Chapter 14: My Wife’s Cooking is......
Blood.
The once green grass was dyed red.
Corpses everywhere showed that a battle had happened.
Lucien stood at the center of it all, the Fang of the Unnamed Dark still soaked in blood.
His clothes were torn in a dozen places, but his injuries had already healed – the Origin Anchor Body at work. He knew this physique was the main reason he had entered that state so easily.
Seraphina landed beside him without a sound. Her spear vanished into a ring on her finger – an origin ring. She looked at the grass, now painted red, then at Lucien.
"Not bad for a first real fight," she said.
"Leaving your husband like that in the face of an enemy? Do you want to be a widow?" Lucien joked.
"I would love you to be frail. Carrying you like a baby, feeding you, changing your clothes, wiping your ass... you would be just for me..."
Lucien regretted his words, glancing at her and seeing her eyes glowing with obsession.
"...but I know I can’t be there for you every time. So I need you to be strong. So that in times of danger, even without me there, you can survive in this cruel world."
Her lips curled into a soft smile. The wind blew through her hair, and the moment stamped itself on Lucien’s heart.
He smiled. His heart felt comfortable and relaxed.
"Let’s take what we came for and continue to the next mission." Her words woke him from his reverie.
He walked to the corpses of the Impalers, grasped their horns with a small twist, and they detached easily.
These horns were the ingredients they needed for the alchemy mission – used in poison antidote pills.
This was the way of life. If you aren’t strong enough, you will be stepped on and used by others.
As for whether he felt anything... he did. But with a change of mentality, he overcame it.
If he had been weak, he would have been killed. Everything you do in this world is for survival – for yourself and for your loved ones.
After collecting all of the horns, Lucien and Seraphina left and headed to the next mission’s location.
They accepted two types of missions.
For the second mission, they needed the heart of a Thornback Boar – a Volkoid known for its strong defense.
There are two types of Volkoid: High Volkoid and Low Volkoid.
High Volkoid are born with the blood of ancient Volkoids and can take human form as well – for example, the dragon race, the phoenix race, and so on.
Low Volkoid can’t hide their beastly nature. Their bodies are twisted by instinct, their minds driven by hunger and territory. They hunt and feast on their fellow races – for example, the Cottontail Impaler and this Thornback Boar.
Now they had to look for the Thornback Boar. Its location varied – they could spend up to three days searching.
"Why don’t we take a rest and eat some barbecue? Let me taste my wife’s cooking," Lucien proposed.
Seraphina’s body shook as if she had been stung.
"Haven’t you checked the origin ring Mom gave you?" she asked.
"Not really. I’m sure there are goodies in there, but I don’t want to rely on them." Lucien shook his head.
"That’s true, but Mom helped you add cloth armor. Now you won’t have to worry about changing clothes after every battle," she said.
"Really?" Lucien’s eyes lit up.
He brought out the origin ring. Valyra had given it to him when they were leaving, saying it would help him.
"Ahem, there are also some delicacies packed for you," Seraphina added.
Lucien opened it. His clothes were folded in a corner. Beside them lay a black coat that radiated strong energy – the armor, he guessed. There were also origin stones, so many that they formed a small mountain.
Origin stones were the currency of cultivators. They stored raw Originat and could be used to accelerate cultivation, power arrays, or trade for rare goods. A pile this size was worth more than most mercenaries earned in a year.
He saw the delicacies, packed on one side, well preserved.
"Well, we’ll eat the delicacies later. Let’s have barbecue meat first." Lucien grinned and walked off, not noticing the ugly expression on Seraphina’s face.
She wanted to speak, but Lucien had already walked off.
After cleaning himself, Lucien changed into the armor cloth.
The black silk slid over his skin like water – cool, weightless, silent. It covered him from neck to wrist to ankle, hugging his frame without binding. The silver threads along the chest and shoulders caught the fading light, pulsing faintly with Originat.
He flexed his arms. No resistance. He twisted his torso. Nothing pulled.
Good armor, he thought. No, great armor.
He stepped out from behind the trees.
Seraphina was already there, sitting on a fallen log, a small fire crackling before her. She had gathered twigs and dry grass, and the flames danced between them.
"You started the fire," Lucien said.
"Of course." She patted the log beside her. "Sit. You wanted barbecue, yes?"
Lucien sat. He watched as she pulled a wrapped bundle from her origin ring – raw meat, already cut into slabs. Impaler hindquarters.
She skewered a piece on a thin branch.
Lucien watched her hands. The way she held the branch was awkward. Too high. The meat dangled close to her fingers instead of the flame.
Even though he hadn’t cooked before – neither in his past life nor this one – from watching experts, he knew the steps.
But Seraphina’s method seemed... unique.
Does she know how to cook? he wondered.
She held the meat over the fire. It hissed. Then smoked. Then the edge began to blacken.
"Seraphina," he said slowly, "do you know how to cook?"
Her head snapped toward him. "Of course I do."
She puffed out her chest. "Now calm yourself and eat your food."
She thrust the branch toward him.
Lucien smiled and took it.
He looked at the barbecued meat in his hand. Charred on one side, raw on the other, leaking something that looked like oil mixed with ash.
He paused. The appearance wasn’t enticing.
"Eat it."
He turned to see Seraphina’s glowing eyes.
Well, nothing could go wrong. You can’t judge things by their appearance, he thought.
He bit into it.
And his tongue tasted hell.
The flavor hit him like a slap. Bitter. Burnt. Chewy in some places, mushy in others. His throat convulsed.
He almost spat out the meat. Almost vomited.
Thinking of Seraphina beside him, he forced himself to swallow.
"How is it?" Seraphina asked, eyes bright.
He smiled. "Delicious."
Her face lit up. "Really? Let me try."
"No, no, you don’t have to – "
She grabbed the branch from his hand before he could react and bit into the same piece.
Her expression froze. Then twisted. She turned her head and spat the meat onto the grass.
Her expression turned ugly.
"Blegh!" She coughed, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "That’s terrible!"
Lucien couldn’t help it. He laughed.
She glared at him, cheeks flushed red.
"You lied," she accused.
She had thought she was a natural born cook when Lucien called it sweet – she had never cooked before. But reality had other plans.
"You puffed your chest," Lucien countered. "It was great seeing how confident you are."
They stared at each other. Then she laughed too – a real laugh, bright and unguarded.
"Fine," she said, pulling out a wrapped bundle from the origin ring. "We’re eating the delicacies your mother packed."
Ding!
[Host has tasted his wife’s bad cooking and behaved like a good husband. You are rewarded with Master Chef experience and skills, and 1 random Gacha Ticket.]
