The eastern forest border looked even more ominous under the overcast sky.
Dark clouds hung low, casting a gray pall over the trees. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint, acrid tang of smoke — a clear warning that the Flamefang pups were active again. Occasional distant roars echoed through the woods, making the leaves rustle uneasily.
Will Harlan stood at the edge of the clearing with the small support team. The Mother's Worn Pot was strapped securely to his back, its weight familiar and comforting. The Inherited Kitchen Knife rested at his belt, and the Simple Apron — now permanently marked with oil and spice stains — felt like his own kind of armor.
Marcus, the serious second-year team leader, gave the group one final look.
"Same formation as last time," he said grimly. "Flamefang pups and Shadow Lurkers again. The numbers are higher. Stay sharp. Harlan — you know what to do."
Lena gave Will a small, encouraging nod. Theo looked more serious this time, gripping his staff tightly.
Einsfel stood close to Will, her deep blue and gold-trimmed uniform catching the dim light. Her silver-gray hair was tied back neatly for combat, though a few loose strands still framed her face. She carried her crystalline magic staff with graceful confidence, but her blue eyes kept flicking toward Will with quiet concern.
"Be careful," she whispered when no one else could hear. "I'll cover you."
Will nodded, heart swelling at her words. "I know. Thank you."
Marcus gave the signal.
"Move out."
The team advanced into the trees.
The Flamefang pups appeared first — more of them this time, their glowing orange fur crackling with sparks. They were fast and aggressive, darting between tree trunks and launching small fireballs that left scorched marks on the ground. Behind them, a larger group of Shadow Lurkers slithered through the darker patches of shadow, red eyes gleaming with predatory patience.
Marcus gave the order.
"Engage!"
Fireballs exploded in bright orange bursts. Lightning crackled. Wind blades sliced through the air. The combat mages moved with practiced coordination, pushing the beasts back.
Will stayed at the rear, observing carefully.
He noticed the same pattern as before — the Flamefang pups kept pausing mid-charge, noses twitching violently as they sniffed the air, drawn toward something they couldn't resist.
They're drawn to the scent again.
Will acted quickly.
He dropped to one knee in a small clearing, unstrapped the Mother's Worn Pot, and began cooking on the spot. The Inherited Kitchen Knife flashed as he diced meat and vegetables with blinding speed. He added a stronger blend of spices this time — dried chili flakes, garlic, wild peppercorns, and a touch of secret herbs he had gathered earlier that week. The rich, fiery aroma of Hellfire Hotpot Base began to roll across the battlefield like an invisible wave of heat and flavor.
The Flamefang pups froze mid-leap.
Their noses twitched frantically. Then, as if hypnotized by an irresistible force, they abandoned the mages completely and charged straight toward Will and the bubbling pot instead.
"Harlan!" Marcus shouted. "What are you doing?!"
"Trust me!" Will called back, voice steady despite the chaos.
He scooped ladlefuls of the steaming hotpot base and flung them forward like fiery projectiles. The pups pounced on the food greedily, devouring it in seconds.
The effect was spectacular and chaotic.
The overwhelming spiciness triggered their fire elements into complete overload. Flames erupted uncontrollably from every pore of their bodies. Their own protective fire shields turned against them, roasting them from the inside out. One by one, they spun in wild, frantic circles, shooting flames in every direction before collapsing in dramatic puffs of chili-scented smoke and sparks.
One particularly enthusiastic pup ate too much at once and literally exploded in a shower of orange sparks and steam, leaving behind a small crater that smelled strongly of overcooked barbecue.
Lena couldn't help but laugh out loud. "He did it again!"
Theo stared with wide eyes. "This is ridiculous… but it works."
Even Marcus looked impressed, his usual stern expression cracking with reluctant respect.
The remaining Shadow Lurkers tried to take advantage of the chaos, slithering forward from the darker shadows with razor-sharp claws extended. Will didn't have time to cook more.
He reacted on instinct.
Grabbing the Simple Apron with his left hand, he spun it like a makeshift shield while slashing forward with the Inherited Kitchen Knife. A concentrated burst of aromatic steam exploded from the blade's edge, slamming directly into the nearest Lurker like a spicy shockwave. The creature shrieked and dissolved into black mist.
Einsfel moved with graceful precision beside him. Her magic staff glowed bright blue as she launched controlled spells to cover his flanks, her eyes never leaving him for long. Every time a Lurker got too close, a precise blue bolt from her staff would intercept it.
When the last beast finally dissolved into harmless mist, the forest fell quiet once more.
Marcus lowered his staff and turned to Will, breathing heavily.
"…You're strange, Harlan," he said, but this time there was clear respect in his voice. "But you get results. The instructors will hear about this."
Lena gave Will a thumbs-up, still grinning. "Nice work. Seriously."
Theo just shook his head in disbelief. "I've never seen magical beasts defeated by seasoning before."
As the team began to regroup and check for injuries, Einsfel walked over to Will under the pretense of checking on him. Her voice was soft, meant only for him.
"You were incredible again," she whispered, her blue eyes shining with open pride. "The way you controlled the battlefield with just your cooking… it was beautiful to watch. I couldn't stop worrying about you, but you made it look almost easy."
Her fingers brushed against his hand in a hidden, intimate touch that sent a pleasant shiver up his arm.
"Tonight," she added, her voice dropping even lower, warm and full of quiet promise, "my room. I want to celebrate properly. Just the two of us."
Will's ears turned noticeably red, but he nodded.
"I'll be there."
As the group headed back toward the academy, the sun beginning to set behind the towering spires and painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and purple, Will felt a quiet sense of accomplishment settle in his chest.
He was no longer just the "soup boy" who got lucky once.
He was starting to prove — slowly, steadily — that flavor could be a power of its own.
And with Einsfel walking beside him, her presence a constant source of warmth and strength, he felt ready for whatever challenges the academy would throw at him next.
The Mother's Worn Pot on his back glowed with a soft silver-gray light, as if agreeing with him.
The Cooking Demon King was slowly, surely awakening.