Laniakea entered his soul realm and saw the notebook. He looked at it, wondering what he would learn today. He reached out to turn a page, but to his surprise, it wouldn't budge.
"What is going on? Why won't it turn?" Laniakea pulled at the parchment with all his might, but the book remained stubborn. "There must be a reason. If I can't turn it, there's a prerequisite I haven't met."
He paused, his expression focusing as he began calculating the variables. "Based on my progress so far, there is an 80% chance this is tied to my current Aura control or capacity. The remaining 20% is likely an unknown or undiscovered factor."
He paced, muttering to himself. "It shouldn't be capacity. Unlike other knights whose Aura centers solely on the heart, my entire body acts as an Aura heart. That should rule out raw power—unless it's a matter of refinement. Let's adjust: 60% chance it's a control issue, 40% something else..."
After several minutes of intense deduction, he stopped and rubbed his temples. "My brain is getting too much action. I may be smart, but I'm still a child; I shouldn't overwork myself or I'll start losing hair." He sighed. "Time to sleep. Or... am I already sleeping? I've never questioned if my body rests while I'm in the soul realm, or if I'm technically awake. No, no—I'm getting distracted again."
Laniakea exited the soul realm and woke up. Seeing that it was still deep in the night, he closed his eyes and drifted off. When morning finally came, he washed his face, changed, and headed straight to his job at the tavern.
However, as he arrived, he noticed something was off. The tavern was deathly quiet. Laniakea enhanced his hearing with Aura, sharpening his senses to catch distant sounds. He closed the door behind him and listened intently. Voices were coming from the owner's office—familiar voices.
He made his way to the office door. He knocked once in the center of the heavy wooden frame and twice on the side—a specific signal to let the boss know it was an employee, not a stranger.
"Come in!" the owner called out.
"Excuse me, Boss," Laniakea said, stepping through the door without looking up. "Why is the tavern so empty? The last time it was like this, that strange woman and her guard were—"
He stopped mid-sentence as a loud sigh echoed through the room. Looking up, Laniakea saw the hooded woman and her guard standing by the desk.
"A 'strange woman,' huh?" she said, a playful edge to her voice. "I thought I'd left a favorable impression. It seems I was merely 'strange' after all."
Laniakea didn't flinch. "I didn't mean that in a disparaging way. I simply found it unusual that an honorable noble would react so strongly to a commoner's cooking. I was confused, not insulting. I meant no harm," he said with total confidence.
The woman chuckled. "My, my. Such a perfect answer. Had you been born a merchant, you could have sweet-talked anyone in the kingdom." Her guard, however, didn't share her amusement, scowling at Laniakea for the "strange" comment.
"So, Boss," Laniakea turned back to the owner. "Why is the tavern closed?"
"These people have business with you, not me," the owner answered. "It seems you impressed her more than I realized."
The woman leaned forward, her tone becoming serious. "Now that the reason for my appearance is clear, I shall be straightforward. Laniakea, I want you to work as a chef in my household. To be precise: my personal chef."
Laniakea tilted his head. "And why would I do that?"
"First, because a noble is asking," she said, sliding a piece of paper across the desk. "And second... because of this."
Laniakea maintained his poker face. "Excuse me, but I sadly can't read. I don't know if I can accept a contract I can't understand."
The tavern owner snorted. "You brat! Stop the act. Don't lie to a noble's face. Read the paper!"
Laniakea let out an awkward smile, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck. He picked up the paper and scanned the contents.
"When do I start?" he asked, without wasting a single second.