Lend Me a Chef
"Lend me a chef, please."
"A chef? Sure thing. Anything else you need?"
"No, that's plenty."
It was an out-of-left-field request, but the lord accepted without pressing for details. He'd heard tales of Immortals who savored fine cuisine, and around these parts, there weren't many spots whipping up anything worth calling food anyway. So he figured it made sense. He even asked if there was more Vulcan wanted, but Vulcan was good with that.
Truth be told, the chef wasn't even for him.
"Could you bake me some chocolate cakes? As many as possible."
"Chocolate cake? Of course, leave it to me."
Vulcan stepped out and met the chef through a waiting attendant. He asked the man to churn out as many chocolate cakes as humanly possible. It'd take time, sure, but the guy wasn't handling everything solo, so by the time Vulcan wrapped up maintenance and headed to the Cave of Screams, there should be a decent stash ready. And when he got back, even more would be waiting.
Chocolate cake? And of course, Tud—who'd been bored out of his mind perched on Vulcan's head—perked up, tail swishing wildly.
The local shops only stocked basic chocolate bars and chocolate bread at best—no proper cakes in sight. Melting chocolate for a makeshift cake wasn't an option either. So Tud had been making do, chomping through chocolate and bread to kill the tedium. Now Vulcan was pulling real chocolate cake out of thin air? Expectations were skyrocketing.
"I'll swing back soon to grab them. And if it's not too much trouble, keep baking while I'm gone. I'll pick up the rest in a week."
"You got it. The lord himself asked, so I'll give it my all."
The guy wasn't some master pâtissier or bread specialist, so top-tier flavor was a pipe dream. But anything halfway decent would satisfy this gluttonous dragon. He acted like a gourmet, but chocolate was his kryptonite.
Expectation... crunch... building... crunch... munch.
What're we... chomp... doing next?
"...Finish eating first. Maintenance comes before anything. All my armor's gone, so I've gotta restock. By the time I'm done shopping, there should be enough cakes baked for a taste."
Hmph. Fine. Take it slow, no rush. Haste makes waste, after all.
And just like that? Tud—who usually hounded him nonstop—was playing nice. Probably because rushing maintenance might mean the cakes weren't ready yet.
The Cave of Screams, huh...
As he left the lord's castle, Vulcan sank into thought. He recalled what little info had leaked about the Cave of Screams back in the day, then checked his current setup.
Should be doable.
First, basic counters for the cave's spawns. Tricky bastards even for this level bracket—higher levels needed special gear or skills to handle them without pain. But Vulcan had a few ideas.
Separate issue: he needed to check his status and gear. Monsters en route, potential fights, and steady hunting was non-negotiable anyway. Best to gear up properly when he had the downtime.
"Level's come along nicely, at least."
Level check first. He'd left Regon Village at 41. Coming back? 58. And that was without side quests in Rezina—just the main scenario. Insane gains. Normies graduated Rezina around 60 and moved on.
"Stats... all-in on Strength, per usual."
Every new stat point dumped into Strength, on Tud's advice.
Pure Strength hit 200, netting another title. The upgraded version of his 100-Strength "Peerless Warrior." Lost the flat +20 Strength, gained +5% instead. No immediate pop, but percentages scaled better long-term. Way superior overall.
Plus 20% weight boost and Power Throw—a higher-tier hurl skill, no book needed.
Hit 200 Strength pre-100. He knew the conditions and effects, but Vulcan still cracked a satisfied grin.
Can't see the next one's trigger yet, but higher tiers exist.
Strength 300? Plenty tried, nothing happened. Rumors of someone getting it, but no deets. Still, Vulcan felt like he could snag it.
"Gear's the real headache..."
Future problems. Vulcan snapped back to the present. What to equip?
DIY was ideal for usable stuff. Dragon Eye recipes showed solid, cheap options. But they didn't fit his build—all Strength meant low Vitality, Agility, etc.
Gear could patch raw stats, but defense would suck. To max Item Master’s restriction ignore, grab overleveled high-rarity gear.
Could craft high-level? Max craft level was his level +100: 158 cap. Tough, time sink. No point hammering away while time ticked.
"Fucking scrap metal, and it's pricey as hell."
So he bought. Cheapest 200s armor set. Levels and Item Master rank meant no option effects anyway—good enough.
Tsk tsk. Make your own, artisan. Buying trash like this? Pathetic.
"Ugh, cut me some slack, just this once."
Grabbed consumables and artisan tools next. Tud griped, but reality bit. No choice.
"I'm not doing this 'cause I want to..."
Hmph. Lame excuse! Spend it on chocolate instead... ahem. Show some respect to Tud, and maybe I'll teach you.
Basic potions? Alchemy handled. But bottles, tools, mats? Gold chunks vanished. Lord’s 300 barely covered three no-frills pieces.
Tears, man.
Wallet stung, but resale later. Investment for growth.
Gear done, Vulcan logged off for rest, then returned for cakes.
Why! Why just one!!
Pang! Pang!!
Handed Tud one, inventoried the rest. Kid tantrum ensued, but he'd inhale them all otherwise. Management required.
Food's prime leverage.
Low-level zone meant Tud just whined, but his knowledge trove? Bribe right, huge payoff.
Hand over more, now!
Crack!
Tail-whips and full-head chomps—no damage, fine. Vulcan ignored the rampage, headed to the Cave of Screams. More chocolate bars shut him up.
So, what's the loot here?
Cave entrance: guards posted. Block monster outbreaks or sneaky explorers. Sign of danger, but they waved Vulcan through—tipped off.
"Giant Bats."
Hence the hassle.
Cave's name? Simple. Screeching echoes inside. Adventurers fleeing screaming, souls shattered.
Culprit? Secret officially, but streamers spilled: Giant Bats. Not bloodsuckers, but massive body-slams, bites, flight made them pains. Sonic blasts worse.
Physical defense worthless. Magic resist doesn't block mental hits.
Screech attacked directly and messed minds: paralysis, terror flight, hallucinations targeting allies. They swooped in the meantime. No anti-mind gear? Forget it.
High physical def helped vs. slams/bites, but sonics still chipped. Couldn't last.
Drops suck too.
No valuables, so no buying pricey mind-gear, risking rep hits to clear. One streamer ran it endgame—caught by guards, place forgotten.
But for Vulcan? Blue Iron Ore veins. Clear to mine, develop? Rewards galore.
"This spot work?"
Inside, Dragon Eye locked veins and stirring bats afar.
They sensed intruder, swarmed.
"Come on..."
Kyaaang!!
Vulcan didn't hide or snipe. Pulled pickaxe, swung at vein. Baiting them.
"Kieet!"
Instant reaction. Screeching dive, sonics on enter-range.
"..."
Mind-assault, higher level—low resist chance. Vulcan just watched blankly.
"Hm? Down one already?"
Tilted head. No sound reached him.
"This thing works great."
Sonic attack? Can't hear, can't hurt. Clever... too clever.
Blacksmith's Earplugs in Vulcan's ears, cave shadows hiding them. Artisan item for hammer noise—full noise-cancel.
"If it don't work, tank it!"
Sonics nullified. His sound cues limited too, but straight cave echoed anyway. Dragon Eye pierced dark, pinpointed bats.
Vulcan leaped at charging bodies, sliced wings first. Mobility gone, he shredded the skill-less husks at will.