Chapter 19: The Sweet Risk of Kindness
Ken's morning routine unfolded like a well-oiled kitchen: check the traps, forage near the riverbank, harvest from the garden, prep three types of hand-held dishes, and set up his makeshift stall just before midday.
He sold out—again—by mid-afternoon. The regulars were getting faster, more eager. Some even asked if he would take special orders for the festival.
But Ken had his eyes on something else.
He wanted to surprise everyone. Not with meat, not with stew, but with something almost no commoner ever tasted—
Sweetness.
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He packed light that day: dried fruit for energy, two skin-flasks of water, a canvas sack, and his bow with a full quiver—just in case.
He ventured deeper into the woods than ever before, beyond his usual safe-foraging zone, past the charcoal-streaked rock formations locals called the Scorched Fingers. The terrain grew uneven, thick with vines and brambles. Still, he pressed on.
His instincts—and his system—finally rewarded him.
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> Seasoning Sense Activated: High-sugar flora detected
Ingredient Identified: Wild honeycomb cluster in nearby hollow tree
Note: Use smoke or fire to extract safely
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Ken's eyes gleamed. The hive was wedged in the hollow of a leaning oak, bees buzzing with a low, musical hum. He wrapped a cloth around his mouth and used damp, smoldering moss to create smoke. It was a trick he'd learned from a trapper months ago—though he'd never imagined using it himself.
With practiced movements, he reached inside and retrieved two large honeycombs, golden and dripping. He packed them tightly in a waxed pouch. A few angry bees chased him a short distance, but none stung.
As he turned back, a distant noise echoed through the trees—a cry.
High-pitched. Feminine. Frantic.
He rushed toward the sound, bow drawn.
---
In a small clearing ahead, he saw her: a young girl, maybe nine or ten, tangled in her long dress, a gray wolf snarling and lunging toward her.
Ken didn't think.
He drew.
Aimed.
Thump.
The arrow struck the wolf's flank, causing it to stagger with a howl—but it didn't fall.
Ken fumbled for a second arrow, heart pounding.
That's when the knight appeared—armor glinting, a flowing blue tabard streaked with road dust. He moved like a sword unsheathed, and in a blink, the wolf lay dead.
The knight turned to the girl, then looked sharply toward Ken—
But Ken was already running.
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The wolf's body lay still, steam rising from its wounds as the last of the morning haze burned away.
The young girl sat in the grass, brushing dirt and leaves from her embroidered sleeves. Her face was flushed, but her eyes sharp.
"You alright, Lady Elira?" the knight asked, wiping his blade on a cloth and scanning the treeline. His voice was calm but firm, eyes wary of another ambush.
Elira looked in the direction the boy had run, still clutching the hem of her gown. "He helped me," she said softly. "A common boy. With a bow."
"More than common if he managed that shot," the knight murmured. "He knew what he was doing."
She nodded. "He ran off before I could say thank you."
The knight sheathed his blade and turned to her. "We should return to the road. Your parents will be—"
"No." She stood abruptly, brushing her knees. "We're still going to the village. The festival's in a few days, isn't it?"
He frowned. "You wish to attend after this?"
She smirked. "That boy was from the village. He's young. Maybe my age. I want to find him."
"And what will you do if you do?"
"Give him a proper thank you," she said, then grinned. "And try his food."
The knight arched an eyebrow. "His food?"
She nodded. "Didn't you smell it? He was carrying something sweet. Something good."
The knight gave a short laugh. "You and your nose."
She turned, chin raised with mock defiance. "If we're going, we'll need plain clothes. I'm not arriving as a noble. Neither are you."
The knight looked to the trees again, cautious. "Are you suggesting I disguise myself?"
"If you want to eat festival food and not draw a crowd? Yes," she said, eyes bright. "We'll blend in. Like commoners."
He sighed deeply. "You're more trouble than an entire battalion of squires."
As he ran a gloved hand down his face, he paused in thought. "We'll need a guide. Someone who knows the villagers and won't raise suspicion."
Elira tilted her head. "Who do you have in mind?"
"The mayor's daughter from the city of Venmere," he replied. "I met her last year during the trade guild induction. She's clever, discreet… and loves getting into trouble almost as much as you do."
Elira's eyes lit up. "Perfect. She can help us recognize the locals—and if she's from the city, she won't be suspected of anything either."
"I'll send a rider ahead," the knight said, already considering the logistics. "She might even enjoy pretending to be a village girl for a few days."
Elira smiled. "Then it's settled. We'll blend in, enjoy the festival... and maybe find the boy with the bow."
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Ken didn't stop until he reached the edge of his village, chest heaving, honey sloshing in the bag on his back. No one had followed him, and no one had seen his face.
But he couldn't stop thinking about the girl—or the knight.
Who were they? Nobility? Travelers? Would they come looking for him?
He shook the thought loose.
He had honey. And with it, he had options.
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That night, by the light of a small oil lamp, Ken experimented.
He crushed toasted nuts and rolled them in warm honey, dusted them with powdered crownroot, and layered them over fruit strips. He simmered wild bitter berries with honey and clove bark to form a syrupy filling for soft-cooked flatbread dumplings.
Then came the idea that stuck:
Honey-Crisp Cakes. Tiny rounds of fried dough brushed with wild honey and topped with a scatter of crushed nuts and dried mint.
They were sweet, sticky, fragrant—and completely unique.
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> KEN — STATUS (End of Chapter 19)
Level: 5
EXP: 60/100
Unspent Attribute Points: 0
Skills Unlocked:
Ingredient Prep (Lv. 2 – 10%)
Fire Control (Lv. 2 – 0%)
Seasoning Sense (Lv. 2 – 5%)
Ingredient Identification (Lv. 1 – 91%)
Basic Gardening (Lv. 1 – 43%)
Basic Trapping (Lv. 1 – 67%)
Butchering (Lv. 1 – 65%)
Meal Preservation (Lv. 1 – 62%)
Food Packaging (Lv. 1 – 55%)
Clay Crafting (Lv. 1 – 4%)
Basic Archery (Lv. 1 – 60%)
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Ken smiled to himself.
Whatever came next—mystery knights, noble girls, or festival crowds—he would meet it head-on.
With flavor.
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