Chương 87: Not a Griddle. A Material Board.

A Material Board.

The aurora thinned with dawn. The green and blue that had filled the horizon all night now looked sunken beneath the ice. In their place, the previous night's battle remained sharp across the snow. Furrows from wyvern claws. Broken horns. Bloodstains. Scattered fur. Materials Kichan had laid out. The scene lay somewhere between a battlefield, a butcher's floor, and a workbench. Kichan dug a small bank of snow to block the wind, sat behind it, and brought the materials out one by one.

He separated the giant monster's shell into heat-retaining and heat-shedding layers. He split the dual-temperature stone thinly and kept only pieces with intact grain. Before grinding the dragon horn, he rubbed it once with the back of his hand to check the water-blue light within. The leader's horn still held cold light. Even half asleep, Riphiel tensed at the arrangement.

"You are making something again."

"Yeah."

"What this time?" Kichan thought for a moment and chose a familiar word first.

"A griddle." Argaon breathed out something like a laugh.

"It will not end there." Kichan looked over the materials and corrected himself.

"No. A material board." He did not need a surface that merely cooked. He needed a workbench where freshly gathered materials could rest without being ruined. Kichan laid shell fragments as a base and fitted two plates of dual-temperature stone above them. Watching the sequence reminded Riphiel of the storage-cave repair. These were not the movements of someone drawing a perfect magic circle. They belonged to someone building refrigerator partitions and cutting drains.

"Why are you placing the dragon-horn powder only in the middle?"

"It has to hold the light." Kichan never stopped moving.

"Heat spreads sideways. Cold sinks. Light floats. Without a groove in the middle, it mixes and escapes." Argaon watched with interest.

"Dragon alchemists do not describe it that way."

"Do they cook food that suits your taste?" Kichan mixed dragon-horn and wyvern-horn powder, then spread it like a thin line around the central groove. Valkyrie laid a fine water film over it. Kichan waited while the water cooled, then touched one drop of wyvern blood inside the channel with his nail. The blood remained in a long line instead of spreading. When he placed aurora snow above it, the light stayed quietly attached inside the groove.

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"Done." The small board had one side that held gentle heat and another that retained a cold current. The middle groove could briefly preserve materials that dispersed quickly, such as light or blood. Kichan pressed his palm against it and smiled.

"This should stop things from mixing and spoiling inside the bag." Riphiel peered at the board.

"That is closer to a portable storage bench than a griddle."

"That's why it's a material board." Dust saw the shining groove and tried to climb on. Kichan pushed it away with one finger.

"No. Every time you see something like this…" Dust reluctantly fell back. Valkyrie dropped a small bead of water over the groove instead. The droplet trembled without freezing or boiling. Then the saber-toothed tiger approached at the scent of wyvern meat. It had been interested in the meat since the previous night. Kichan looked first at its neck and chest. He remembered the leader diving. Until now, the saber-toothed tiger had been fast, large, and well armed with teeth. That had been enough.

Creatures from the sky were different. They went for the neck in an instant and had nearly torn open its flank. Kichan set aside the toughest part of the wyvern membrane and the thinnest part of the giant monster's shell.

"You need to wear something too." The saber-toothed tiger tilted its head. Riphiel's face brightened immediately.

"You are making armor for him?"

"It hurts when he gets hit too." Riphiel went silent for a moment. Kichan measured around the tiger's neck with his hands. The wing membrane would form the outer layer, while shell fragments guarded only the front of the neck and chest. Too much weight would interfere with running, so he kept the straps to a minimum. At first, the saber-toothed tiger pulled away in annoyance. Once Riphiel held its head and soothed it, it stood quietly. Valkyrie sent a thin layer of water through the straps to reduce friction.

Dust was caught three times trying to reach the glinting edges. The finished protection resembled a hard vest more than full armor. It covered the lower neck, front of the chest, and portions of both flanks without catching when the tiger ran or twisted. Kichan stepped back.

"Done. Run." The tiger made a short circuit through the snow. The straps stayed tied, and the chest plate barely moved. Riphiel looked almost moved.

"It suits him." Argaon commented,"Is that not extravagant for a beast?" Kichan checked the knots once more.

"It's cheaper than feeding you." Argaon went silent. Only after finishing the work did Kichan cut a little wyvern meat and place it on the material board. One side held low heat. The other remained cold. He set the edge of the meat against the warm side and ran one line of heavily diluted wyvern blood through the middle groove. The cold grain inside the flesh slowly loosened.

"Fried chicken needs oil." Kichan scraped a little hardened fat from beneath the wyvern's hide. It did not smell pleasant. Still, when he placed it on the warm side of the board, the white fat slowly melted. He mixed in salt and powdered hot seed, then rolled thin slices of wyvern meat through it. Riphiel asked wearily,"Is that fried chicken?"

"Something like it." The meat was not submerged in oil. Only the outside cooked quickly on the board. Perhaps because it had been soaked and struck by lightning, the surface became strangely crisp while the inside stayed moist. Kichan bit into one piece and narrowed his eyes.

"Not bad for a first try." Argaon held out a hand. Kichan gave him one piece, and Argaon accepted it with surprising restraint. His expression barely changed as he chewed. After swallowing, he held out his hand again.

"I told you no one eats it only once."

"Right?" The saber-toothed tiger wagged its tail at the smell, still wearing its new armor. Riphiel muttered,"Far too much has happened before we even reached the destination." Kichan answered,"We're here." The moment he said it, a gigantic shadow descended through the weakened aurora and lurched. At first, they thought it was another wyvern. But the wings were far rounder, and they carried feathers. A bird. An impossibly large white owl, its feathers blurring into the snow.

It beat its wings twice more, lost its strength, and fell directly into the field.