The elves were in pure bliss. The moment they took their first bites of Luca's grilled chicken, a wave of amazement spread through the clearing.
They had already thought fried chicken was the pinnacle of all flavor—that nothing in the world could ever surpass that golden, crispy delight.
But then came the grilled chicken. Its charred surface glistening, the smoky aroma so rich it made their mouths water all over again.
The first chew revealed a burst of juicy tenderness, the flavor sinking deep into their tongues with that perfectly roasted, fiery taste.
One elf practically moaned. "Oh my goddess...this is heaven."
Another nodded rapidly, eyes wide. "It's so...juicy! And that char taste—oh, it's divine!"
"How is this even possible? I didn't think chicken could taste this good!"
Within minutes, everyone was convinced—chicken was not just good.
Chicken was a gift from the gods.
Fried, grilled, roasted, smoked—it didn't matter.
Chicken was life.
