Luke was intensely curious about what upgrading his cooking would actually do.
So he didn't keep lounging. He got up from the chair and headed into the kitchen.
It was 7:00 a.m.
In the kitchen, Luke moved quickly—but his expression stayed relaxed.
Back in the beginning, getting him to cook even a single meal had been harder than killing him.
But after doing it long enough—after it became habit—he realized he actually liked it.
A quiet life where he could find little things to do at his own pace.
Sure, the "sleep, eat, sleep again" lifestyle wasn't bad at all.
But life needed seasoning.
Otherwise it got bland.
By 8:20, breakfast was finally ready.
Out in the yard, Frey and Vayne caught the smell of warm porridge drifting from the kitchen, and the longer they trained, the hungrier they got.
They exchanged a look.
Without a word, they stopped sparring in perfect sync, sat at the table, and waited.
For some reason, today's breakfast smelled especially irresistible.
Not long after, Luke brought everything out and set it on the table.
He'd made three different hot drinks and porridges: an eight-grain breakfast porridge with dried cranberries and raisins, a hearty oat-and-multigrain soy drink, and a pumpkin-and-pear millet porridge.
For the main plates, there were pulled-pork-and-sausage rolls, spiced beef-and-carrot wraps, crystal-steamed dumplings, a homemade chicken dumpling soup, and honey-butter toasted bread.
The spread looked absurdly lavish—fragrant, colorful, and almost too pretty to eat.
Visually, it was like art. Every piece looked carefully crafted.
Vayne always felt Luke was at his most charming in the exact moment he set dish after dish onto the table.
And every time, she couldn't help thinking: if this guy had less of a mouth, he'd be perfect.
The four of them sat down.
A sharp eagle cry cut down from the sky.
Luke looked up and saw a blue shape streaking toward them.
He lifted his arm, and a heartbeat later, Valor landed neatly on his forearm.
"You really know how to show up on time," Luke said, teasing him.
He grabbed one of the dumplings and tossed it high into the air.
Valor waited patiently as it arced… then snapped his wings open and shot upward.
In the blink of an eye, he caught the dumpling just before it hit the ground, swallowed it, and circled above them, calling out in delight.
That proud, commanding posture—pure predator—was impressive as hell.
Azurite Eagles were among the best of their kind: sharp-looking, powerful, and smarter than most people gave them credit for.
And Valor looked even more striking than the average Azurite Eagle. Supposedly he was only two years old—barely even past the start of his growth.
His future was wide open.
If Valor was here, that meant Quinn was here too.
Luke's gaze shifted toward the courtyard gate.
Sure enough—Quinn walked in, wearing light armor, her short brown hair moving in the breeze.
And behind her was another bright, eye-catching figure: the girl from yesterday, Cithria.
The two of them came in together, steady and confident—sharp, youthful, full of energy. Different styles, both impressive, both impossible to ignore.
"Your Highness, good morning," they greeted.
Luke smiled back. "Morning. Have you eaten?"
Both of them nodded at the same time. "We have."
But as soon as they spoke, they caught the smell in the yard, and their eyes—without even meaning to—drifted to the table.
Quinn had already experienced Luke's cooking before, but even she couldn't stop staring at a spread like this.
As for Cithria, she'd only heard Quinn talk about how incredible Luke was in the kitchen.
Even so, seeing the full table in person still shocked her. Half of these dishes she'd never even seen before.
Like that translucent, glossy little round dumpling—almost crystal-clear—just looking at it made her feel like it had to taste amazing.
The aromas of the food and the porridges blended together and kept drifting right into her face.
Cithria's stomach immediately started protesting.
She tried to remember what she'd eaten this morning.
Two pieces of dry bread and a bowl of lean-meat broth.
Compared to this table—everything bright and beautiful—could that even be called breakfast?
Cithria knew it was rude to stare at someone else's table, so she forced herself to look away.
But…
She was suddenly so hungry.
Quinn felt the same.
She'd nearly forgotten the taste of that stone-grilled meat from the other day, but one look at this spread dragged the memory right back.
Noticing both girls watching with that quiet, pleading hunger, Luke chuckled.
"Sit down and eat a little more. I made too much anyway. I was just wondering who I'd dump the extra on."
Because of a certain little blonde menace, Luke always made more breakfast than necessary.
And today, with his cooking freshly upgraded, he'd gotten carried away. The porridges and the plates were way beyond four servings.
"We… thank you, Your Highness," Quinn said.
She'd been about to refuse, but her eyes flicked to the table once—and that was it. She couldn't resist.
She sat down.
Cithria got pulled into a seat right beside her. She looked stiff at first, glancing at Luke with a nervous sort of respect, then quietly said, "Thank you, Your Highness."
"More people makes it livelier," Luke said with a grin.
Yurna already had the sense to bring two more sets of utensils from the kitchen.
And just like that, breakfast started.
Quinn had never stopped thinking about that stone-grilled meat, so she immediately reached for one of the pulled-pork-and-sausage rolls.
But she didn't eat it right away.
She noticed Cithria still looked a little tense.
When she saw Cithria's eyes lingering on the crystal-steamed dumplings, Quinn smiled and served her one.
Cithria looked at the dumpling that landed in her bowl, glanced at Quinn, then carefully picked it up with a fork.
Steam still rose from it, so she blew on it a few times, judged it safe, and then—out of pure respect for food—put the whole thing into her mouth in one bite.
Her cheeks puffed out instantly, making her look oddly cute.
The moment she bit down, Cithria covered her mouth in a panic.
Juice burst out—savory, rich with meat—and mixed with the soft, tender wrapper. As the flavor spread through her mouth, it felt like her heart was melting.
A look of pure happiness bloomed across her face. Color warmed her pale cheeks, and with that dazed, blissful expression, she looked bright and alive.
Then she suddenly realized her reaction might've been too much.
She quickly glanced around the table—
No one was watching her.
Everyone was focused on the food.
Only His Highness looked over with a gentle smile.
"Good?" Luke asked.
Cithria nodded fast, her face still faintly red, but she smiled openly. "It's incredibly good."
Luke smiled back. "Then eat more."
Cithria lowered her head, thinking to herself: Quinn was right. His Highness really is gentle.
Not long after, she relaxed into it. She started eating seriously, no longer as stiff and self-conscious as before.
And Quinn, Frey, and Vayne all realized something at the same time.
Today's food was ridiculously good.
Not that it had ever been bad—never.
But today it was different. The flavor was somehow… better. Cleaner. Stronger. Like it hit deeper.
And with such a huge spread, nobody even had time to talk while eating.
For Vayne and Frey—still annoyed from earlier—the breakfast was a small kind of comfort.
The food vanished fast.
Watching them eat with that kind of satisfaction, Luke looked pleased.
As a cook, seeing people enjoy what you make gave you a heavy, warm sense of accomplishment.
And Luke could tell: after Cooking hit LV8, everything he made tasted richer.
That thought made him wonder—if he ever got Cooking to LV9, would his food start glowing?
Before long, the breakfast was completely wiped out.
If four people had been "a bit too much," then six people plus one eagle made it perfect.
Even though Quinn and Cithria had already eaten before arriving, they still ate almost as much as Frey and Vayne.
Afterward, the girls all wore the same satisfied, content look.
Cithria felt how full she was—like her stomach had been completely packed with the prince's breakfast.
She looked up, a little dazed, at the bright blue sky overhead.
And thought: she'd really been treating her stomach poorly.
So food like this existed in the world…
It was like Luke's breakfast had cast a spell.
Once they finished eating, everyone sat there with soft, peaceful expressions, not wanting to move at all.
For a brief moment, all the chaos in the world had nothing to do with them.
Of course, that state didn't last long.
Cithria blinked, trying to remember why she'd come here in the first place.
A letter from the High Marshal.
Her thoughts snapped back into place. She stood up, looked at Luke, and got to business.
"Your Highness, the High Marshal's reply arrived from the capital. She also issued additional orders."
As she spoke, she pulled a letter from her pocket.
Luke's eyes lit up. He took it, and with a hopeful feeling, slowly opened it.
"Luke, you little brat,
I received your letter. Your suffering, your exhaustion—I saw it all. You worked hard on this investigation.
I'm very pleased. So… please keep working hard a little longer and see this investigation through.
—Tianna
July 22, 679."
"…?"
The letter was short.
But after reading it, Luke practically manifested three giant question marks in his soul.
What did she mean?
Keep working hard and investigate it thoroughly—what did that even mean?
He'd sold his misery so hard in his letter, and it did absolutely nothing?
How can someone's fingers write something so cold?
Luke was so mad he wanted to slam the letter onto the ground.
That old hag—this was straight-up targeting him.
He'd whined, he'd begged, he'd flattered—he'd practically performed—
And all he got back was one icy sentence.
Was her heart made of iron?
Luke genuinely couldn't understand it.
Cithria watched him turn pale and visibly furious, and she cautiously spoke.
"Your Highness…?"
Luke exhaled and asked, "What's the old hag's order?"
Cithria immediately understood who "old hag" meant, and couldn't help admiring Luke's courage. Calling Tianna that out loud took guts.
Then she said, "The High Marshal's orders are this: due to Officer Kabud's negligence, you will temporarily take over Edessa's affairs. You will command the city's forces—six thousand five hundred city guards, five hundred Kingdom Rangers, and fifty Dauntless Vanguard reserve fighters. We will fully cooperate with you in investigating the missing persons cases and the Wraith Cave incident."
"Also, starting today, Quinn and I will remain at your side to protect your safety."
Luke's expression turned thoughtful.
Tianna temporarily assigning Quinn and Cithria to him was good news.
If he had to keep investigating, borrowing Edessa's resources was necessary.
Otherwise, with just a maid and Frey and Vayne tagging along, he'd be stuck digging for answers until the end of time.
If the old hag wasn't going to let him slack off, then Luke would solve this fast.
So he moved immediately.
He went straight back to the government offices.
Edessa's previous top official, Kabud, had already been punished for negligence. Two ranks down—now he was just a regular officer.
Apparently he was a descendant of a minor noble line. His ancestors had once been granted a barony, and the title had been passed down to him.
He'd fought for generations—plus years of his own grinding—to reach the position of Edessa's garrison commander.
This demotion basically meant his career was over.
And honestly, he had nobody to blame but himself.
When Luke saw him again, Kabud looked unchanged. Just like yesterday, he stood slightly hunched in front of Luke, wearing an eager, ingratiating smile.
"Your Highness, from here on I will fully assist your investigation. Please give whatever orders you wish."
Luke glanced at him sideways, didn't answer, and moved on.
He quickly summoned the city's officials to meet.
In the meeting room, Luke sat at the head position with several pages of written reports in hand.
He skimmed a few lines, saw a mess of numbers and text, and tossed the papers aside.
Then he asked, "Who's the deputy garrison commander?"
A middle-aged man in noble clothing stood. "Reporting, Your Highness. I am Deputy Garrison Commander Dichi Shor."
Luke looked at him and said directly, "From now on, you'll handle the city's day-to-day affairs in Kabud's place."
Managing an entire city sounded like a headache just thinking about it.
Luke only wanted to finish this investigation as fast as possible and then get out.
As for the city's chain of command—if the top slot was vacant, you just move the next person up. The city wasn't going to stop functioning.
Dichi's eyes flashed as he realized what this meant. He couldn't hide his joy.
"Yes, Your Highness!"
This prince might be in charge of Edessa for now, but he would eventually leave.
Kabud—the only boss above him—had been removed.
That made Dichi the highest-ranking official in the city.
If he performed well now, the garrison commander position would practically fall into his lap.
Luke waved for him to sit, then looked around the room and continued.
"You all know the situation. Edessa likely has a wraith mage operating nearby."
"The recent wave of missing persons and the incidents in the hunting forest—where magical beasts have been losing control—are likely connected to him. So to prevent further harm to the people, starting now we will conduct an intensive search."
"Inside the city, outside the city—everywhere. Leave nothing unchecked."
His voice hit the room like a hammer.
Did Luke know for sure whether every incident was tied to that dark mage?
No.
Did it matter?
Not really.
You throw the biggest net you can and watch what wriggles.
Today, he was going to flip Edessa upside down.
Even the roaches in the sewers were getting dragged into the light.
Once his orders went out, the city's resources began moving immediately.
In the streets, the sounds of city guards and Kingdom Rangers were everywhere.
All six city gates were reinforced and tightly controlled.
Outside the city, at least two thousand city guards were dispatched, along with large numbers of Kingdom Rangers—and even the Mageseekers were mobilized to conduct a carpet search.
The city buzzed with rumors. People assumed something major had happened.
Then they saw the public notice about the wraith mage—along with a massive bounty posted by the government.
One thousand gold.
And you only needed to provide a lead.
Seeing that, a huge number of residents instantly transformed into bounty hunters and joined the search.
False reports were punished immediately—starting at ten years.
That alone killed any thoughts of stirring trouble.
Even so, after a full day of tight searching, the information gained was still almost nothing.
But it was the best approach available.
Luke's only real clue was a skull carved with black magic symbols.
And after the Wraith Cave was destroyed, the mage behind it would definitely be on high alert.
Trying to find one person in a region this large was like scooping a needle out of the ocean.
Even the Mageseekers—men people feared by instinct—came up empty.
Their response to Luke was simple:
Everything appears stable. No further black-magic fluctuations have been detected.
And so, two days passed.
After two days of searching, the city returned to normal. The bounty posters about the wraith mage were peeling in the wind, nearly blown off the walls.
People walked by without even looking.
Edessa's skies were calm. The weather stayed mild.
Back in Luke's courtyard—
He lounged in the rocking chair again, yawning at the sky, thinking he'd send another letter to the old hag later to report the situation.
Because the truth was: the trail really was dead.
Around Edessa—Kerr Village included—things had been quiet for two or three days. Nothing strange had happened at all.
In that kind of situation, nobody could do anything.
Once he reported that, he could pack up and head back to the capital.
The Royal Academy hunt had been paused all the way until today, and at this point there was no reason to continue it. They'd have to wait for the next year.
Which meant Luke basically got a free first place.
And yes, he was very pleased with himself.
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