Chương 106

The frontier town of Winston was loud, busy, and full of life. Rudra navigated the crowded cobblestone streets with ease. Piaro walked calmly beside him, entirely unbothered by the noisy merchants. Trotting right at Rudra's heels was Kratos. The half-gold, half-black divine beast sniffed at passing food stalls and let out happy little barks.

"Alright, the map says Khan's smithy is just down this road," Rudra said, pulling his black trench coat tight against a sudden gust of wind. He was eager to get his gear fixed. The Staff of the Fire Lord was practically hanging together by a single thread of bone, and his Obsidian Drake Leather Gloves were fraying badly. They turned the corner and stopped in front of a large, sturdy brick building. The sign above the door read 'Khan's Smithy'. Rudra pushed the heavy wooden doors open.

"Hello? Is the blacksmith in?" The smithy was warm, smelling of burning coal and hot iron. But the atmosphere inside was absolutely miserable. It felt like walking into a funeral. Sitting slumped over a cold anvil was Grid. The legendary blacksmith was wearing beginner clothes, his posture completely defeated. He was clutching a hammer limply in his hand, his head resting against the cold iron.

"She just wanted to use me," Grid whimpered softly, tears leaking from his eyes.

"I wore the trendy clothes... I made a reservation at the tuna restaurant... and she just made fun of me in the smoking room." Rudra blinked. He stopped in the doorway.

"Uh. Is this a bad time?" Grid didn't even look up. He just kept crying into the anvil.

"I have fifty-three thousand gold," Grid sobbed pathetically.

"I have permanent tax rights in Winston. I'm practically an Earl's son-in-law! I'm rich! So why do I still feel like a total loser?!" Rudra scratched the back of his neck. He looked at Piaro. The Great Swordsman crossed his arms, staring at the weeping blacksmith with a blank expression.

"His heart is clouded by a severe worldly attachment. He looks unsightly."

"He seems to have gotten his heart broken," Rudra corrected, recognizing the universal signs of a terrible date. Normally, Rudra avoided depressing situations like the plague. He hated heavy, awkward social drama. But he needed his staff fixed, and he couldn't just leave the guy crying over his anvil.

"Alright, back up," Rudra sighed, stepping fully into the smithy. He didn't offer a shoulder to cry on. He didn't ask Grid to talk about his feelings. He took the route he was familiar with. Thud. Rudra dropped the heavy Protean Crafting Cauldron right onto the stone floor of the smithy. He tapped the side of the metal. The cauldron hummed and seamlessly morphed into a wide, flat-iron grill and a bubbling stew pot. Grid finally lifted his tear-streaked face. He sniffled, looking at the player in the black coat.

"What... what are you doing?" This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"You look like you're starving," Rudra said flatly, pulling out his cooking knife.

"And nobody works on an empty stomach." Rudra reached into his inventory. He pulled out a massive, thick cut of premium mountain-boar belly, a handful of fresh wild onions, and a glowing pinch of his Epic Fire-Crystal Salt. He didn't ask for permission. He fired up the stove. The heavy block of butter hit the hot iron with a loud, aggressive sizzle. Rudra tossed the thick cuts of meat onto the grill. The rich, spicy aroma of searing fat and roasted garlic instantly filled the smoky air of the blacksmith shop.

Kratos sat down immediately, his tail thumping against the floorboards as he stared at the grill. Grid's stomach let out a violent, echoing rumble. He tried to ignore it, burying his face back in his arms.

"Food won't fix my broken heart. Women are terrifying. I'm never loving anyone again." Rudra rolled his eyes. As he flipped the meat, he engaged his Sage's Eye to perfectly monitor the mana flow in the ingredients. He didn't just cook the meat. He tapped into his Chef Who Touches the Soul title. He poured his own stubborn willpower into the pan. He channeled the simple, honest warmth of sitting around a campfire with reliable friends after a brutal fight. He focused entirely on the idea of genuine camaraderie.

A blinding, platinum light suddenly erupted from the grill. [You have successfully created 'Heart-Warming Boar Belly Stew'!] [Rating: Unique] [A masterpiece that carries the profound, unyielding warmth of a safe home and honest friendship. - Instantly clears all mental debuffs and abnormal psychological states. - Permanently increases Maximum Health by +100. - Satiety is fully restored.] [An unique-rated item was produced, so all stats have permanently risen by +12 and reputation throughout the continent has risen by +300.] Rudra plated the steaming, spicy stew in a thick wooden bowl. He walked over to the anvil and shoved the bowl directly into Grid's hands.

"Eat," Rudra ordered. Grid sniffled. He looked at the glowing, perfectly cooked meat. He hadn't eaten anything since logging in, and the smell was literally mouth-watering. He picked up a spoon with a trembling hand and took a bite. The moment the stew hit his tongue, the Empathic Cuisine passive triggered. Grid completely froze. The spoon slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor. He didn't just taste the spicy broth and the perfectly seared meat.

A massive, invisible wave of pure, unfiltered warmth crashed directly into his mind. The suffocating, humiliating memory of Ahyoung laughing at him in the rest room was violently shoved aside. Grid felt Rudra's honest, unyielding grit. He felt the simple, unbreakable bond of fighting side-by-side with someone you trust. The food conveyed a single, overwhelming emotion: You aren't a loser, and you aren't alone. Stand up. The dark, pathetic cloud of depression sitting in Grid's chest instantly evaporated.

Grid dropped to his knees. He grabbed the bowl with both hands and started eating frantically. He chewed and swallowed, but the tears streaming down his face weren't from sadness anymore. They were tears of pure, overwhelming relief. When Grid finished the very last drop of broth, he lowered the bowl. He wiped his face with the back of his armored sleeve. He looked up at Rudra. The pathetic, heartbroken aura was gone. His eyes were clear, and a new sense of fierce determination burned in them.

"That..." Grid rasped, his voice steady.

"That was the best thing I have ever eaten in my entire life."

"Thank you," Rudra grinned, leaning on his heavy, cracked staff.

"Feeling better?" Grid stood up. He looked at the anvil, then back at Rudra. The pain of the real world still existed, but it didn't control him anymore. He had gold. He had skills. And right now, he had a guy who just cooked him a miraculous meal for absolutely no reason.

"Yeah," Grid said, a genuine smile finally breaking across his face.

"I feel great." Rudra nodded. He set the cracked Staff of the Fire Lord onto the anvil.

"Good. Because I really need you to hit this with a hammer."