Gourmet: Cooking for the Multiverse Chapter 49 49: The Heart is Still Alive

Ren sat aside, leaning against the counter with his chin resting on his hand, listening to Sylas tell his story.

The mage's voice was deep and rasping, filled with the weight of fifteen years of silence and resentnt. He spoke of his childhood in the slums of Demacia, of discovering his power to sense magic, and how his parents, fearing for their lives, handed him over to the Mageseekers.

Ren looked at the strong but clearly dispirited man in front of him. He saw the scars, both physical and ntal, and suddenly felt that the country called Demacia was very much like a feudal state from the Dark Ages, governed by fear and hypocrisy. It was not as free or noble as Sylas had initially described it in his monts of sarcasm.

"And so, I joined the Mageseekers…" Sylas continued, staring into his empty teacup as if reading the leaves. "They used as a hound. A living radar to sniff out other mages living in hiding. I thought I was doing my duty. I thought I was serving my country."

Ren stood up, interrupting Sylas's story. "It seems we need to pause for a mont. Because your al is ready. If you don't mind, you can continue later~"

Sylas blinked, pulled out of his mories. "Of course~ I'm very much looking forward to what kind of food my experience will exchange for. I haven't had a hot al in... a very long ti."

Ren smiled and returned to the kitchen. The clinking of ceramics and the sll of savory spices wafted out.

When he ca out this ti, Ren was holding a large black clay pot in one hand, steam rising from the vent hole in the lid. In the other hand, he balanced a wide, deep plate piled high with golden-brown rice.

Sylas was slightly startled when he saw the sheer volu of food. His eyes widened.

"This… what is this?"

Ren set the dishes down on the table with a solid thud.

He smiled and said, "Ah, this plate just has Curry Beef Fried Rice. And this clay pot has Sparerib Soup with Winter lon and Corn. I can tell you probably haven't been eating very well—rats don't have much nutritional value—so I made these two things for you. The portion is generous because you need the calories, and the soup can nourish your stomach without being too heavy to digest after starvation."

Sylas looked at Ren for a long ti. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

Then he smiled, a genuine, crooked smile that reached his eyes. "I never thought that after being unlucky for so long, I would finally be lucky today~. Fortune favors the chained, it seems."

Ren said nothing. He simply returned to the kitchen to get Sylas a glass of warm water to cleanse his palate.

By the ti he ca out, he saw Sylas heartily eating the curry fried rice with a spoon, abandoning all noble etiquette for pure survival instinct.

Just as Ren went in, Sylas finally couldn't resist the rich aroma of the curry fried rice. It slled of cumin, turric, and caralized onions—scents that were alien to a Demacian dungeon.

He picked up the spoon, his chains rattling against the table edge, and scooped a large spoonful into his mouth.

Crunch. Chew.

The first sensation was hot—a comforting thermal heat. This was followed by the faint spiciness of the curry powder and the natural sweetness of the sautéed vegetables. The rice grains were distinct and chewy, coated in the golden sauce.

Sylas instantly fell in love with the taste. It exploded on his tongue like a spell.

"Hmm? Is this at?" He chewed on a tender, savory cube.

Ren placed the water in front of Sylas and said with a smile, "That's right. It's Curry Beef Fried Rice. Not bad, right? I used tenderloin. I wonder if I added too much onion~"

"Onion? What's that?" Sylas asked between mouthfuls.

"It's this sowhat whitish, translucent vegetable here~. It provides sweetness and texture."

"Oh. So that's onion. To be honest, this thing is delicious. I don't care what it is."

After saying that, Sylas continued to wolf down his food. Ren knew Sylas must be very hungry, so he didn't interrupt.

Sylas tried to ensure that each spoonful contained carrots, potatoes, onions, and at chunks. These ingredients, combined with the slightly yellowed rice, created a symphony of flavors with every bite. The crunch of the carrot, the softness of the potato, the bite of the onion, and the richness of the beef.

The exquisite fusion of texture and taste. This was a very holy dish in Ren's world, but often it is precisely such holy dishes that can bring an unusual sense of satisfaction and peace to a wandering soul.

Halfway through his al, Sylas slowed down. He rembered the pot of soup in front of him.

He picked up the ladle provided, scooped so up, and without blowing on it, brought it directly to his mouth.

"Hiss!"

He almost scalded himself to the point of spitting it out. He thought the soup's temperature would only be warm, never imagining it would be scorching hot due to the oil layer on top sealing in the heat.

But even though it was very hot, it still gave him an unprecedented taste sensation.

The soup was not a thick stew like the prison slop, but more like a clear, golden broth. A few pieces of spareribs quietly sank at the bottom, surrounded by chunks of translucent winter lon, sweet corn cobs, and soft tofu. A few red goji berries and chopped green onions floated on top, adding a splash of color.

This ti, Sylas didn't drink it impulsively. He blew on the spoon—fuu, fuu—then took a sip.

It was just one word: Fresh.

Incredibly fresh, but not bland. It had a faint saltiness from the pork bone marrow and a sweetness from the corn, which was just right for a soup like this. It washed away the grease of the fried rice.

"Hmm… hiss… exhale~"

Sylas scooped up a piece of tofu, blew on it twice, and put it in his mouth. He was scalded again slightly, but he quickly adapted, slowly chewing the hot tofu.

The smooth and tender texture, and the subtle salty and fresh taste, elevated the tofu's inherent flavor.

Ren just sat there watching Sylas. At one mont, the mage took a spoonful of soup, looking blissful. Then he picked up his spoon again to eat large mouthfuls of curry fried rice, looking ferocious.

Sotis, watching others eat is also a pleasure for a chef, especially when the food looks so delicious and the eater is so appreciative.

Clink clink...

Two scraping sounds of the spoon against the plate rang out as Sylas finally finished his fried rice. Not a grain was left.

Looking at the clean plate, Sylas licked his lips, still wanting more. Then he suddenly looked at the clay pot, which still had a little soup and tofu left at the bottom.

The clay pot was no longer scalding hot, just pleasantly warm. So Sylas directly picked it up with his chained hands and drank from it like a bowl.

He tilted his head back, draining every drop, even getting a piece of rib at that had been left behind earlier because it was cooked too soft and had fallen off the bone.

"Ah..."

After finishing the soup, Sylas put the pot down. He patted his stomach, which was now noticeably fuller. His face was a little rosier, the pale pallor of the dungeon receding slightly.

He leaned back in his chair, licking his lips and smiling, a genuine expression of contentnt. "I swear, this is the most delicious al I've ever had in my life. Better than anything I stole in the slums. Better than the rations."

Ren smiled and said, "I'm very satisfied that you can say that. By the way... The temperature of this water should be just right now~"

Sylas was startled. He picked up the water glass beside him and drank it all in one gulp, then let out a long sigh.

He held the glass in one hand and placed it on the table, remaining silent for a long ti.

This action was like the universal sign of a finished al—the sense of calm after satisfying a primal hunger, followed by drinking a cool glass of water to signal the end.

Ren smiled and said, "It seems you're full~"

Sylas nodded and said, "Mmm. I'm full. Truly full. Now I feel even less able to stomach prison food. I was gradually getting used to the moldy bread and water, but you've ruined , Ren."

Ren smiled and said, "You will gain your freedom sooner or later. As long as your heart is alive, a cage cannot hold you. Don't you feel much better now? The anger hasn't vanished, but it's... manageable."

"A cage cannot hold as long as my heart is alive..." Sylas repeated the words, testing their weight. "An interesting saying... but it's true! I won't stay in prison forever! My ntal state is exceptionally good now! I feel a sense of calm and peace I haven't felt in fifteen years."

Ren nodded and said, "Because being full brings a sense of peace~. The stomach rules the mind."

"Being full brings a sense of peace, and indeed it does. It's proof of being alive."

After cleaning up the dishes, Ren wiped his hands and looked at Sylas, who was finishing the last of his Lavender tea.

Ren smiled, "I thought you had already left. I didn't expect you to still be here~. Most guests leave after eating."

Sylas smiled wryly and said, "I may be a prisoner, and I might beco a reviled villain for seeking revenge on my country—I intend to shatter their precious order—but I still possess a conscience that nobles lack. I haven't finished my paynt. I haven't finished the story."

He looked Ren in the eye. "Where was I in my story?"

Ren thought for a mont and softly said, "You joined the Mageseekers... and you were used to hunt your own kind."

Sylas nodded. His expression darkened, but his voice remained steady. He continued his story. He spoke of the mission in the countryside. He spoke of the young girl with uncontrollable magic. He spoke of his attempt to save her by absorbing her magic, and how it went wrong, resulting in the accidental deaths of the Mageseekers. He spoke of his arrest, and the betrayal by the very people he tried to serve.

As if cooperating with Sylas, no other custor arrived until he finished. The restaurant remained a sanctuary for his confession.

Ren let out a long sigh when Sylas finally fell silent.

"Indeed, your country is not truly free. It is a cage built of fear," Ren said softly. "A very good story; tragic, but powerful. I sohow feel that my cooking might not be worthy of such a heavy price."

"I think it's just right..." Sylas smiled. "It filled the emptiness that the story left behind."

"Then let it be~. By the way, the guest you ntioned bringing earlier... was that Luxanna Crownguard? The only one who would talk to you and visit you in your cell?"

Sylas nodded, surprised that Ren guessed the na, but then rembering this was a magical place.

"Yes. Luxanna. That girl is not just ordinarily wealthy~. She is a Crownguard. But she is also a light mage living in fear. She brings books. She listens. She is kind."

He stood up, his chains rattling.

"Well, I should head back now, or the guards will find my cell empty and raise the alarm. I can't escape just yet. I need to prepare."

"I hope the next ti we et, I won't be wearing chains..." Sylas said, looking at his wrists with determination.

Ren also smiled and stood up. "Then, welco next ti. I hope you can leave your cage soon. But also..."

Ren's expression turned serious for a mont. "Rember who arrested you. Don't seek revenge on the wrong people. The common folk are not your enemy. And don't forget why you tried to save that girl back then. Your emotions should have cald down now, right? Don't let the anger consu the justice."

Sylas paused at the door. He looked back.

"You're right. I did intend to seek revenge on that country by any ans, burn it to the ground... but now... I will think about it. I will make them pay, but I will try not to beco them."

"Then, goodbye! Ren!"

With that, Sylas pulled open the door. A blast of cold, dungeon air hit him, but he didn't flinch. He stepped through and returned to the gloomy, damp cell.

The door closed, leaving the restaurant warm and silent.

Back in the darkness of the Demacian prison, Sylas sat on the cold stone floor. But this ti, his eyes were exceptionally bright in the gloom. His stomach was warm. His mind was clear.

He looked at the Petricite walls that held him and let out a soft chuckle.

Yes. My heart is still alive.

This place couldn't hold forever!

[Akarin's Note: Sylas is a mage from League of Legends. The guest he refers to is Lux. Given the tiline, this is before his escape and the subsequent revolution. I've said my piece here; you can imagine what kind of guest she might be connected to~]

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