blade to a dangerous degree, Chef aggressively plunged the weapon into the first one.
They wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t necessity that drove the animalistic assault of the two invaders.
*Ping*
Congratulations! You have killed someone!
Congratulations! You have killed someone!
Congratulations! You have acquired the Mass Murderer title!
Congratulations! You have killed over a hundred people in a single day! You’re a real killing machine!
Congratulations! You have acquired the Heathen title!
Congratulations! You have denied the faithful and spurned the gods! All who believe in something greater than themselves will see you as their enemy!
Congratulations! You have gained access to additional Class Evolutions!
Only after the second of them lay bloody and ruined on the ground, much of the meat ruined by the brutality of the attack, did Chef finally calm down. With calm came a deep and profound emptiness that threatened to envelope his entire being.
But Chef was a chef first and foremost. If someone was feeling empty, then he’d just fill them up. That’s what cooks do. That’s what Therace would do.
“Therace.”
He says the name slowly, tasting it as it exits his mouth. He’d avoided speaking the names of humans even when talking to them. He’d reference them however he felt like at the time, ignoring that rule for the small one out of deference to its status. But for everyone else, a rude nickname was more than enough for them. They weren’t worth anything better.
“Therace.”
Apparently, something had changed.
He washed the blade as he walked back to the perfectly kept corpse. All of the knowledge the man once had was gone now. A clever mind and techniques that could have changed the world had been snuffed out forever in a moment of blind violence.
They engaged me in the town. Which of us is the real monster, huh?
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The emptiness made it difficult to give voice to his thoughts as he looked over at the soldier he had burned. It didn’t matter. They would feed his growth, improve his stats, and give him new power. With enough of it, perhaps he’d have been able to stop this.
A sigh escaped his lips. This wouldn’t do and he knew it. The culture of humans was largely unknown to him even after all of his exposure to them. Most of that was intentional due to their inferiority to goblin kind, but that left him with a unique task.
For a goblin, honoring the dead could only mean one thing. The lone survivor had both the burden and the ability to ensure that any skills and abilities that a goblin had could transcend death itself.
So long as they were eaten.
For the first time in his entire life, the concept of eating something left him feeling cold. It wasn’t fear that drove him or even disgust. No, his life hadn’t been filled with fond enough memories to avoid such feelings in overwhelming numbers already.
And yet, he dreaded having to do it. The very idea felt wrong to him, as if his friend would be better served unserved. Laughable really. Any proper goblin would mock him endlessly. Even pathetic goblins like Kek would have shouted obscenities about this coward were he alive to witness it.
Chef continued to feel empty, so he filled himself with work.
The father had some ideas that he’d never gotten to try out with him, so this was his chance. He went to Therace’s kitchen and grabbed a pot, filling it with cream and milk. His first attempt was to just stir the crap out of it while heating it slowly. That didn’t work at all. After that, he went for the opposite, stirring the mixture and then cooling it. Different result, maybe not awful, but still wrong. He tried out some more combinations of milk and cream, some more amounts of stirring, and even different degrees of heating or cooling.
After two hours, a shout filled the kitchen as a metal pot flew through a wooden wall. Chef slumped onto the brick floor, dozens of failed attempts at butter all around him. He couldn’t do it. Not without Therace. Not by himself.
Anger left quickly as the emptiness threatened to return. He had to get back to work.
First was the butchering. A process that he’d long since mastered that left him feeling pained and at loss for the first time.
Next was the preparation. Meat was seared, bones began being melted, and the oven was supplied.
Then came the dough. There was a cauldron around here somewhere. Oh, a sack of flour as well. That and his magic should be all he needed to give Therace the best sendoff he knew of.
Meanwhile, Chef went to the man’s house and raided the kitchen. There he found something that brought another tear to his eye. The father still had some of the cheese they’d made together.
Perhaps it was overly sentimental. Perhaps it was more delusional on his part that it meant anything more than the leftover food that it was. In fact, were Therace here to see it, he’d likely consider this a waste of good ingredients. Chef didn’t care.
He added cheese and milk and cream to the mixture along with honey. He used the best oil he could find for the meat and vegetables. He continued to boil down the bones at record speed, using magic to accelerate the process through incredible heats and while using Raise to crack them to pieces. He’d do the father proud. His skills, at least, would live on.
It all came together before he knew it, and truthfully Chef had no idea how it tasted. No matter how much honey he added, all he could taste was salt.
It was just so bitter.
*Ping*
Congratulations! You have digested an entire Cook/Advanced[27]! You have gained some of its stats and abilities.
Congratulations! You have gained intestine!
Congratulations! You have learned Cooking!
Congratulations! Your Cooking has combined with Kitchen Magic!
Congratulations! Your Kitchen Magic has increased!
Congratulations! You have learned Conniving!
Congratulations! Your Conniving has combined with Conniving!
Congratulations! Your Conniving has increased!
Congratulations! You have learned Convincing!
Congratulations! Your Convincing has combined with Convincing!
Congratulations! Your Convincing has increased!
Chef sat there for a while longer until the sun began to set and his stomach’s protests became too loud to think properly.
What a bitter meal.