AT THE SAME TIME
VESTA
Hestia was still there, standing in the doorway like she'd stepped straight out of my past. Her grin was the same, warm, careless, too bright for mortals to look at for long.
I grabbed a rag, half to busy my hands, half to give myself an excuse not to meet her eyes.
"Look, Hestia, it's nice you dropped by and all, but I've got a tavern full of hungry people, and you-"I began.
"-are one of them." She said quickly, sliding onto a stool at the counter like she owned the place. "I haven't had your stew in… what, three hundred years? Four?"
I sighed.
"Five."I said.
"Then I'm long overdue!" She said, leaning forward, chin propped on her hands. "One big bowl of your heavenly stew, please. And maybe those chicken cutlets you used to make? The ones with the crispy edges and the lemon salt? Oh, and some bread-"
"Hestia."I sighed.
She blinked, all innocence.
"What?"Hestia asked.
"This isn't a divine banquet. It's a mortal tavern. I don't even have half the ingredients I used to."I explained.
"Then make it with what you have." She said gently. "You always said good food doesn't need perfection. Just love."
My throat tightened. Damn her and her sentimentality.
"Fine." I muttered, turning toward the kitchen. "But if the ceiling collapses from divine interference, I'm making you pay for the repairs."
She giggled.
"Deal!"Hestia said.
When I finally set the bowl before her, steam curling up like a prayer, she clasped her hands together dramatically.
"Ah, it smells like home." She said, eyes half-lidded as she took her first bite.
The glow returned, subtle, shy like sunlight slipping between clouds. The entire tavern seemed to hold its breath. Hestia sighed contentedly, her shoulders relaxing as if years of divine weariness had just melted off her bones.
"I missed this." She murmured. "You could always feed the soul, not just the body."
"Yeah, well, the soul doesn't pay rent." I muttered, crossing my arms.
Her laughter filled the room, and somehow, despite myself, I smiled. Peace, it seemed, was once again off the menu. I woke up early, the smell of herbs and mischief still lingering in the air. Hestia was gone, thank the heavens, but she'd left behind an empty plate and a note: 'still the best chef in all realms! LOVE - H'."
I rolled my eyes, folded the note, and decided I'd better check in with the Guild before rumors got out of hand. If divine food was glowing again, the bureaucrats were going to start panicking, and it was better to get ahead of them before they sent someone knocking. So, after locking up the tavern, I headed to the adventurer's guild.
Eina Tulle, the same elf who had registered me years ago, greeted me with that professional warmth that meant she'd heard things.
"Miss Vesta." She said carefully. "We've received several… interesting reports about your cooking last night."
"Let me guess, healing, rejuvenation, divine sparkles?"I asked.
"Exactly those words, actually." Eina said.
I sighed.
"Great. That's going to ruin my quiet life again."I said.
Eina adjusted her glasses."When you registered before, you didn't list a Familia affiliation. But since your abilities seem… unique, we'd like to re-evaluate your level and stats."
I frowned.
"I was already checked ages ago. Level one. Ordinary cook."I said.
"Yes." She said. "But your recent activity doesn't look ordinary. Please, humor us."
I placed my hand on the crystal orb. The room filled with warm, golden light, soft and steady, like a heartbeat made of sunlight. The Guild clerk jumped. Eina's eyes widened.
"You're… Level 2."Eina said.
I blinked.
"Huh. That's new."I said.
"You don't have a Falna." She said slowly. "No god's blessing recorded, yet your status reads as self sustained divine energy. That's… unprecedented."Eina said confused.
"Call it muscle memory." I said, pocketing my new card when it printed.
Name: Vesta. Occupation: Cook / Adventurer. Level: 2 Blessing: Self-Sustained (Divine Origin). Status: Registered.
Eina stared at the glowing parchment, then at me.
"Miss Vesta… what exactly are you planning to do with this information?"Eina said.
I shrugged.
Maybe I'll take a look again since I am going to be official this time."I said.
Her eyes went wide.
"You're going into the dungeon?!"Eina asked, worriedly.
"Just a peek." I smiled. "Research trip. Field seasoning."
"Miss Vesta, the Dungeon is extremely dangerous-"She begun.
"Relax." I said, walking toward the door. "I'll bring a frying pan."
And before she could protest, I was already gone, an ex-goddess with a new Guild card, a suspicious glow, and a very bad idea brewing. How hard could it be to cook something in the Dungeon?
The first floor of the dungeon was exactly as I remembered from my first trip down here, damp stone, faint magical hums, and that weird smell halfway between wet moss and monster breath. Nothing had changed. Adventurers were still running around yelling battle cries like they were auditioning for a play, and goblins were still the worst smelling creatures in existence. Perfect. I adjusted my satchel, making sure the pouch of herb bread was secure, and rolled my shoulders.
"Alright, round two." I muttered.
This time, I wasn't wandering like a tourist. I moved lightly through the halls, quiet as smoke, slipping past a trio of adventurers hacking at a goblin. They didn't even notice me, which was ideal. I wasn't here for fame. I was here to test recipes. A cluster of goblins bickered over a carcass near a cracked pillar. Disgusting. I crouched low, knife balanced between my fingers, and exhaled. One step forward, one slice. Another spin, another cut.
The first goblin didn't even get to scream. The rest froze, blinking at their suddenly unconscious friend.
"Dinner's canceled."I grinned.
They lunged, snarling. I ducked under a club, kicked one in the knee, and flicked my knife in a clean arc. Goblin stew. Low difficulty, moderate aroma. From the corner of my eye, a rookie swordsman was struggling against another pair. Poor kid looked like he'd forgotten how to breathe mid-fight. I pulled a small loaf of herb bread from my bag, rosemary, thyme, and just a touch of divine energy, and tossed it his way. He caught it, blinked, then bit down mid-swing. His bruises faded, his grip steadied, and his eyes lit up like someone had replaced his blood with espresso.
"Whoa!" He gasped, driving his sword through a goblin's chest.
"Bread helps." I muttered, sidestepping another attack.
All around me, the chaos continued. Adventurers shouted, blades clanged, spells crackled. None of them had the faintest clue I was the reason their fatigue was evaporating. Exactly the way I liked it. I hopped up onto a small ledge overlooking the room, knife spinning idly between my fingers. From this height, it almost looked beautiful, all the movement, the glowing attacks, the flicker of torchlight bouncing off steel. A symphony of reckless mortals and monsters. Then one of them tripped over his own sword.
"Almost beautiful." I corrected. More goblins poured in from a side passage. I groaned. "Persistent little gremlins."I groaned.
I tossed another loaf toward a cornered archer. One bite, and his breathing steadied. Arrows flew straighter, faster, truer. He blinked, baffled at his own accuracy, but didn't question it.
"You're welcome, random mortal."I said.
By the time the last goblin dropped, the entire chamber had gone quiet except for the panting of half-exhausted adventurers. They glanced at each other, confused.
"Wasn't that wave supposed to be tougher?"One of them asked.
"I dunno, I feel like… we suddenly got stronger?"Another asked.
I leaned against a wall, cleaning my knife with a rag.
"Divine carbs." I whispered. "Never underestimate them."
As I started to move again, a faint blue shimmer in the rubble caught my eye. I crouched and brushed away dust to reveal a small, glowing mana stone, smooth, cool, humming with gentle energy. I turned it over in my hand, feeling it resonate faintly with my own divine spark.
"Well, aren't you pretty." I murmured, pocketing it.
Another glint. Then another. I found three more before I stopped counting. The first floor was generous today. These would make excellent catalysts for my next batch of stamina rolls. I was halfway through mentally drafting the recipe when I heard it, shouting from deeper in the tunnel. Not the usual 'help!' shouting. The oh gods we're about to die kind.
"So much for quiet fieldwork."I sighed.
I jogged toward the noise, boots splashing lightly against the damp stone. Ahead, a small team of adventurers was cornered by a horde of goblins, six, maybe seven, all bigger and meaner than the rest. The rookies formation was falling apart.
"Alright." I muttered, drawing my knife. "Let's help… quietly."
I slipped into the chaos like smoke. One goblin lunged for a mage, I slashed its tendon before it could swing. Another raised its club, I ducked, twisted, and stabbed upward, clean and quick. Then I tossed three tiny herb loaves into the air, watching them arc perfectly toward the panicking group. The adventurers caught them mid-fight, and the change was instant, energy, focus, even courage. Their fear evaporated as if someone had seasoned their souls. They fought back hard, blades flashing, voices strong.
"We're doing it! We're actually winning!"One of them shouted.
Yes, you're doing it. Definitely not the goddess crouched behind the pillar playing combat chef. Within moments, the goblins were down. The adventurers looked around, stunned.
"Did… did anyone cast a buff spell?"One of them asked.
"No?"Nearby standing man asked.
"Then why do I feel amazing?"He asked.
I smirked, crouching to collect another mana stone.
"Because I bake better than you pray." I whispered.
When the last adventurer left for the stairs to the second floor, I exhaled and let my knife spin once more between my fingers. The dungeon was quiet again, for now. I pocketed the stones, stretched, and smiled faintly.
"Still got it."I said.
But then, from deeper in the corridor, I felt something, heavier footsteps, a presence stronger than goblins, with mana thick enough to taste. My smile widened.
"Alright." I said softly, stepping forward. "Let's turn up the heat."