"For now, I've named this divine creature Ayou, taking the first syllable of Agamaggan and the word for warthog..."
"Ayou, my fucking ass..."
Belovar watched his grandson spouting nonsense onstage with a constipated expression. Having just become the grandfather... of Quel'Thalas's richest man, he had decidedly mixed feelings.
After all, such a "vulgar" subject was quite a shock to noble, elegant elves.
Belovar stole a glance at the Sun King, who was listening with great interest, and put away the Seven Wolves belt at his waist.
"Perhaps you still have some doubts about Ayou. Next, I'll demonstrate its value."
Using Mage Hand, Al took an adult Ayou from his assistant Franky's mechanical arm. Without any visible action on his part, the dull-eyed beast twitched twice and died.
He took out a skinning knife covered in intricate elven patterns and dismembered the calf-sized beast with a master butcher's skill. The blood flowing from Ayou's body did not splatter everywhere as expected. Instead, under Al's precise control, it formed a sphere of blood floating in the air.
"Don't throw away the pig's blood. Once it sets, coat it in breadcrumbs and fry it. The kids next door will cry with envy."
Belovar's hand returned to the [Belt of Impact] at his waist. He could barely contain the primordial power within him.
Disgusted retching rose from the audience. After all, the elegance etched into their bones made them instinctively reject what Al was presenting. Yet not another elf left. They all fought their discomfort and kept watching.
A translucent pure Water Elemental was summoned from the Elemental Plane.
"Lowly mortal, I serve under Duke Hydraxis of the Hydraxians..."
"Wash the pork and pigskin. Oh, and remember to scald off all the bristles."
The Water Elemental: ...Oh, it's Lord Al. Never mind, then.
While the pure Water Elemental washed the pigskin and pork, Al produced a pile of seasoning jars and bottles along with a magically modified pressure cooker, as though performing a magic trick.
"Cut the scallions and ginger into lengths, dice the pork belly, pour in the Mageroyal powder, pour in the Peacebloom..." Simmer over low heat for an hour and a half.
Al snapped his fingers, and orange-red flames lit beneath the pressure cooker. Stripped of the fire element's usual ferocity, their temperature was controlled perfectly: neither hot enough to melt the bottom of the pot nor too cool to cook its ingredients.
"Salorian, hurry and stop Lord Belovar. I can barely hold him back..."
Anasterian clamped down on Belovar's hand as he brandished the [Belt of Impact], hurriedly calling for Salorian in the back row.
Salorian Dawnseeker: This scene is too beautiful. Should I excuse myself...?
"We still have plenty of time. Next, I'll choose two lucky audience members to ask questions. All right, you."
Al wiped his hands and nodded to the little girl who had just stood up.
"Mr. Al, that pot is so strange. Why does it have a round belly and a little hat?"
The little girl asked innocently, biting her finger.
Kainar Flamesun, seated in the outer section: Damn it, some brat beat me to it! I have a very important question for Lord Al...
"Oh, an excellent question, little comrade. This is the latest pressure cooker developed by our Sarona Workshop. As for how it works, it creates a high-pressure environment inside the pot. Applying pressure to water lets it reach a higher temperature without boiling. The most direct result is that food stews faster, especially meat that's difficult to cook, such as Hawkstrider ribs..."
Al smiled dashingly, leaving the little girl staring blankly.
"One more question. Hmm, I remember you. Kainaizi, right? Please ask your question."
Kaynell: I feel like something strange just slipped in there.
"Lord Al, could you demonstrate the magic resistance of A-Ayou leather?"
"Of course. Come on up."
Kaynell walked onto the platform with some excitement. Standing before the high elf boy, whose head did not even reach his shoulder, he felt unusually constrained.
"Judging by your mana fluctuations, you're a fifth-circle high-ranking mage?"
"Yes."
"You specialize in fire magic?"
"Yes... yes, Lord Al."
"Have you inscribed the fifth-circle spell Flamestrike?"
"Of course."
At the mention of a spell he excelled at, Kaynell breathed a sigh of relief. Standing before this half-grown child, he actually felt the same pressure he did before Headmistress Faselyn. And Headmistress Faselyn had advanced to grand archmage back in her second millennium.
"Cast Flamestrike on this piece of Ayou leather." Al took the leather the pure Water Elemental had washed and laid it beside Kaynell's feet.
"Here? The power of Flamestrike would..."
Before Kaynell could finish, Al waved impatiently, signaling him to let loose.
"All right, Lord Al..."
Kaynell sighed helplessly, then raised the wand at his waist and chanted aloud.
"Flamestorm!"
As the final syllable of the obscure Thalassian chant fell, the fire elements erupted. Apart from the spot beneath Kaynell's feet, the entire platform was engulfed in a sea of fire. At the center of the Flamestrike, where the Ayou hide lay, scorching blasts erupted from time to time.
The audience cried out in unison. They might have been citizens of the magical kingdom of Quel'Thalas, where even three-year-olds knew a couple of circle-zero cantrips, but fifth-circle war magic was not something ordinary commoners could see whenever they pleased.
Standing at the edge of the Flamestrike, Kaynell stamped his feet in panic. Looking at Al's indistinct figure amid the flames, he was sick with regret.
He sank helplessly to his knees. As a fire mage, he had only learned low-level frost spells such as Conjure Water. Faced with the blazing platform, he was powerless.
"Fuck, why did I have to outperform myself now? I'm really done for this time..."
"If you don't act now, that precious grandson of yours will be burned to ashes!"
The high-ranking priest Fengdelor looked anxiously at his old friend.
"Hmph, best if that little brat burns to death..."
"This is fifth-tier war magic! At this distance, even an archmage would have to avoid taking it head-on. If you won't go, I will!" With that, he moved to charge onto the platform.
"That boy is my grandson. Just watch."
Belovar stopped his old friend and spoke confidently.
"Your Majesty..."
Standing in front of the Sun King, Salorian looked somewhat puzzled.
"A perfect opportunity to see what our spiritual mentor is capable of."
Anasterian watched the increasingly fierce flames on the platform with interest, making no move.
The entire estate descended into chaos. Anselon and his apprentices frantically tried to calm the crowd, with little success.
Just then, the raging fire, which had been crackling a moment earlier, was instantly extinguished.
"That should do. Fifth-circle Flamestrike. Its power was passable, but sufficient for the experiment."
The elven boy bent down, picked up the scorched Ayou hide, and examined it carefully.
Kaynell stared incredulously at the boy in the distance, unable to utter a word for a long time.
A moment later, as though jolted awake, he staggered madly toward the very center of the area where Flamestrike had raged.
"Impossible. Absolutely impossible."
He stared at the smooth ground. There was not the slightest trace of scorching.
"How is that possible? How is that possible?"
"No, no, it must be an illusion! You won't fool me!"
Al waved helplessly, signaling for Anselon to take him away.
With a look of shock and uncertainty, Anselon pulled Kaynell off the platform.
"This is an illusion! What are you hiding?!"
The poor man, whose very understanding of life had been shaken by the sight before him, kept shouting. Before long, two strong elven apprentices dragged him away.
Anselon also soothed the audience members one by one, getting them to sit down again.
It was as though nothing had happened, apart from the charred pigskin in Al's hand.
"I'm very curious. Just... how did you do that?"
As a grand archmage, Anasterian had a thousand ways to escape. He could even extinguish the blazing flames instantly. But he knew he could not end it all the way Al had, as though turning back time.
"Just a little Alter Time spell. Just a little manipulation of its area of effect to keep it from affecting the Ayou hide on the ground. It's just... can't anyone with hands do that?"
Anasterian: Where's my belt?
"But that's bronze..."
Before Anasterian could finish, Al winked at him and made a shushing gesture.
"Your Majesty must have many questions. Once this is over, I'll pay you a personal visit."
The Sun King could only swallow everything he had wanted to say.
Al displayed the Ayou hide, charred on the surface but perfectly intact inside, to the crowd.
"I believe this Ayou hide has already shown you its value. Its magic resistance is beyond doubt. Even fifth-circle war magic couldn't harm it. Just imagine-the road to riches lies right before your eyes..."
"Oh no, the meat's been stewing too long. It's going to fall apart."
Al hurriedly extinguished the flames beneath the pressure cooker and carefully opened it.
Everyone in the audience: Fucking finish what you were saying! We've already got our pants down, and now you're telling us the meat's done?
As Al took out an iron pan, he did not forget to continue explaining:
"What's most important in red-braised pork? The sauce, of course. Earthroot is a must; it removes odors and keeps you healthy. Go easy on the Dragonbreath Chili; it's the best for bringing out flavor and savoriness..."
Enjoying the strange looks directed at him from all around, Belovar wanted to die.
"What a disgrace. What a disgrace..."
Al: As long as embarrassment can't catch me, someone else gets to be embarrassed.
Time quietly slipped by. It was as though a freeze-frame spell had been cast over the entire estate. Everyone stared, dumbstruck and utterly silent, at the elven boy having the time of his life onstage.
"Your Majesty, this is yours. And yours, yours, yours, and yours. Hold them carefully. Don't burn yourselves."
Al tirelessly handed out the finished dishes to the dignitaries in the VIP section, then went to the ordinary seats and distributed more than a dozen portions among the front rows, until his hands were empty.
"Eat! Don't just stare. It won't taste good cold."
Ignoring the looks around him, Al was the first to pick up a piece of red-braised pork and put it in his mouth.
"Mmm, delicious. Just the right amount of heat, plus Earthroot's earthy fragrance. The rich fat melts in your mouth without being greasy, and even the lean meat has such a good chew. Life is worth living..."
At first, Al only picked up a small piece and savored it slowly. Gradually, however, he ate faster and faster, his noisy slurping and munching continuing without pause.
"Gulp."
An impoverished elf who had received some meat swallowed hard as he watched Al wolfing down his food. He picked up his fork with a trembling hand, only to hesitate again.
"Are you mad? This is pork! Pork! How can we noble Quel'dorei eat such filthy... ah, that smells amazing."
"You bastard! That's mine!"
"Give me a piece!"
"Let go, you despicable thief..."
The crowd had initially been quite disdainful. But watching Al eat onstage as though no one else existed, and smelling the sweet aroma from their plates, they could no longer resist and began to feast.
How could those in the back hold back while watching the dozen or so elves in front who had received meat? They all rushed forward to snatch some. The commoners Anselon had just calmed showed signs of spiraling out of control again.
"Belovar, just now you..."
Belovar, the grand archmage with white hair and beard, warily stuffed the last piece of meat into his mouth.
Old bastard. Who was it saying Al was just playing to the crowd?
The Sun King thought indignantly, then turned to his captain of the guard.
Reluctantly, Salorian split the last piece of meat on his plate in two and placed half in the Sun King's bowl.
Salorian: In the end, I bore it all alone.