Chapter 98: Chapter 98: The Stonehelm Bakery
Chapter 98: The Stonehelm Bakery
The civilian sector of Bastion Seven felt like a completely different world compared to the pristine glass spires of the Vanguard Academy. Down here, the streets were narrow and packed with people. Neon signs flickered over rusted metal awnings.
The air smelled of grilled meat, exhaust fumes, and the loud chatter of regular citizens going about their lives. To these unawakened folks, Vanguard Knights were mythical figures who lived behind giant walls and fought nightmares.
At the corner of 4th and Elm stood a modest brick shop. A wooden sign hung over the door reading ’Stonehelm Ovens’.
The bell chimed loudly as the five members of Strike Team Zero stepped inside. The bakery was currently trapped in a chaotic blizzard of white flour. Wooden tables groaned under the weight of unbaked trays.
Two middle-aged people were frantically running between the prep stations. They looked like they were on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.
"Mom. Dad. I brought backup," Bram announced. His massive frame filled the doorway.
Mr. Stonehelm wiped his sweaty forehead with a towel and looked up. His tired eyes immediately locked onto the tall boy standing next to his son. He noticed the immaculate dark Vanguard uniform and those piercing golden eyes.
Mr. Stonehelm dropped his towel on the floor. His wife gasped and covered her mouth with floury hands.
"By the Gods," Mr. Stonehelm breathed. His eyes went wide with absolute shock.
"The Red Lion. You... you are Captain Logcheville. The hero from the news broadcasts!"
For the common people of the Bastion, seeing a High Noble in the civilian sector was a monumental event. Recognizing the prodigy who had just held the line against a Beast Wave was enough to make their knees buckle.
Mr. Stonehelm immediately scrambled forward. He dropped to one knee and started to bow deeply. His wife hurriedly tried to dust the flour off her apron to do the same.
"My Lord! To have a High Noble grace our humble shop... we are incredibly honored. But this place is entirely unfit for someone of your station."
"Please, sir, stand up," Aegon interrupted softly. His voice was respectful and incredibly gentle. He stepped forward quickly and caught the baker by the shoulders to stop the bow.
Aegon offered a warm and genuinely humble smile.
"There is no need for bowing down Mr. Stonehelm. We are just here to help our friend. Please, you are our elder and our friend’s father. It does not sit right with me to see you bow to us.Just treat me like your own son."
"Haha! Alright then! Bram’s friends are always welcome to the Stonehelm Bakers." he rejoiced as he got up.
"And from what I hear, you are a little short on hands."
Aegon casually unbuttoned his expensive Vanguard coat and tossed it onto a nearby wooden chair. "Where do you keep the spare aprons?"
The baker and his wife stared in disbelief. The prodigy of Bastion Seven was actually tying a stained linen apron around his waist. it was like seeing a King wear the rags of the beggar.
"Well," Draven chuckled. He stepped up beside Aegon and rolled up his sleeves.
"Let’s get to work. Two thousand pastries will not bake themselves."
---
What happened next was a bizarre clash of high-tier combat magic and normal everyday chores.
In the Academy, the students were taught magic for the sole purpose of killing the Monsters. They did not have the experience of using the magic for the daily chores as they did not specialize in it nor anyone in the World had though of using magic for common chores.
But here in the warm air of the Stonehelm Bakery, the squad repurposed their lethal S-Rank potentials for the art of cooking. It bridged the massive gap between the awakened elite and the normal world.
’This is also a form of training for them. Cooking is an art in itself, which cannot allow mistakes. A slight mistake can make the whole food taste bad. But these guys were using their magical powers to make the food! Seems simple, right? Wrong!!’ Draven thought as he watched the Squad use their magic very carefully.
’The reason people in this world never thought of using magic on the small scale was not due to it not being possible, but using magic for cooking felt like using a chainsaw for cutting carrots. So precision is the most important thing here! If they mess up the flow of mana even by digit margin, then Boom!’
Aegon was assigned to the heavy brick wall ovens. Normally, Mr. Stonehelm had to shovel loads of coal and constantly vent the chimneys to keep the temperature even. Aegon simply sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the open hearth.
He closed his eyes and activated his Blood Fire. He fed mana directly into the bricks saving fuel for the Bakery.
Aegon thought to himself, ’What am I now? A bloody Heater? Why did Draven assign this job to me anyway?’
A soft crimson glow illuminated the bakery. Aegon became a deeply focused oven master.
He tethered his legendary combat fire to gently regulate the internal temperature to the exact degree required for sweet-breads.
It was a beautiful sight. A destructive force was being used to nurture and provide.
"The heat is perfectly distributed," Mr. Stonehelm muttered. He stared at the glowing oven in sheer awe.
"A perfectly even bake. It is incredible."
Over at the central prep table, things were much more explosive.
"I can do this. It is just chemistry," Estella muttered fiercely. She glared down at a massive bowl of dry flour, water, and yeast.
"If I apply a micro-burst of Star Magic to rapidly activate the yeast cells..."
"Estella wait. Do not use raw mana on dry powder." Draven started to warn her.
FWOOSH!
A pulse of volatile silver star-mana erupted from Estella’s hands. The bowl violently launched its contents into the air.
It created a massive expanding cloud of white flour that was about to coat the entire kitchen, the ceiling, and Bram’s parents.
Draven sighed and his pitch-black eyes flashed.
[Skill Activated: Vector Manipulation]
The air in the bakery abruptly froze. Every single atom of flour that was currently exploding outward suddenly lost its kinetic velocity.
The white powder hung suspended in midair. It was frozen perfectly like a photograph.
Estella blinked. A small patch of flour sat right on her nose. She stared at the frozen cloud.
With a lazy flick of his wrist, Draven completely reversed the directional vectors. He captured every single atom and folded the kinetic forces inward.
The flour collapsed and floated neatly back into the mixing bowl. Not a single speck hit the floor.
"Show-off," Estella grumbled. She pouted and crossed her arms.
Draven simply smirked and walked up to the table.
"Step aside, MasterChef. Watch how it is done."
Draven did not even touch the dough. He manipulated the invisible kinetic forces in the air. Fifty pounds of sticky heavy dough lifted off the wooden table.
It twisted, pulled, and folded itself perfectly in midair. He used his vectors to effortlessly knead the mixture. He applied the exact kinetic frequency required to develop the gluten.
"This is the work of an Absolute Master!" Bram’s father was shocked. He had not seen such work done so professionally well.
Hidden safely inside the deep pocket of Draven’s coat hanging on the wall, the tiny baby dragon Astraxion poked its leafy head out.
It let out a soft hungry chirp as it watched the floating dough.
---
In the back corner of the kitchen away from the magical chaos, things were moving at a much slower pace.
Bram stood over a cutting board with his massive hands coated in flour. Beside him stood Natalie.
"You have to be gentle with the sweet-breads," Bram explained softly. His booming voice reduced to a gentle rumble.
Despite his terrifying size and his heavy Vanguard gauntlets, his thick fingers moved with surprising delicacy. He pinched and rolled the soft dough into a perfect intricate braided shape.
"Like this?" Natalie asked. She was using her enhanced sensory magic to literally feel the microscopic texture of the dough.
But her hands were still clumsy. She tried to braid it, but the dough stretched too thin and tore.
"Oh no. I ruined it."
"No you didn’t," Bram smiled warmly.
He stepped slightly closer. Bram gently placed his massive flour-covered hands over Natalie’s smaller ones.
Natalie’s breath hitched slightly. The giant boy was incredibly warm and his presence was overwhelmingly safe.
"You are applying too much pressure to the center," Bram murmured. He gently guided her hands.
"Do not fight the dough. Just fold it. Let it rest into the shape."
Under his careful guidance, Natalie’s fingers moved smoothly. They wove the dough into a beautiful flawless braid.
"I did it," Natalie whispered. A bright genuine smile bloomed on her face.
She looked up. Because of their close proximity, her face was only inches from his.
Bram’s heart suddenly hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
He looked down into her wide sparkling eyes. A deep furious blush immediately spread across his thick neck and cheeks.
"Y-Yeah," Bram stammered. He awkwardly stepped back and scratched the back of his neck. This sent a puff of flour into the air.
"You have really good hands for this, Natalie."
Natalie smiled. A soft pretty dusting of pink appeared on her own cheeks.
"Thank you, Bram. You are a wonderful teacher."
It was not some explosive romance. It was just a quiet delicate bud blooming in the flour-dusted corner of a civilian bakery. A slow gentle realization between the giant shield-bearer and the timid archer. But to them, it meant everything.
By the time the sun began to set, the sky above Bastion Seven was painted in shades of deep purple and gold. The impossible had been achieved.
Two thousand perfectly baked golden-brown tarts and sweet-breads were boxed and stacked by the front door.
Mr. and Mrs. Stonehelm were practically in tears. Mrs. Stonehelm aggressively hugged Aegon without caring about his noble status at all. She then stuffed a massive special box of fresh pastries into Draven’s hands.
"We can never repay you," Mr. Stonehelm said. His voice was thick with emotion as he bowed his head to the squad. "You saved our livelihood today."
"Just keep making the best bread in the Bastion, Mr. Stonehelm," Draven smiled warmly. "That is payment enough."
The squad said their goodbyes and stepped out into the cool evening air.
The civilian sector had transformed. The Central Plaza was fully lit for the Harvest Festival. Thousands of glowing paper lanterns drifted gently in the sky. Lively upbeat music echoed from the street corners. The smell of roasted meats and sweet sugar filled the air. Unawakened children ran through the streets laughing freely. They were completely safe behind the Bastion walls.
The squad walked together through the vibrant crowd. They entirely blended in as normal teenagers enjoying the festival.
Estella opened the bakery box Draven was carrying. She took out a sweet-bread tart and took a bite.
"Wait," Estella paused. Her eyes widened as she looked closely at the pastry. "Why is the cream inside glowing?"
Draven looked down. Peeking out of his coat pocket, Astraxion gave a highly suspicious and incredibly innocent chirp. The baby dragon wiped a smudge of glowing star-cream off its tiny snout.
"Ah," Draven coughed to hide a laugh. "I think Astraxion might have sneezed some stardust into the final batch while we were not looking."
Aegon laughed warmly and took a glowing pastry for himself. "Well it enhances the flavor. A Mythical-tier sweet-bread."
Draven walked in silence as he chewed on the warm starlit pastry. He looked at Aegon laughing with Bram. He looked at Natalie walking close to the giant boy with a soft smile. And he looked at Estella who bumped her shoulder playfully against his. Her amethyst eyes perfectly reflected the beautiful festival lights.
Draven took a deep breath of the crisp clean air. He let the sounds of the civilian laughter wash over him.
He realized this was exactly why he fought the dark. He was going to protect this peace no matter what it cost.
