Chương 84

The town square of Stormbreak turned into an absolute madhouse. Rudra's Protean Crafting Cauldron had shifted into a massive, multi-station kitchen. Four giant vats of water boiled furiously over roaring campfires. Sizzling flat-iron grills stretched across the dirt.

"Amelda, keep the wood coming!" Rudra shouted over the noise.

"Elysia, dump the clean water into vat number three!" He didn't stop moving. With his high Agility and Dexterity, his hands were a complete blur. He pulled the thick, freezing slabs of Morax's Demonic Ice-Core Meat out of his inventory. The legendary meat leaked a freezing fog that instantly coated his knuckles in frost. A normal player would have taken frostbite damage just holding it. Rudra just gripped his cooking knife tighter. He chopped the demon meat into tiny, bite-sized cubes.

He didn't want the citizens to explode from eating pure demonic energy, so he diluted it. He tossed the frozen cubes into the boiling vats along with wild mountain onions, sweet river-kelp, and a heavy dash of Epic Fire-Crystal Salt to neutralize the chill.

"Form a single line!" Kentrick roared, his massive voice echoing off the stone walls. The Vanguard knight effortlessly directed the crowd of 5, 000 starving people.

"No pushing! The Lord has plenty!" The citizens stepped up, holding cracked wooden bowls and rusted helmets. Rudra ladled the thick, glowing golden stew into their bowls. The moment the first militia spearman took a sip, his eyes went wide. The legendary meat hit his empty stomach like a furnace. A bright red aura flared around his skinny frame. The severe malnutrition debuff vanished from his status window. The internal bleeding in his chest completely healed.

"I... I don't hurt anymore," the spearman cried, dropping to his knees in the dirt.

"Keep the line moving!" Rudra yelled, already filling the next bowl.

"Eat it while it's hot!" He cooked for twenty-four hours straight. When the sun came up the next day, he was still standing over the grills. His white apron was stained with grease and soot. His bare hands were covered in minor burns and frostbite blisters. He ignored the pain settings entirely. When his stamina bar dropped into the red, he just shoved a piece of hot meat into his own mouth, chewed quickly, and kept chopping. Forty-eight hours passed. The Red Knights had to take shifts sleeping.

Even Commander Vane back at the capital would have collapsed from this kind of non-stop physical labor. But Rudra didn't sleep. He stood in the heat and the smoke, flipping meat and stirring massive pots of broth.

"My Liege," Elysia said softly, stepping up to the stove on the third night. She handed him a clean towel.

"You are bleeding. Let me take over for an hour."

"Can't," Rudra panted, wiping the sweat and soot off his forehead.

"You're an alchemist. You'll accidentally turn the soup into a bomb. Just keep handing me the salt." The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Seventy-two hours. Three full days. Rudra scraped the very last drop of stew out of the fourth vat and poured it into a little girl's wooden bowl. He dropped his heavy iron ladle. It clattered onto the cobblestones. Rudra fell backward, landing flat on his butt in the dirt.

He let out a long, ragged, incredibly happy breath. His arms felt like wet noodles. His inventory, which he had spent months filling with thousands of pounds of rare monster meat, was completely empty. A massive wall of golden system text flooded his vision. [The citizens of Stormbreak have been fully stabilized!] [Severe Malnutrition has been cured.] [All untreated injuries have been healed.] [You have pushed your culinary limits to the absolute brink through sheer, unbroken repetition!] [Advanced Cooking (Lv. 2) has leveled up to Lv. 3!] [Quest 'The Lord's Banquet' has been cleared!] [For performing a miraculous deed of salvation, your Divine Power increases by 100.] [Affinity with the citizens of Stormbreak has reached the maximum.] Rudra wiped his face and looked up. All 5, 000 citizens of Stormbreak were standing in the town square. They weren't cheering anymore. They were perfectly silent. Their faces were flushed with healthy color.

The soldiers stood tall, their muscles bulging with the residual energy of the Great Demon's meat. The one-armed man from the front gate stepped forward. He didn't say a word. He just dropped to one knee in the dirt and bowed his head. Behind him, 5, 000 people fell to their knees in perfect unison. It wasn't fear. It was absolute, unquestioning loyalty. A noble hadn't just come to collect taxes.

A man had walked into their ruined home, rolled up his sleeves, and bled over a hot stove for three days just to make sure they didn't go to bed hungry.

"We are yours, My Lord," the one-armed man swore fiercely. Rudra awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. He hated being worshipped.

"Yeah, great," Rudra said, pointing weakly at the massive empty pots.

"Just make sure you guys wash your bowls. I'm not doing the dishes." Kentrick let out a booming laugh. Singuled grinned, leaning against a stone wall. The Red Knights looked at Rudra with a new, profound level of respect. He wasn't just a strong kid anymore. He was a Lord who genuinely cared for his people. Rudra picked himself up off the dirt. He tapped the Protean Cauldron, shrinking it back down to a metal block, and shoved it into his empty inventory. He walked over to the Red Knights.

"Alright, everyone," Rudra said, stretching his sore back.

"The people are fed. Now we need to secure this place. Singuled, Kentrick, Amelda. You three are in charge of the militia. Train them up. Fix the watchtowers. Don't let the Empire or the monsters get over those walls."

"Leave it to us," Kentrick slammed a fist against his chest plate.

"Elysia," Rudra turned to the silver-haired knight.

"Help the blacksmiths repair their gear. Get the town running again." Elysia frowned slightly.

"You are leaving, My Liege?"

"I have to," Rudra said, pulling his black trench coat out of his inventory and slipping it on. He grabbed his Staff of the Fire Lord.

"I promised Princess Nerissa I would escort her to the ocean when the magical currents opened. We're out of time. I need to drop her off." He looked over at Winfred. The Red Sage was already leaning on a simple wooden walking stick, wearing a heavy travel cloak.

"Winfred, you're with me," Rudra said.

"I need a navigator for the coast."

"A wise choice," Winfred smiled calmly.

"The Red Sea is unforgiving. We will need proper routing." Rudra nodded. He looked down at his boots. Kratos, the half-gold, half-black divine beast, had grown to the size of a large dog. The cub let out a massive, sleepy burp that smelled faintly of demon meat and leaned happily against Rudra's leg.

"Keep the city in one piece," Rudra told his knights.

"I'll be back as soon as I finish dropping off the Princess." With his new city fed and guarded, Rudra, Winfred, and Nerissa walked out of the heavy iron gates, heading straight down the rocky path toward the crashing waves of the Red Sea.