Laniakea entered the kitchen, put on an apron, and took out the ingredients for his dish. He sliced deep pockets into the pale chicken breasts with a steady, iron blade, careful not to pierce the far side. Turning to his stone mortar, he ground blanched broccoli, sweet peas, and toasted pine nuts into a thick, emerald paste, binding the mixture with a slow stream of olive oil and crumbles of sharp sheep's cheese.
With a wooden spoon, he stuffed the vibrant green heart into the meat and sealed the edges with slivers of wood. After a quick sear in a hissing cast-iron skillet over the hearth fire, he slid the pan into the stone oven's radiant heat. Laniakea waited by the embers, the scent of roasting poultry and crushed garlic filling the kitchen until the hidden pesto turned molten within its golden crust.
Laniakea looked at the dish with a satisfied expression. "Voilà! Baked Stuffed Chicken Breasts with Broccoli-Pea Pesto. It's perfect—I'm not the sous-chef for nothing," he chuckled. He brought the giant dish into the dining room and asked Jessica to help him set the table.
"Hey, Lan, can I please have just one bite?" Jessica asked, her stomach growling.
Laniakea answered with a serious expression, "No, you're going to have to wait. It's important to eat together. If a chef cooks food for everyone, then it can only be eaten when everyone is there! Now, continue setting the table; you can have the first bite. It's not like I only made one," he added, looking at the other two servings with a satisfied smile.
He went out to the Sister and asked, "Sister, could you tell the others to come to the dining hall? Dinner is served."
"Of course I will," she answered. "I'm already excited to see what you've cooked up this time."
The Sister gathered the other kids. Once they were all seated, she reminded them to pray. After the prayer, the kids and the Sister began to eat, their faces lighting up with surprise. "Lan, you've outdone yourself again," the Sister said, smiling. "This is delicious. I'm glad you went to that tavern, or else we would've eaten mashed potatoes every day."
Laniakea told her not to praise him too much, but the child next to the Sister chimed in, "Lan, it's not a lie! This is really good. You're the only reason we eat this well. Thank you!"
Laniakea beamed and finished his food. "I'm going to the forest now. If anyone wants seconds, there's more in the kitchen—I only brought two of the three servings here."
Before the children could swarm him with thanks, he made his way out the back door. Laniakea began drawing on the Aura in the air to fuel his body, flooding his legs and neck with power. By reinforcing his neck, he protected himself from the whiplash of sudden acceleration, allowing him to maintain a steady, blurring stride. He arrived at his hideout in just a few minutes.
"Good. My time has shortened again—by about 27 minutes. Let's continue training."
Laniakea sat in a meditative pose and entered his soul realm. He opened his notebook to read further. Okay, so it turns out my current level is already that of a squire, he thought. A normal knight's Aura is measured by volume and purity of the Aura they can use without straining themselves, but since my whole body acts as an Aura heart, I only depend on purity. Since I've only been cultivating for a year, it's sadly still a dark blue. I hope to achieve a lighter color soon.
Returning to the physical world, Laniakea picked up the training sword he had received from "The Lion." He began his basic swings, imbuing every movement with Aura.