Mage? Magic Engineer!-Chapter 92 - 89: "Old Friend

The midday forest was filled with a fragrant aroma.

An apprentice from the Tower of Forest was in charge of the meals. One of them, a stout and rather large young man, took a cast-iron pot from a packhorse’s back. He rinsed it with the Water Creation Skill before taking out their ingredients.

He heated the bottom of the pot until it was warm—but not too hot—and tossed in two pats of butter. With a SIZZLE, the butter slid across the bottom, melting until it bubbled gently.

Next, he added diced onions to the pot. As he stir-fried them, they began to caramelize, their sharp pungency fading away to leave only a sweet fragrance.

He poured in the sliced mushrooms, stirring them gently and sparingly. No water was needed; the mushrooms soon released their own flavorful juices.

A pinch of salt, some precious black pepper, and a handful of flour went into the pot. The apprentice-chef took special care to toast the flour until it was cooked through.

The salt drew more moisture out of the mushrooms, and their edges began to brown and crisp.

"Hand me the milk." After about two minutes, he called for a jug of milk—it was a leftover from the inn, and the winter cold kept it from spoiling.

The apprentice—no, the *chef*—took the jug and poured its contents into the pot. All that remained was to heat the mixture and let it reduce. He stirred constantly, allowing the fats, milk, and starch to emulsify into a suspension, trapping all the flavorful aldehydes, ketones, esters, and amino acids within.

Still, the heat inevitably caused some of the aroma to escape, suffusing the forest air with the warm fragrance of food.

The other two apprentices were busy heating bread and frying bacon. No extra oil was needed; the bacon sizzled as it rendered its own fat.

Rorschach accepted a wooden bowl filled to the brim with creamy mushroom soup, garnished with two strips of crispy bacon and a few slices of bread.

"Oh, that smells divine! A pity I can’t have any..." The most agitated one was Kou Bo’s avatar. It darted around the pot and the dining crowd, hopping about and wringing its hands in frustration.

"The bacon should have been diced and fried with the onions. That’s how you get the best flavor... A pity someone here doesn’t eat meat." Unable to eat, the old man still had to get his two cents in.

Rorschach noticed there was no bacon in Humboldt’s bowl. ’You’ve got to be kidding me, Master. You transform into a massive wolf, but you’re a vegetarian?’

"Is Master Kuo Bo’s real body eating right now?"

Peterson shrugged. "Don’t mind the old man. He could probably live on sunlight alone."

’Is the old man a plant spirit? Can he photosynthesize? Has everyone at the Tower of Forest gone mad practicing the Natural System?’

Rorschach couldn’t help but feel that the vibe of the Tower of Forest was a little off.

An apprentice walked over, holding a small knife in one hand and something that looked like a lump of black coal in the other.

"Rorschach Mage, would you care for some of this?" The apprentice held out a truffle, its surface cleanly scraped. Not everyone could stomach its unique aroma.

Rorschach, a man of simple tastes, shook his head in refusal.

Cavendish, however, had a complete change of heart. He was practically bouncing with excitement. "These sell for an astronomical price in the Holy Kingdom! Your cooking is incredible. You could open a restaurant in Valuva and make a killing!"

The apprentice from the Tower of Forest shaved three slices into his bowl. "Ingredients are freshest in the forest. When they’re this fresh, they taste good no matter how you cook them."

As the apprentice passed by Rorschach again, Rorschach thought he heard him mutter, "Of course an Istani would think anything from the continent tastes good..."

After lunch, it was time for a long rest.

The Mages had decided on this arrangement after some discussion. The forest seemed relatively calm during the day, so they could rest and sleep with the Guardian Magic active.

At night, since they were all Casters, they could use Dark Vision or other Light Magic to travel without issue. More importantly, judging by the Beast Tide, the Black Forest was far more dangerous after dark. They needed to stay alert to handle any sudden changes.

Before his afternoon nap, Rorschach continued writing his letter to Master Kano. He unrolled the Communication Scroll and, after a moment of thought, gathered some leaves from the surrounding trees and placed them on the Teleportation Array as well.

He activated it. After a flash of Spiritual Light traced the Magic Circuit, both the letter and the leaves vanished.

Then he crawled into his sleeping bag.

But he couldn’t sleep. Even with the cover of the canopy, day was still day. It wasn’t so easy to flip one’s biological clock.

Rorschach squinted and looked around. Master Humboldt sat bolt upright by the campfire, as still as a monk in deep meditation. He was still the "Guardian" of their temporary camp, but now Kou Bo was with him.

As for the others, some had fallen into a deep sleep, while others tossed and turned in their sleeping bags, clearly unable to rest.

Old man Kou Bo popped up, flicked the forehead of one of the restless sleepers, and the man’s head immediately slumped over.

"Sleep well, young friend Rorschach. You can’t be drowsy tonight!" That was the last thing Rorschach heard before he fell asleep.

SNAP.

Rorschach’s mind stirred. He found that everyone around him had vanished. The forest was plunged into darkness, but the campfire still burned.

But Rorschach didn’t panic, because an "old acquaintance" was sitting by the fire:

The cast-iron pot was somehow full again. The Deer-headed God ladled out a bowl of mushroom soup and picked up a strip of bacon.

"This tastes good."

"You eat meat?" Rorschach wondered. ’With a deer’s head, shouldn’t you be eating grass?’

"I eat what the creatures of the forest eat."

"Then what about all the scavengers in the forest? Does that mean you also eat..." Rorschach found that he couldn’t finish the sentence, even in his own dream.

’This is outrageous!’

In the dream, Deryats wore a sorrowful expression as it stroked a tree trunk. "I thank you for making it this far."

"We made a promise, didn’t we? By the way, have you been in my head this whole time?" ’A wise old spirit guide is one thing... but a wise old doe? Please, no.’

"I was only able to gather my form once you entered the forest. And when you reach its heart, it will be time for us to part."

"Thank goodness."

The Deer-headed God gazed in the direction Rorschach and his party were headed. "You are not far from the home of my friend’s kin."

"You mean the Elf Village?" Rorschach shook his head. "Unfortunately, the Elves’ settlement was destroyed by a unit from the Empire decades ago."

"...Such tragedies have often played out on the continent and the islands. I had hoped the Elves here could avoid that fate..."

"But I can still feel their presence. This is not a good omen, especially with the forest’s corruption so severe." The deer-headed face actually managed an expression akin to a frown.

Rorschach noticed that Deryats’s expressions were more vivid than they had been in the Sub-plane. He quickly asked, "What’s happening to the forest? What is this corruption?"

"After my defeat in the Divine War, my Authority and my remains were split into ’Desolation’ and ’Proliferation.’ The former was exiled among the Flowing Crystals of the Star Realm, while the latter was left in this place."

"Perhaps that is the source of the corruption. Or perhaps it is something else... something worse."

"Can you stop speaking in riddles?" This was something Rorschach would normally have kept to himself, but he was getting anxious. Getting crucial information was more important.

"It is not my wish to be so. The more you know, the more you will be led toward an unbearable end."

"I can only offer you this: creation and destruction are a cycle, two faces of the same whole. Just like Desolation and Proliferation."

When Rorschach awoke, it was already dusk. The orange-red light of the setting sun pierced through the canopy.

The embers of the campfire were still glowing. On a branch overhead, a large owl tilted its head, staring at Rorschach with wide, luminous eyes before suddenly swooping down toward him.

The young man was startled by the bird of prey, but he forced himself to stay calm in his sleeping bag and prepare to cast a spell. ’Aren’t you an owl? Shouldn’t you be sleeping during the day?’

As the large bird landed with a flutter of wings, its form shifted and changed, revealing Old Sir Kuo Bo.

"Young friend Rorschach, since you’re awake, let’s get the others up. Time to hit the road."