Deep within one of the most dangerous forests in the Mitreadom region, a group of six adventurers moved slowly through the dense vegetation, their eyes darting nervously, alert to every sound and unexpected movement. The oppressive silence of the place, broken only by the rustling of leaves beneath their boots, contrasted sharply with the forest's reputation: something always lurked here.

  Leading the group was a middle-aged man with unruly brown hair, who walked with a large metal shield held before him. The artifact emitted a white aura, and every few seconds, it pulsed with energy, causing a slight ripple in the air.

  "This is strange," the man remarked after the latest pulse. "The artifact has stopped detecting any dangerous beasts... It's as if we're in a safe zone. Does that make any sense this far into the forest?"

  The silence of his companions was broken by the second man in line: a young man with blond hair, some strands of which were dyed green, who closed his eyes for a few seconds, his face taking on an almost pained expression of concentration. "You're right. I don't detect any animal presence nearby..." his voice cracked, as if he found it hard to believe. "It's as if we've completely left the forest."

  "I don't like this..." replied another member, the youngest in the group, who was sweating profusely from nervousness. "Could it be that we've entered the territory of a forest guardian?"

  The six adventurers were dressed similarly: studded leather armor, reinforced at vital points with metal plates, armbands, greaves, and travel-worn cloaks. However, the uniformity was broken by the man walking in the center. At first glance, he was the leader: he wore a gray cloak over his armor and a white, metallic staff, the tip of which pulsed with a reddish aura, steady as a heartbeat.

  Suddenly, this leader raised his head and inhaled deeply the humid air of the forest. His brow furrowed. "I smell something strange..." he said, squinting his eyes, as if trying to discern the scent more clearly. "It's as if someone were cooking."

  Everyone else looked at each other in surprise.

  "Now that you mention it... I can smell it too," added the blond adventurer. "It's coming from the north."

  Uncertainty swept through the group. In a forest where life was reduced to predator and prey, the mere scent of cooked food was almost inconceivable. It meant that someone had the audacity to light a fire here, deep within a territory where most people avoided even breathing too loudly.

  "Whoever it is..." the man with the shield tightened his grip, looking at his leader, "I don't think it's normal."

  The leader remained silent for a moment, gazing north, where, among the denser trees, a faint, barely perceptible wisp of smoke seemed to drift. Finally, he raised his staff and spoke firmly: "It's on our path, so we'll proceed with caution."

  The six adjusted their weapons, swallowed hard, and continued forward, each step accompanied by the feeling that they were walking into the unknown, especially considering the hostile nature of the forest.

  The group continued northward for a few more minutes, slightly altering their original route, until they came upon a small clearing in the forest. And what they saw there made them stop abruptly.

  In the middle of the clearing, illuminated by the flickering orange light of a makeshift fire, a metal pot was gently bubbling over the flames, suspended from a crude frame of branches. Before it, a strange man stirred the contents with a wooden ladle, as if he were in the kitchen of an inn, not in one of the most dangerous forests in the region.

  The man had ash-white hair, long and unkempt, though he didn't appear old; his face showed no deep wrinkles, but rather a serene, almost absent-minded expression. He wore simple clothes, of such a common style that he could have been mistaken for any ordinary citizen of a local town. His eyes, downcast and focused solely on the bubbling pot, never strayed from his task. He added pinches of what looked like dried spices and salt, tasting the broth with the tip of the ladle, nodding slightly with a satisfied expression.

  "Who in the world is that guy?" the youngest adventurer murmured, unable to hide the bewilderment in his voice.

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  The blond adventurer closed his eyes for a moment, focusing his senses. "I detect no magic emanating from his body," he replied softly. "He's... a completely ordinary man."

  The others looked at each other in disbelief. The air in that forest was usually thick with the invisible pressure of the beasts and entities that inhabited it; seeing a man cooking there, so calmly, was more terrifying than any roar from a distance.

  The group's mission, requested by the highest authorities of the guild, was to locate any signs of human presence in the forest, as well as any evidence of hideouts or encampments. What they had before them, however, was far from anything they could have predicted.

  The group leader, unable to tolerate the absurdity of the scene any longer, raised his voice. "Hey, you! What are you doing in a place like this?"

  The man by the fire looked up for the first time. His gaze was clear, bewildered, almost childlike, as if he didn't understand the hostility in the leader's tone. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied calmly, raising an eyebrow. "Of course I'm cooking my dinner."

  The group exchanged incredulous glances. The man with white hair spoke so naturally that he seemed oblivious to the absurdity of his words. "Your dinner?" repeated the youngest adventurer, his voice betraying his nervousness. "In the middle of this cursed forest?"

  The stranger tilted his head, as if the question were unnecessary, and smiled. "Where else could I have it? I'm hungry, I found a good spot, and..." he tapped the edge of the pot with the ladle, "this needs a slow fire."

  Despite the distance, all the members of the group could smell the spicy aroma of the soup the strange man was making, which contrasted sharply with the damp, musty air of the forest. The contrast was so striking that, for a moment, the adventurers almost forgot where they were.

  "This doesn't make any sense..." whispered the blond-haired man, frowning, feeling that the normalcy of the scene was more unsettling than any direct threat.

  The leader didn't lower his staff, whose reddish light began to pulsate like a beating heart. He stepped forward, carefully choosing his words. "How did you manage to get this far into the forest, being just an ordinary man?... And do you know why there don't seem to be any beasts in this particular place?"

  The man with white hair blinked several times, as if slowly processing what he had just heard. Then he let out a quiet chuckle, so genuine that it threw the others off guard. "Of course I know that... You don't seem to be from around here, nor do you seem to know this particular area very well." He paused and stirred the pot, as if what he was about to say were unimportant. "But we are in the territory of a rather powerful beast, which spends most of its time hibernating. Its mere presence is enough to keep other animals away."

  The adventurers tensed upon hearing this. The presence of such a creature hadn't been mentioned on the guild maps, much less one of such a formidable nature. Everyone knew that few beasts could inspire such respect without even showing themselves.

  "Having said that," continued the man, taking a spoonful of broth and nodding in satisfaction, "to get here, one has to know very specific paths, along which one has to crawl quite a bit. Luckily, one can cross them without being noticed. Even someone like me."

  "What you're saying makes no sense," retorted the leader, still holding his staff high. "Who would be so stupid as to risk it like that? What do you gain by doing this?"

  “Honestly…” the white-haired man shrugged, pouring himself a bowl of soup with absolute calm, “I don’t give a damn what you think. This is a safe place, and that's all that matters to me.”

  The serenity with which the man uttered those words only served to inflame the leader's anger. His lips tightened into a hard line as he watched the stranger take a spoonful of soup to his mouth with obvious enjoyment, as if he were in a village tavern and not in the middle of a dangerous place. But before he could retort, the blond-haired adventurer placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

  "Wait." His voice sounded reasonable, though his eyes never left the man by the fire. "This is unexpected, yes, and the guy is suspicious... but we can't deny that this place is perfect for resting for a while."

  The other members of the group looked at each other, visibly exhausted. Sweat dripped from their foreheads, and their breathing was labored after hours of trekking through the dense vegetation.

  "My mana reserves are practically depleted from using my abilities so much," the blond-haired man continued, lowering his voice slightly. "If we continue like this, we're going to make a mistake... and a mistake here means death."

  The leader frowned, hesitating. Every fiber of his being told him that this man didn't belong in this setting, that there was something fundamentally wrong about his presence... and yet, the presence of the fire and the unnervingly peaceful silence of the clearing were temptations difficult to ignore.

  The leader nodded, and all the members of the group agreed to rest for a while in that place, which seemed safe and free from any animal presence. At his insistence, they kept a certain distance from the white-haired man, who, oblivious to their watchful gaze, continued to eat his soup with complete calm.

  Soon, the clearing settled into a kind of tranquility. The adventurers took the opportunity to drink water and eat their rations, though more than one couldn't help but look enviously at the stranger by the fire, who seemed to be enjoying his food much more than they were.

  That's when one of the adventurers—the most trusting of the group—after briefly venturing into the forest to relieve himself, approached the man upon his return. He wore an obviously forced smile on his face.

  "That soup smells delicious," the man remarked, who stood out from the other adventurers due to the strange, totemic tattoos covering his face. "Is it made with any particular kind of meat?"

  "It's made with spam and some beef jerky," replied the white-haired man with a genuine smile. "It might not sound like much, but when you have an unlimited supply of spices, you can make wonders even with the simplest ingredients."

  "I don't know what spam is, but it certainly smells good. Would you mind if I had a taste?"

  The man's face lit up with a huge, radiant smile, as if he had been waiting for precisely that question.

  "Of course," he replied kindly. "There's more than enough, and I don't mind sharing."

  The adventurer sensed something very strange about the man's behavior, raising more than a few suspicions. But the aroma of the soup was too tempting, and he readily accepted the stranger's offer of hospitality.