Chapter 3: The Scent of Roasted Duck

  The walk to the city of Oakhaven took another two hours, though for Zeno, it felt like a brief stroll in the park. Barnaby the Merchant, on the other hand, was sweating profusely, his short legs working overtime to keep up with the teenager’s energetic, bouncy strides. The merchant had abandoned his ruined carriage, carrying only a small, heavily secured lockbox under his arm.

  As they crested a final grassy hill, the dense treeline of the Elderwood Forest finally broke, revealing a sweeping, majestic valley below. In the center of the valley sat Oakhaven. It was a sprawling city, much larger than anything Zeno had ever imagined. Massive walls made of pale, sun-bleached stone encircled the city, acting as a sturdy shield against the untamed wilderness. Beyond the walls, hundreds of rooftops made of red clay and grey slate overlapped like the scales of a sleeping dragon. Plumes of white smoke rose from countless chimneys, painting the clear blue sky with thin, wispy strokes.

  "There she is," Barnaby gasped, leaning against his knees to catch his breath. He pointed a chubby finger toward the massive wooden gates. "Oakhaven. The jewel of the eastern trade routes. A city of opportunity, wealth, and, most importantly for you, my young savior, the finest roasted poultry in the entire hemisphere."

  Zeno’s large amber eyes sparkled with sheer wonder. He had spent his entire life in the quiet, green solitude of the Elderwood with Master Shifu. The loudest thing he usually heard was a grumpy bear or the rushing waters of the Silver Stream. The distant, overlapping hum of thousands of people, the clatter of horse hooves, and the faint, rhythmic ringing of blacksmiths' hammers felt entirely alien to him.

  "It is very big," Zeno noted, tilting his head. "Are there enough carrots for everyone who lives there?"

  Barnaby chuckled, pulling a silk handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his brow. "Carrots, potatoes, exotic fruits, you name it. The markets of Oakhaven have it all. I travel across the Nine Kingdoms just to bring goods here, and let me tell you, it takes years off my life! Just last season, the howling gales of Zephyria nearly threw my favorite carriage off a cliff! And don't get me started on the dampness... Trekking through the overgrown jungles of Elvaria to secure this silk cost me three pairs of good leather boots and a fortune in mosquito repellent. But ah, it is all worth it when you reach the safety of these walls."

  Zeno nodded, committing the names to memory. Zephyria and Elvaria. They sounded like places with very strong animals to fight and very strange food to eat. He liked the sound of that.

  They approached the towering wooden gates. Two guards stood at attention, holding long, steel-tipped halberds. The guard on the left had messy, straw-blonde hair poking out from under his helmet and dull, light-grey eyes that looked incredibly bored. He held up a hand as Barnaby and Zeno approached.

  "State your business and pay the entry toll," the blonde guard muttered, stifling a yawn. "Two copper coins per person."

  "Barnaby the Merchant, returning from a rather exhausting acquisition trip," Barnaby said smoothly, fishing four copper coins from a small pouch at his belt and dropping them into the guard's palm. "And this young man is my newly hired... escort."

  The guard glanced at Zeno. He took in the boy's messy jet-black hair, his simple, slightly dirt-stained white tunic, and his wide, goofy grin. The guard snorted, clearly unimpressed. "Escort? He looks like he'd lose a fight with a strong gust of wind. Move along, merchant. Keep the streets clean."

  Zeno opened his mouth, fully intending to explain that he could actually punch a hole through the stone wall if he squeezed his Tena hard enough, but Barnaby quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the gates.

  "Never argue with the toll guards, my boy," Barnaby whispered. "It is bad for business."

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  The moment they stepped through the gates, Zeno was hit by a tidal wave of sensory information. The main thoroughfare was paved with smooth cobblestones, bustling with people of all shapes and sizes. There were men carrying massive crates of fresh produce, women dressed in vibrant, flowing dresses woven with sparkling threads, and even a few individuals with animalistic traits—like a tall man with fuzzy feline ears and a long tail, carrying a bundle of wooden staffs.

  The smells were even more intense. The scent of fresh leather from a cobbler's shop mingled with the sweet aroma of baking bread and the sharp, metallic tang of an armory. But beneath it all, Zeno’s finely tuned nose caught a specific, glorious scent.

  "I smell it," Zeno whispered, stopping dead in his tracks. His amber eyes locked onto a large, multi-story building down the street. It had a wooden sign swinging above the door, depicting a bird resting on a shiny plate. "Mr. Barnaby. Is that the duck?"

  Barnaby laughed heartily. "Your nose is as sharp as your fists! Yes, that is 'The Golden Platter'. The finest eatery in Oakhaven. Come, let us celebrate our survival!"

  The interior of The Golden Platter was warm, inviting, and packed with patrons. Polished oak tables were crowded with merchants, travelers, and locals. Waiters darted between the tables, carrying massive trays of steaming food and large pitchers of fresh spring water and sparkling apple cider. There was no unruly shouting or drunken brawling here; it was an establishment of high class and excellent culinary standards.

  Barnaby secured a table in the corner and immediately ordered the establishment's signature feast. Zeno sat politely, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes wide as he watched the food arrive.

  First came the bread, warm and crusty, served with a generous slab of freshly churned butter. Then came the roasted potatoes, golden-brown and glistening with rich duck fat, seasoned with rare herbs. Finally, the main course arrived. A massive, perfectly roasted duck, its skin crisped to a dark, caramelized mahogany, resting on a bed of steamed greens.

  "Dig in, my boy," Barnaby beamed, pouring two glasses of sparkling apple cider. "You have earned every bite."

  Zeno did not need to be told twice. He tore into the duck with a ferocious, focused intensity. He didn't just eat; he inhaled the food. The flavor was explosive. The skin was perfectly crispy, and the meat was incredibly tender, practically melting on his tongue. He ate the potatoes, he ate the bread, he even ate the small, decorative parsley garnish on the side of the plate.

  Barnaby watched in a mixture of awe and slight horror as the teenager systematically dismantled a meal meant for three grown men in a matter of minutes. Zeno’s jaw moved like a tireless machine.

  As Zeno swallowed the last potato, a familiar blue window flickered quietly in the corner of his vision.

  [Skill Activation: Iron Stomach (Passive) Level MAX]

  [Host has consumed a massive quantity of high-nutrition calories.]

  [Digestion rate accelerated by 400%. Energy reserves fully restored. Temporary +2 buff to Endurance for the next 12 hours.]

  Zeno patted his stomach, letting out a satisfied, heavy sigh. "That was a very good bird. Much better than the river fish. Master Shifu says I should chew thirty times before swallowing, but I think the duck wanted to be in my stomach quickly."

  "I have never seen anyone eat with such... efficiency," Barnaby said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. He reached into his coat and placed a small leather pouch on the table, pushing it toward Zeno. "Here. Ten silver coins. A meager token of my gratitude for saving my life and my livelihood. With this, you can buy yourself a few more ducks, or perhaps some proper armor."

  Zeno picked up the pouch. It was heavy and jingled pleasantly. "Thank you, Mr. Barnaby. But I do not need armor. I have my Shroud. Even if it is a bit loud sometimes."

  Barnaby’s expression turned serious. "Zeno, listen to an old merchant. You are incredibly strong. I saw what you did to that bandit. But Oakhaven, and the world beyond it, is filled with people who possess strange and deadly applications of Tena. Power alone is not enough. You need information, and you need a license. You need the Adventurer’s Guild."

  Zeno nodded, remembering Shifu’s instructions. "Master told me to go there. He said I should look for simple quests."

  "The Guild is just three streets down, near the central plaza," Barnaby instructed, standing up. "Register yourself. Learn the ranks. And please, try not to explode any more trees. The local authorities frown upon property damage."

  They parted ways outside the inn. Barnaby headed toward the merchant district to secure his goods, leaving Zeno standing alone on the bustling street. The seventeen-year-old boy adjusted his backpack, patted the heavy pouch of silver at his waist, and looked down the street. His stomach was full, his Tena was entirely replenished, and his adventure was officially beginning.

  With a bright, determined grin, Zeno marched toward the central plaza. He was ready to become an adventurer.