"5 gold coins for a waffle iron? That's how much I'd expect to pay for magitech," Melina exclaimed in outrage.

"Do not mock me, girl! This waffle iron is made from the finest materials available in Grenardia region. Not to mention all the effort I put into just the handles alone, not to mention the griddle and the custom engraving. You'll be advertising your bakery each time somebody eats your waffles," Etan retorted, looking almost offended that she thought he was just trying to haggle with her.

However, Melina didn't intend to back away so easily. It was time to put <Gilded Tongue> to good use, otherwise she could say goodbye to her plans. No, she was determined to keep her promise. She would get this waffle iron.

"Yes, I can see that the craftsmanship is impeccable and I really appreciate all the effort into creating this beautiful waffle iron," she praised, and Etan hummed in satisfaction. It was part of negotiation tactics, to soften the person up with flattery—it worked almost every time. "However, at the end of the day, it is a waffle iron. I still need to hold it over the stove or fire to cook with it, no?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"You cannot possibly suggest that a regular waffle iron would be worth just as much as a magitech device," she said calmly, and the blacksmith flinched. No matter how great his work was, it could not be compared to magitech and he knew that.

"Fine, you got me there, but that doesn't change that this waffle iron is the finest you'll find anywhere. 4 gold and 60 silver coins," the blacksmith said stubbornly. That was barely any cheaper.

"Do you enjoy extorting money from orphans, Master Blacksmith?" Melina asked, trying to appear innocent.

"You look well-dressed and fed to me."

"It is only due to Master Gilbert's kindness. Without him, I'd probably be forced to be a pauper on the streets."

"You don't look like the pauper type. Cunning girls like you always manage to find a profitable place for themselves," Etan said, but there was a bit of pity mixed into his expression. "4 gold and 20 silver coins."

"Did I mention that I'm trying to create something that could help our whole town?" Melina said.

"You? What could you create that could help the whole town?"

Melina leaned closer to the blacksmith and said in a whisper. "Have you not heard of the recent goblin raid on our town."

"Of course, I have heard of the goblin raid. Many of our best warriors got seriously injured, including that nobleman with a System," Etan snorted. "But what does that have to do with you?"

"Did you not hear about how they recovered their injuries?"

The blacksmith thoughtfully scratched his chin. "I think I heard Dorian babbling something about magic pastries or some such. But he was absolutely drunk at the time. I'm sure it was some nonsense he came up with in his drunken stupor."

"Or was it?" Melina prompted.

Etan looked at her incredulously and then started laughing. "You're grasping at straws, girl! Enough of this nonsense. If you cannot pay up for the waffle iron, then I'll just sell it to somebody who can appreciate my hard work."

I guess he won't believe me unless I prove that I actually healed them. It's risky, but he doesn't seem like the kind to spread rumors, especially to outsiders.

"I don't have the money on me right now. Would you wait for me if I went back home to get it?"

"Yes, I'll wait."

"Excellent, I'll be back soon."

Melina hurried back to the bakery. Her goal however wasn't to get more money. She didn't even have that much money left, and she had no intention of begging Master Gilbert for it. Not that he'd even consider paying that much for a waffle iron. But she did have a plan.

She retrieved a few of the leftover healing cream puffs from the chill box and ran back to the smithy. It wasn't the freshest as the pastry had already gotten a bit soggy from the pastry cream and caramel, however, its healing ability had not diminished. Not to mention, that Sienna was just as eager to swipe one as she always was.

"I'll give you a snack later. For now, we need to get that waffle iron from the blacksmith," she told the wyrm as she ran, her legs tired from the exercise. But Melina didn't slow down, making it back to the smithy in record time. At least in her opinion.

"Oh, you're back… What is that?" Etan asked, looking suspiciously at the box in her hands.

"These are Sunglow Cream Puffs," Melina announced proudly and showed the contents to the blacksmith.

"I do not accept payment in sweets."

"This isn't payment. This is a demonstration," Melina smiled. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a little voice prompted her to think whether doing this was even wise. While many townsfolk already knew about her unusual pastries, was there a need to advertise it?

No, enough self-doubt. You will show these pastries in order to make something even better.

"Demonstration? For what?" Etan arched his eyebrow dubiously.

"For something that will help the whole Sunglow just like your weapons do," she said. "Could I borrow one of your daggers for just a moment?"

The blacksmith gave her a suspicious look, but retrieved one of the smaller daggers, carefully passing it to Melina. She admired it for a moment—it truly was a piece of art. Light, but easy to hold with its elaborate blue and silver shaft. She wouldn't be against purchasing such a dagger if she had the spare money for it.

Melina took a deep breath and steeled herself. With a clean, practiced motion she cut into her palm. Perhaps a bit too deeply—the dagger was very sharp—blood oozed into her palm.

"What are you doing, you crazy girl?!" Etan exclaimed and took the dagger from her.

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"Don't worry, just watch," Melina assured him and took one of her cream puffs. The blacksmith looked as if she was crazy when she started to eat it, not at all concerned about her bleeding hand.

"Now is not the time to eat pastries. Come here!" The blacksmith grabbed her uninjured hand and pulled her into an adjacent room, pushing her toward the sink. "Wash your wound."

Melina smiled victoriously and did as she was told. The fresh blood on her hand quickly washed away, leaving behind nothing more than a small pink stripe on her palm where the cut had been. She was pleased to see how effective the pastry was, even if caramel didn't have the strongest healing effect.

"Holy System! Where did the cut go? I swear it was there just a second ago," Etan looked at her hand, inspecting it from all sides.

"It is all thanks to my Sunglow Cream Puffs," Melina said confidently. "I want to create something similar using the waffle iron. Something that the adventurers carry with them and eat during battle if need be."

Etan blinked at her in disbelief. "You're telling me that you just healed your hand with nothing more than a pastry? That's impossible."

"It is very much possible with the right ingredients. You can try it for yourself if you don't believe me."

Etan narrowed his eyes and went back to the shop. He also took the dagger and made a small cut on the top of his hand. Skeptically, he took one of the pastries and popped it into his mouth. "Bleh, this is too sweet."

"My apologies. I could try and make a savory version in the future," Melina noted, wondering how she could incorporate the crystallized ooze into a savory dish.

"I can't believe it," Etan stared at his hand, the cut closing right before his eyes.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd keep Sunglow Cream Puff a secret from outsiders."

Blacksmith just kept staring in his hand in disbelief, turning it this way and that, as if expecting for the wound to reappear. After a moment, he seemed to break out of his trance and nodded. "You don't have to tell me that. I'll keep quiet. But how did you do this?"

"Using ingredients from Monster Realm. It was very difficult to get them right," Melina said, avoiding any detailed explanations. There was no need to say that it wouldn't be possible without Sienna.

"Monster Realm you say… And you intend to make healing waffles?" The blacksmith prodded.

"Yes, exactly," Melina nodded.

He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I'd feel like an ass if I deprived the town of something so potentially useful. Very well. 3 gold and 50 silver."

Melina winced. It was a much better price, but that didn't mean that she could afford it. She needed to bring him down even further.

Etan noticed his hesitation and narrowed his eyes. "Still too much for you? I understand that your cause is noble, but this isn't a charity. I'm already giving you my work for free. 3 gold and 50 silver is just the price for the raw materials I used."

"Did you use gold or something?" Melina gaped.

"No, I used the best cast iron available," the blacksmith bragged.

"But I couldn't pay that much even if I wanted to," she protested feeling at her meager money pouch. She had been ready to give up all of it for the waffle iron, but even that wasn't enough.

"Then I can't help you. As I said, this isn't a charity. It's a business. As an apprentice baker, you should understand that."

Melina thought for a moment. She wasn't ready to give up the waffle iron. There must be something she could do for the blacksmith to be willing to part with it.

"What if… I offered to work for you. To repay the price of the waffle iron," Melina suggested.

Etan stared at her for a moment, then burst into laughter. "You? Work for me? With those flimsy arms? Girl, you can barely hold this waffle iron. Could you swing a hammer? Could you work the bellows?"

"Absolutely not. But I don't need to," Melina replied smugly and then coaxed Sienna out of her hiding spot in her pocket. "I have Sienna."

The wyrm sleepily looked around the smithy, a bit confused about the situation. She had slept through most of it.

"That's the ember wyrm, isn't it?" Etan stared at Sienna, somewhat cautiously.

"Yes, and she's very good at producing fire," Melina said. "Could you show him? Light up the furnace."

Sienna blinked her eyes as Melina carried her to the huge furnace which was currently dormant. The wyrm stretched out and yawned first, then lazily shot a fireball into the furnace. It instantly blazed to life, coals igniting to a bright red color.

"Holy System. That's astounding. How hot can its flames get?" He asked, looking… excited?

What an odd reaction! I thought he'd be scared of Sienna, but I guess having a fire on hand like that is just too good of an opportunity for a blacksmith.

"I don't know to be honest. I never exactly tried to see how strong her flames could get."

"Then we'll both be learning something new. I'm sure it'll still save me many hours of getting the fire hot enough. I'll give you this waffle iron for free, but you'll be working for me for a month."

"A month? I can't just leave the bakery!"

"Let me finish. You don't have to come every day. Come on your free days in the morning and one workday in the afternoon. That's three days a week. Not a bad deal if you ask me."

Melina thought about it for a moment. Having to work at the smithy during her free days meant less time for her cooking experiments or any possible excursions to the Monster Realm. But on the other hand, getting a waffle iron for free was worth it.

"Very well. I agree," Melina nodded.

"Excellent. The waffle iron is yours. I'll be expecting you and your wyrm here tomorrow afternoon," Etan hummed and gave Melina the waffle iron.

Alistair didn't think he'd be returning to Fenrora so soon. The tall peaks of the white buildings stretched up towards the sky just as he remembered. But the lack of snow made the place seem almost foreign. Summer was almost here, meaning that even in this winter city, the snow had melted.

"I'm home," he muttered bitterly as he got off the ship. He might have returned to Fenrora, but his goal wasn't a visit home. No, in fact, Alistair was wearing commoner clothes and a long robe to hide himself from people. He didn't want his father to discover that he was here.

Alistair's goal was simple. He was going to find the Architect and figure out <General's Echo>. During the voyage, his nightmares and visions seemed to have intensified. As if the skill knew that he was trying to get rid of it, and was fighting back his efforts.

He'd often see glimpses of more familiar places to him. He saw the vision of his father, much older and looking actually proud of him. Proud. That was an expression his father reserved only for his elder brother and Charlotte. Never for him.

Alistair knew that he should have felt happy and encouraged by the vision. Perhaps in the future, his father would finally recognize him. But it felt like he had been proud for the wrong reasons. Like Alistair had done something horrible in order to achieve that.

But the visions didn't deem it right to show him anything else regarding the matter, instead flashing various unrelated scenes before his eyes. Melina appeared in many of them.

Don't think about her now. You have a mission to accomplish.

With a determined stride, Alistair hurried out of the port. He needed to get through the city and head west as quickly as possible. The less time he spent here, the fewer chances he had to get discovered. Part of him felt bad about not going to visit Charlotte. She'd be devastated if she knew that he was in Fenrora and didn't come to meet her.

Luckily for him, he had arrived early in the morning and most of the people were still sleeping. The guards patrolling the town had lost their vigilance, likely tired from the night watch. Alistair could successfully sneak through the back alleys—he knew the city like the back of his hand. It didn't take him long to get to the gate that led west.

However, that was the most difficult hurdle. It was forbidden for regular citizens to head outside the city without adventurers. There were exceptions, for example, if the group was large enough to keep monsters at bay. But he was alone and he didn't want to reveal his identity to them. It would without a doubt be reported to his father.

But Alistair had a plan. He emerged out of the shadows and headed towards the gate. The two guards standing there instantly turned their attention to him.

"Stop, citizen. Please, supply your identification if you wish to pass through."

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