My Food Stall Serves SSS-Grade Delicacies!

Halloway's brow furrowed. "How bad?"

"Breathing, not much blood, might be internal. Not much else besides that."

Marron straightened in her chair. Her stomach twisted at the thought—five lives dangling by a thread, and the guild panicking. Outside, she could hear the sound of quick footsteps, but no shouting.

In truth, she expected Halloway to summon clerics or apothecaries. Instead, his hand rested on the heavy ladle that hung like a ceremonial relic on the wall.

"Tell them to reroute their injured here. The kitchens are prepared."

The adventurer nodded and sprinted off.

Marron blinked. "Wait. Here? You mean the Culinary Guild?"

Halloway glanced at her, his expression calm but serious. "Food is more than trade, Marron. You'll see soon enough."

Mokko bristled, ears flicking. Lucy tilted her gelatinous head, her body trembling faintly with curiosity. Marron felt her pulse race, but it wasn't from nervousness.

There's a recipe that can heal people's wounds?

+

Marron, Mokko, and Lucy followed Guildmaster Halloway deeper within the halls of the Culinary Guild. Back at his office, he pressed a red button and promptly left, gesturing for them to follow.

The atmosphere of the Culinary Guild changed. The fragrances of polished wood and simmering tea were overpowered by the sound of pots clattering and the injured groaning as they were carried on gurneys.

They pushed through a pair of swinging doors into a wide, bright kitchen. Stainless counters gleamed under lanternlight. Steam hissed from great cauldrons. Chefs moved like soldiers in formation, their white coats spotted with broth and herbs.

On stretchers along the wall lay five adventurers—armor cracked, bandages hastily wrapped, skin pale with exhaustion. There were spots of blood all over their faces, and Marron's throat tightened when she saw them.

They were barely hanging on.

"Set them down," Halloway ordered. His voice was steady, not raised, yet every chef snapped to attention.

"Cauldrons one and two, prep Healer's Soup Dumplings. The dough should be elastic enough to seal tightly, without any air pockets. Use the soup with goldenroot, cloud fungus, and ginseng shards."

Marron blinked. Goldenroot, cloud fungus—she knew some of those names from the market, but had no idea they had restorative properties. She looked in awe at the commotion happening around her.

I have a lot more to learn about Savoria cuisine.

A human chef with sharp eyes flicked her wrist. Dough unfurled across the counter, thin as silk. Another ladled shimmering broth into waiting dumpling wrappers, sealing them with deft pleats. Steamers stacked high, releasing a herbal perfume so sharp Marron's sinuses tingled.

One chef knelt beside an adventurer whose leg was slashed to the bone. Instead of changing bandages, she unpacked a tray of small, flat biscuits dusted with green powder.

"Edible poultices," she explained to the injured man, her voice gentle. "Chew slowly. The nettle and honey will keep the blood moving. Eat the dumpling right after--it'll do the stitching."

Marron couldn't tear her eyes away as the man, barely conscious, obeyed. Color returned to his cheeks almost immediately. His pulse steadied, and his shallow breathing slowly returned to normal.

"Easy there," she heard another chef as a lion beastkin was lifted carefully to sitting. Her right arm was completely mangled, and she whimpered, pulling away her arm as the chef tried to inspect it.

"Okay. Eat this first, don't panic."

He pressed a steaming soup dumpling to the bearskin's lips. She bit down, broth spilling into her mouth. A glow spread faintly beneath her skin, tracing the lines of her veins. Marron swore she could see the torn muscle knitting back together, slow but sure.

The woman sagged back, breathing deeply for the first time since arriving. "Thank you."

Marron's hands trembled, not with fear, but awe.

She remembered Mokko saying "In Savoria, flavor is power."

Marron thought that just meant recipes so good they made the chef rich. She never considered it as another branch of magic, almost. As long as the adventurer could still chew or swallow their food, they could be healed.

That realization sank into Marron's chest like hot broth on a cold night. She thought of her cart, of fried chicken and adobo, of laughter and comfort. She thought of the lamb stew that had soothed miners' bones, and Sylwen's rabbit dish that wasted nothing.

And now—this. Food that healed injuries, instead of just providing sustenance.

"Flavor is power…" she whispered, tasting the words like seasoning on her tongue.

Lucy pressed closer, her tendrils quivering. "Mar-Mar… can we learn this too?"

Marron's throat closed with emotion. "I… I don't know. But I want to try."

The Guildmaster stepped beside her then, watching as the last of the adventurers chewed through poultices and dumplings, their wounds no longer mortal threats. His weathered features softened.

"This is why the Guild exists," he said quietly. "To preserve the art of healing, of protecting through flavor. To remind this world that cooking is not mere trade—it is salvation."

Marron looked up at him, eyes burning with new fire. For the first time, she understood why the chefs here fought for pride, recognition, and mastery.

Not just for coin or fame.

If a chef wanted to, they could support medics and doctors, in their own way. And that lit a fire in Marron that hadn't existed in a long time.

+

The sharp smell of vinegar and herbs still clung to Marron's nose as the last of the adventurers were carried from the kitchens.

Their wounds had been closed. Not perfectly, but long enough for them to get to an infirmary.

The chef who had crafted the healer's dumplings wiped his brow, the ladle in his hand trembling as though it had carried more weight than a sword. She wanted to praise the chef, but her throat was dry.

Observing flesh knitting itself together after being fed a soup dumpling had shaken her in ways she hadn't experienced before. Marron's hands itched to grab a pan or a pot, the urge to provide support nearly overwhelming.

I want to help. Make things like this.

But in the blink of an eye, it was all over. The five adventures had been taken care of, and were now being escorted to a carriage bound for the next town's infirmary. Gradually, the urgency around the Culinary Guild Kitchen lessened, until everyone was chattering happily again.

Guildmaster Halloway's calm voice interrupted her thoughts and brought her back to the present.

"This way," he said.