The oven's soft heat washed over Marron as she pulled another tray of golden bread rolls from the hearth. The familiar ding of the system followed immediately.
[Quest Bonus: Baking Session Completed.]+500 XP.
Marron blinked at the glowing text in the corner of her vision. "Well. That's… generous."
Lucy practically vibrated on her stool. "Upgrade! Upgrade, please? Pretty please? I've been very good."
Marron set the tray down to cool, shaking her head with a reluctant smile. "You earned one. Fine. Slime Core upgrade approved."
Lucy clapped with her whole body, sending faint sparkles through her jelly-like form. Mokko leaned against the counter, chewing the end of a bread roll with an approving grunt. "You spoil her."
"She helps," Marron shot back. "That deserves an upgrade."
But when she opened her system panel, the glow of her new XP wasn't the only thing waiting.
[System Notice: Threat level rising.]Would you like to trade XP to upgrade your buff skillset?New Path available: Defensive Flavors — your dishes can grant protection as well as stamina.
Marron's stomach tightened. Defensive…? She pressed her palms against the counter, her breath suddenly shallow.
That wasn't supposed to be her path. She made bread, soup, rolls, pies. Food that warmed people. Food that healed. Not… battle rations.
Before she could decide, voices drifted through the window.
"…heard she's got gifts. Rare things.""And no guards.""Take the cart. Bet she's hiding more than bread in there."
Marron froze. She moved to the door, peering out into the half-finished street of Meadowbrook. A group of strangers—three men and a woman—lounged near the food cart, circling it like wolves around a penned calf. One of them yanked the cart's hatch open and began rifling through the supplies.
Lucy whispered at Marron's elbow, "They don't sparkle."
"No," Marron said tightly, stepping outside. "They don't."
The leader, a broad-shouldered man with a scarred cheek, yanked out a bundle of jars. "Well, well. What's this? Pickled vegetables? Preserves? This'll fetch something."
"You can't just—" Marron's voice wavered, but then grew firmer. "Put that back. That food is for Meadowbrook."
They laughed. One woman reached deeper into the cart and pulled something wrapped in cloth. She unfurled it—and Marron's chest clenched.
The lava snakescale oven mitts. That had been a gift from the Snake Queen, and she used it to pull pastries out. But that was when they were still in Snakewater Cove. For Meadowbrook, she'd been using the bread peel from the middle-aged rabbitkin.
Of all the days I decide not to hide it...good thing I hide the lantern unless it's nighttime. Now what, Marron?
I legitimately thought nobody would be interested in Meadowbrook. I never thought they'd rifle through my cart!
"Now this," the woman said, "this is special. Don't suppose a no-name cart chef just stumbled on these."
The sharp flare of anger in Marron's chest nearly blinded her. She felt it ripple out, like heat off a too-hot stove—
[System Alert: Anger detected. Cooking efficacy reduced for 2 hrs.]
She didn't care. Not now.
"Put those down." Her voice shook with fury. "They're mine."
Mokko stepped up beside her, his teeth bared in a low growl. The apprentices, who had been stacking timber nearby, scrambled for planks and hammers, faces pale but determined. The air thickened; Marron could taste the panic in her own mouth, bitter and metallic.
The leader sneered. "Or what? You'll bake us to death?"
Mokko tensed, ready to lunge—
And then a thud.
A heavy sack landed between the raiders and the cart, scattering dust across the cobblestones. The gold coins inside clinked audibly.
The newcomers' eyes widened.
"That should be enough, right?" She asked cheerfully.
Everyone turned.
A tall woman in a traveling cloak stood a few paces away, a merchant's satchel slung at her hip. Her blonde hair was tied back in a scarf, and her eyes glinted with dry amusement.
The raiders didn't hesitate. They scooped the sack up, weighed it, and bolted without looking back.
The apprentices sagged in relief. Marron finally exhaled, then her eyes widened.
"A-are you okay with that? Them taking your gold?"
The woman laughed. "I threw them magic gold. It'll be gone in two hours."
She dusted off her gloves and strolled forward. "They ran people out of Meadowbrook last time. Guess they thought you'd be easier prey." She turned, extending a hand. "Charity. Culinary Guild merchant. And you should be more careful."
Marron blinked, then shook her hand. "Careful—? I didn't even know—"
Charity's gaze flicked to Mokko, then to the still-nervous apprentices clutching planks like swords. "Do you know any attacks?"
Mokko stiffened. "I'm… a sous chef. The other chefs I worked under hired adventurers. Guards. I never needed—"
"But you do now," Charity cut in. "You thought fixing up one bakery wouldn't attract the wrong crowd? Meadowbrook's a beacon now. Beacons don't just call the lost. They call the greedy."
Lucy's tendril drooped. "We didn't mean for trouble to sparkle here."
Charity softened a little at the slime's trembling voice. She crouched, giving Lucy a pat that sent ripples across her form. "Trouble comes whether you mean for it or not. Luckily, I was passing through. Next time? Consider making stronger friends. Or defending yourselves."
Marron swallowed, her eyes drifting back to the system's waiting prompt. Defensive Flavors. Her bread rolls. Her soups. Her pies.
Not weapons—but shields.
The apprentices stood nearby, still pale but clinging to their scraps of timber like they were lifelines. Mokko's jaw was tight, his fists still clenched. Lucy hovered close, looking guilty and worried.
Marron thought of the oven mitts—snatched, mocked, almost lost. She thought of how it had felt to see them in another's hands.
She closed her eyes, drew a breath, and whispered, "Yes. I accept."
[New Skill Learned: Hearthguard Flavors]Your dishes may now grant defensive buffs. Effects depend on ingredient synergy and chef's intent.
Her palms tingled as though the dough she worked with daily had sunk into her skin. She opened her eyes and turned toward the bakery.
"Give me an hour," she said quietly. "Then eat."