Luna couldn’t deny it anymore.
The sll of the chicken was absolutely tantalizing.
At first, she’d thought her senses were deceiving her.
The elves had always been taught to avoid the scent of cooking at, to reject the idea of consuming it, to hold their noses high with the pride of their herbivorous heritage.
Yet now, as the golden aroma wafted through the air, wrapping around her like a warm embrace, her resolve began to crumble.
Her delicate nose twitched again and again, sniffing at the air as though trying to chase the invisible trail of scent.
But she shook her head violently, trying to resist.
’No! Stop it, Luna!’
She scolded herself internally, pressing her palms together.
’You’re an elf! You’re supposed to resist such temptations! You can’t be lured in by at!’
But it was hopeless.
As the minutes passed, the sizzling grew louder, and the sll thickened—spreading into the forest air like an enchantnt.
The chicken was slowly turning golden, the skin crisping and bubbling in the shimring oil, floating gracefully as though proudly showing off its transformation.
Luna’s lips parted slightly. Her eyes followed every glistening movent of the bubbling at.
Her stomach even gave an embarrassing growl, and before she realized it, she had started drooling.
"Ah!"
She gasped, wiping her mouth quickly and looking around in panic to make sure neither Luca nor Nyx had noticed.
Still, she couldn’t stop staring.
The sll was driving her insane.
She wanted—no, needed—to reach out, to pull one of those pieces out of the fryer and take the deepest sniff of her life. She could almost taste the flavor on her tongue just imagining it.
Her trembling hand even moved toward the fryer before she froze mid-air, realizing what she was doing.
’No, no! I’ll burn myself horribly!’ She thought, clenching her fists and stepping back, cheeks flushed with embarrassnt and frustration.
Still, even as she struggled with her own temptation, she sighed sadly.
When she looked around the clearing, there was...no one.
No elves ca.
No one peeked through the trees, no curious faces appeared.
It was as if the entire village had chosen to ignore them completely.
Her heart sank.
"Luca said they’d co running..."
She murmured, voice tinged with disappointnt.
"But no one’s here."
She glanced at the fryers again—their effort, their labor, all the sacrificed chickens that had given their lives for this mont.
Her chest tightened with guilt.
"So many of them...just for this." She whispered. "If no one eats it, it’ll all be for nothing."
She felt the sadness twist deeper in her heart.
The thought of those chickens’ deaths being aningless made her eyes sting.
She looked at Luca, who was standing proudly with his arms crossed, watching the fryers like a king waiting for his victory feast.
His confidence didn’t waver—but hers did.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe elves truly couldn’t change.
But then—
Shuff!
A sudden rustle from the bushes made her jolt.
"W-What was that?" She gasped, looking around sharply.
Shhh!
Then another rustle.
Twitch!
And another.
Twak!
And another—coming from every direction.
The sound of leaves shifting, twigs snapping, branches swaying.
It was coming from all around them.
"L-Luca..." She whispered nervously, gripping his sleeve tightly. "Sothing’s coming."
The rustling grew louder, closer. It wasn’t one or two things.
It sounded like dozens—no, hundreds of creatures moving through the forest.
Her eyes darted between the trees, panic rising.
"Is it...monsters? Did sothing break out from the Abyssmal Zone?"
Her mind raced. The way the sound surrounded them—it was like an ambush.
Instinctively, she reached for the nearest weapon she could find—grabbing the long tal handle of the fryer basket.
"If they attack, I’ll...I’ll splash this on them!"
She said, trembling but determined.
"Please don’t throw boiling oil on in the panic."
Luca simply said.
But before she could retort, sothing moved.
From the nearest bush, a head popped out.
Luna nearly scread—until she realized it wasn’t a monster.
It was...an elf.
And not just any elf...one she recognized!
"Selma?!"
Before she could say anything else, another head popped up from a different bush.
Then another.
And another.
One by one, elves began erging from every direction—behind trees, between roots, even from the branches above.
So peeked cautiously, others openly stepped out, their eyes wide with awe and curiosity.
Within monts, the entire clearing was surrounded.
Luna gaped, speechless.
The quiet forest was now alive with whispering voices, gasps, and the soft rustling of countless feet.
Over a hundred elves were now standing around them, staring.
Luca blinked in surprise, then slowly grinned.
"Told you they’d co."
But Luna couldn’t even respond.
She was still trying to comprehend what she was seeing.
All around them, the elves whispered among themselves in disbelief.
"What in the world..."
"What’s that sll?!"
"It’s divine!"
"No, no, look! It’s—wait, is that...chicken?!"
A chorus of gasps followed.
"No way! That sll ca from that?!"
"There’s no way...chicken can’t sll that good!"
Another elf leaned forward, squinting.
"But look—those shapes! That’s definitely a chicken leg!"
"And that one—that’s a wing! Look at it! Even though it’s covered in so kind of golden crust, it’s definitely a wing!"
"Oh gods, they’re boiling the poor things in oil!" One cried, covering her mouth in horror. "They’re killing them again!"
Nyx smirked under her breath. "If only they knew how fun that part was..."
But not all of them were horrified.
One elf whispered in awe.
"But...why does it sll so good?"
Another nodded, fanning the scent toward her face.
"It’s godly! Even though it’s flesh, it slls like heaven..."
More and more voices joined in:
"Could it be magic?"
"Is the Hero enchanting the food?"
"I don’t know...but I want to taste it so badly..."
"Don’t say that! It’s at! It’s forbidden!"
"But I can’t help it! My nose loves it!"
"Mine too! It slls like heaven!"
"Shut up! You can’t call cooked at heavenly!"
"Then explain why your drooling!"
The clearing erupted in chaos—a mix of horror, amazent, and reluctant hunger.
So covered their mouths, so clutched their stomachs, so sniffed the air like wolves in disguise.
"I thought cooked at slled foul!" One elf muttered. "When other races ca from other lands, I could barely stand their food."
"But this...this is different."
Said another, eyes shining.
"It’s warm, spicy, rich...I’ve never slled anything like it!"
A younger elf blurted, "My stomach’s rumbling! I think it’s calling to !"
"Don’t say that! You’ll sound possessed!" Another hissed.
"I am possessed! By the sll!"
The entire crowd stood at war with themselves—half of them recoiling in disgust at the idea of cooked flesh, the other half visibly struggling not to inch closer to the bubbling fryers.
It was a battle between tradition and temptation.
Between pride and hunger.
And in the center of it all, Luna stood frozen, surrounded by her people, realizing that Luca’s plan...was working.
She turned slowly to look at him—he stood there with his arms crossed, smirking confidently, the scent of victory and fried chicken swirling around him like perfu.
"Told you." He said smugly. "No one can resist fried chicken."
And hearing this, Luna couldn’t take her eyes off him.
The way he didn’t panic, the way he just knew what he was doing—it made her heart race.
For a mont, she forgot about the crowd, the chicken, the village, everything.
She just stared at him in a daze, admiration filling her chest.
But then she quickly shook her head, her cheeks flushed pink.
"What are you doing just standing there, Luna?"
She scolded herself before rushing forward and grabbing onto Luca’s sleeve with both hands.
"Luca! Look at them!"
She said, excitent and nervousness mixing in her voice.
"We got them! Look—we actually got them to all co here! They’re here because of the sll!"
She pointed frantically at the crowd of elves who were all around them, whispering, sniffing, and trembling with confusion and desire.
"Now we just have to reel them in! Go on, tell them sothing! Tell them how amazing chicken is, how it’s absolutely necessary for the village!"
"You’re so good with your words, Luca, give them one of your speeches—you know, one of those that can charm anyone into doing anything!"
"Co on, do it! Charm them into eating chicken!"
But to her surprise, Luca didn’t move. He didn’t puff up his chest or prepare for so grand speech.
Instead, he simply looked at her with a small, confident smirk.
"Sorry, Luna." He said quietly. "But as a chef, I’m not fond of showing off my dishes with words or speeches. I’d rather let my food speak for itself."
Luna blinked in disbelief. "What?!"
He crossed his arms. "A good dish doesn’t need to be sold. It needs to be felt. It has its own language—one that needs no translator."
His gaze drifted toward the bubbling fryer.
"So let’s give it fifteen seconds. And then you’ll see them drawn in on their own."
Luna’s jaw dropped.
"Ten seconds?! Luca, are you kidding ?!"
She gestured wildly to the elves.
"Half of them are ready to run away right now! You can’t just stand there and—"
"Ten seconds." Luca interrupted calmly. "Trust ."
"Ugh, you’re missing this pri opportunity!" Luna threw her hands up in despair.
But before she could say more, Nyx chuckled beside her, resting her chin on her palm.
"Heh. Well, well...this is getting interesting." Her eyes glimred with amusent. "Alright then, Hero. Let’s see if your ’dish language’ really works."
She raised one hand dramatically and began to count.
"Ten...nine...eight..."
Luna looked around nervously as the crowd of elves began whispering even more, their curiosity growing, their noses twitching as they inhaled the still-lingering aroma.
"Seven..." Nyx continued, smirking.
"Six...five..."
Luna bit her lip, her heart pounding.
’What is he planning?’
She thought, glancing at Luca, who was still perfectly composed, watching the fryer like a general awaiting victory.
"Four...three..."
The elves were now hypnotically staring, as if they could feel sothing coming.
"Two..."
Luna gripped her hands together, praying that whatever it was would work.
"And finally..."
"...One."
Ding!
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