The deeper layers of Valoria told a different story.
Beneath the sacred bells…
Below the prayers and false holiness…
There was another world—The black market.
Dim lanterns flickered along narrow stone corridors. Cloaked figures moved in silence, their identities swallowed by shadows. The air was thick—damp, secretive… dangerous.
Danir stepped in.
Alone.
He approached the same merchant.
The man was exactly as he remembered—leaning lazily behind his stall, eyes sharp despite his relaxed posture.
Watching.
Always watching.
"You came back."
A faint smirk crept across the merchant's lips.
Danir dropped his bag onto the table.
A soft thud.
"Business first."
The merchant opened it.
His eyes scanned the contents—silverleaf, bitterroot, nightshade.
His smirk widened.
"…Not bad, kid."
But he didn't reach for the coins.
Not yet.
Instead— He leaned forward.
Slightly.
"So…" his voice lowered, almost playful.
"What is it?"
Danir frowned. "What's what?"
The merchant tapped the wooden table slowly.
Tap… tap… tap…
"Your business with the oracle."
Silence for a brief moment— Danir's mind froze.
Images flashed—
The girl.
The fall!
The truth.
The disgust!
The anger!
"…Should I tell him?" His grip tightened.
Then— He relaxed.
"No." he thought, as he decided not to tell the truth.
Danir scratched the back of his head casually, forcing a light tone.
"Oh, that?" He shrugged.
"I just wanted to know about my past."
The merchant's eyes narrowed slightly.
Danir continued smoothly— "I kinda lost my memory after that siren attack in Thalassia."
A pause.
Then a small, convincing smile. "Just trying to piece things together."
Silence again.
The merchant stared at him.
Longer this time.
Sharper—As if trying to peel his words apart.
"…Hmm." He leaned back.
The tension eased— But not completely.
"Come on, kid," he said, chuckling lightly. "Tell me the real answer."
His eyes glinted.
"I'll double your pay."
Danir didn't hesitate this time.
He simply shrugged again.
"Then I guess you have to double pay me now coz I'm telling you the truth."
A beat.
Then— The merchant laughed.
Loud!
Genuine.
"Hahaha… I like you."
He finally reached for the pouch of coins and tossed it to Danir.
"Heavy ones too," he added.
"Payment for the herbs… and for not being stupid."
Danir caught it.
Weighed it.
Satisfied.
"Let's talk about something else," Danir said calmly.
The merchant leaned forward again, resting his chin on his hand.
"Good."
A grin.
"Because in this place…"
His voice dropped into something colder.
"…the less truth you speak, the longer you live."
For a moment— Neither of them smiled.
Then the noise of the black market returned.
Whispers.
Deals.
Secrets.
And Danir— Walked out richer.
Not just in coins— But in caution.
After leaving the shadows of the black market— Danir stepped back into the living breath of Valoria.
The marketplace was alive.
Voices overlapped in a chaotic harmony—vendors shouting prices, customers bargaining, metal clanging, children laughing.
The scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and boiling stew filled the cold air, wrapping the place in warmth despite the climate.
For a moment— It felt normal.
But Danir didn't linger.
He had a purpose.
"I can't rely on luck every time…" He muttered under his breath as he moved from stall to stall.
First— A small iron kit— Flint and steel.
He picked it up, inspecting its weight.
"…No fire magic yet. I think I'm gonna need this." A quiet reminder. A limitation.
He paid for it without hesitation.
Because in the wild— Fire meant survival.
Next— Spices. Small wrapped pouches lined neatly across a wooden stall. Crushed herbs, dried seeds, powdered roots.
Danir leaned closer, inhaling. "…Better than eating bland meat every day."
He bought a few essentials—simple, but enough to turn survival into something tolerable.
Then— A small cooking pot.
Worn.
Lightweight.
Practical.
Just exactly what he needed.
Finally— He stopped at a produce stall.
Fresh cabbages.
Bright orange carrots.
Still carrying the scent of soil.
He glanced at the pile…
Then smirked faintly. "Rigor's gonna like this."
He grabbed a full sack without overthinking it.
By the time he finished— His supplies were complete.
Not luxurious.
Not excessive.
But efficient.
Danir adjusted the weight of his belongings as he walked away from the market, the cold breeze brushing against his face.
He wasn't just an adventurer anymore.
He was learning how to live on his own.
How to prepare.
How to endure.
How to survive.
Because out there— Beyond the walls of Valoria— There would be no markets.
No safety.
No second chances.
Only him— And the choices he made.
Danir left Valoria behind—Without looking back...
The towering marble walls slowly faded into the distance as he guided Rigor into the quiet wilderness beyond.
The air changed—
Fresher.
Cleaner.
Honest.
"…Yeah." He exhaled softly.
"I'd rather sleep out here than in that place."
No lies.
No false holiness.
No suffocating presence.
Just the wild.
As night fell, Danir set up camp just beyond the kingdom's borders.
A small tent.
A steady fire.
The sound of crackling wood beneath the open sky.
He sat in front of the bonfire, the flames dancing in his eyes.
Then— He made a decision.
"…It's time."
"Grimoire—open."
The familiar glow appeared before him.
But this time— He tapped the small switch at the top of the page.
The pages shifted.
1st Page: Danir Granger — Level 0 — Cook
A new path.
A different kind of power.
"This will be useful… no matter where I go." He flipped the page.
2nd Page: Master-Chef (Passive) — Unlocks at Level 1. Growth limited to Strength and Intelligence.
"So I just need to… cook."
Simple.
But not easy.
Danir reached for the meat he had hunted earlier.
Fresh deer meat.
Clean cuts.
Then— He paused.
"…I remember this." A memory surfaced.
Warm.
Faint.
His mother cooking.
"Yeah… this should work." He began.
Soy sauce.
Vinegar.
Lemon.
Sugar.
Chopped garlic.
Pepper.
A simple marinade— but done with care.
He soaked the sliced meat, letting it absorb the flavor.
Then skewered it onto sticks.
Over the fire—
sssshhhhh—
The meat sizzled as it met the flames.
Fat dripping.
Smoke rising.
The scent—
Rich.
Savory.
Alive.
Golden brown.
Slight char.
Perfect.
"…Looks done."
He placed the meat on broad leaves, using them as a plate.
Then sliced into it with his dagger.
Medium rare.
Juicy.
Tender—enough.
He took a bite.
"…Whoa."
His eyes widened slightly.
Even without skills— It tasted good.
Not perfect.
But real.
He swallowed.
And then— A faint glow.
"Grimoire."
Level Up.
He blinked.
"…Already?"
Level 2 — Cook
A small smile appeared.
"Guess I'm not that bad."
He stood up again.
More motivated.
More focused.
"Alright…"
His eyes lit up.
"Let's go bigger."
"Landbird curry!"
Now— His hands moved differently.
Faster.
Sharper.
More precise.
Meat—chopped into clean chunks.
Spices—onions, garlic, bell peppers, chili.
Vegetables—carrots, broccoli, potatoes.
Everything flowed...
Like instinct.
"…So this is the passive."
He set the pot over the fire.
Butter melted—
Then—
ssshhhhhh—
The spices hit the heat.
Aroma exploded into the air.
He added the meat.
And a cup of water.
And let it simmer for minutes...
Minutes passed...
He added the seasonings—
Salt.
Pepper.
Curry powder.
Milk.
The stew thickened.
Rich.
Creamy.
Fragrant.
Danir didn't rush.
He watched.
Adjusted.
Controlled.
Like a real chef.
"…Done!"
He set the pot beside the grilled meat.
Sat down.
And took a bite.
Silence.
Then— "…HMMMM!"
A grin spread across his face.
Spicy.
Creamy.
Deep.
Comforting.
It was— Perfect!
Because of that, he didn't knew that grimoire gave him a huge level jump from 2 to 17 for cooking that special food, rarely cooked in this world.
He ate everything. Not a single bite wasted.
Then drank from his flask— And let out a satisfied breath.
"…That hit the spot."
Later— Inside his tent— "Grimoire."
The pages opened again.
Cook — Level 17
His eyes widened slightly.
"…Seventeen?!"
Stats surged.
Power rising.
Growth accelerating.
He flipped the page.
Master-Chef (Passive): Unlocked
Recipes Unlocked:
• Grilled Meat
• Curry
"…So that's how it works."
1st page: Danir Granger—Level 2+15=17—Cook.
BP: 340+850=1,190
MP: 340+850=1,190
STR: 850
INT: 850
2nd page: Master-Chef(Passive) [Unlocked]
3rd page: Recipe Unlockes— Grilled Meat, Curry.
But he needed to be sure... So, he switched back to see his adventurer's jobclass...
Grimoire's 1st page:
Danir Granger — Level 39+6=45 BladeMagus:
BP: 7,675+595=8,270
MP: 13,400+595=13,995
STR: 6,479+425=6,904
SPD: 6,577
END: 16,475
INT: 11,905+425=12,330
Grimoire's 2nd page: Ice Shards Daggers.
Grimoire's 3rd page: Water-Cannon & Fever-Moist
Grimoire's 4th page: "Nature's Touch. Low-heal." (Can only heal minor wounds).
"Nature's Touch. High-heal." (Can heal deeper wounds.) And, (Will be unlock after reaching level 50).
Grimoire's 5th page and the rest: (Still empty)
The numbers updated...
"…Only half transfers."
Danir leaned back slowly.
Thinking.
Calculating.
"That means…"
"If I build both…"
His eyes sharpened.
"I can grow faster than anyone."
The fire outside crackled softly.
The wind whispered through the trees.
Danir closed his grimoire.
A faint smile on his lips.
Tonight— He didn't just survive... He adapted.
After savoring the last trace of flavor from his meal— Danir leaned back slowly...
As the night had fully settled.
Above him— A vast ocean of stars stretched endlessly across the sky.
"…It's beautiful."
He whispered.
No walls.
No lies.
No noise.
Just silence— And the quiet truth of the world.
Beside him, the bonfire continued to burn.
Crackling.
Breathing.
Alive.
Its warmth wrapped around him, pushing back the cold that crept through the night air.
A small comfort— But enough.
Rigor rested nearby, already asleep.
The gentle rise and fall of his chest steady and calm.
Danir watched the flames for a moment…
Then returned his gaze to the sky.
"…I'm getting stronger."
Not just in power.
But in will.
In purpose.
In understanding.
The boy who once wandered in confusion—
Was slowly becoming someone who could stand on his own.
The stars shimmered faintly—
Like silent witnesses to his journey.
His eyelids grew heavy.
The warmth.
The exhaustion.
The peace.
All pulling him deeper.
"…Tomorrow…"
He murmured softly.
"…I'll go further."
The fire crackled one last time— As the wind whispered through the trees.
And under the vast, endless sky—
Danir drifted into sleep...