Too Stubborn to Die Chapter 60

Aaron channeled energy into [ Equal and Opposite ], [ Thick Skinned] just in time to dull Yendal’s punch enough to survive—after being thrown across the bamboo arena.

But she didn’t give him even a second to catch his breath, blinking in front of him and peppering him with a barrage of underpowered strikes, she tore into him.

But she wasn’t trying to kill him. Not yet, anyway.

The strikes came hard and fast, bruising and battering Aaron, but just weak enough to allow him to hang onto life for several, very long, and very painful minutes.

“Yep, she’s definitely pissed,” he sighed as he awoke in the hallway. “Oh well, might as well get this over with.”

Climbing to his feet, he restarted the trial, but what he saw when he arrived made him rub his eyes and do a double take.

Yendal was wearing a fucking apron.

“Wait, what’s going on?”

“We’re baking,” she replied with a glare. “Now, get over here.”

“Y-yes ma’am,” Aaron nodded and did as he was commanded.

With a wave of her hand, Yendal transported them away from the bubbling swamp to a pristine kitchen.

“What are we doing here?” Aaron asked as he looked around at the picture-perfect kitchen. Floral blinds were pulled back to let in spring heat pouring through open windows, cupboards were filled with fancy ceramics, and everything was so damn… clean.

“You know what you did,” Yendal replied flatly as she pulled out a recipe book. “Now, it's time for repentance.”

“Ahh, okay. But what’s with the kitchen?”

She glanced through the corner of her eye but didn’t reply; instead, she flicked through the book.

“Here, this is perfect. Rose Crystal Million-Layer Cake.”

“Come again?”

“That’s what we’ll be making.”

“Wait, hold up. I am thoroughly confused. What the f—” Aaron bit his tongue as he spotted Yendal’s lips curl up.

“No profanity in my kitchen, understood?”

Aaron nodded.

“Good. I need a—”

Yendal passed commands, making Aaron collect every utensil and ingredient needed. And there were a lot of them.

“Three and a quarter tablespoons of baking powder,” Yendal said once Aaron had finally collected and organized everything. Emphasis on the organized. She made him organize ingredients by alphabetical order and neatly line everything up. Even the spaces between each ingredient needed to be precise and equal to one another.

“Good?”

“Acceptable,” she replied. “Now, get a tablespoon.”

She eyed Aaron carefully as he measured the ingredients out, slapping his hand just as he was about to add them to the mixing pot.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Ah… what you asked me to?”

“Do you have eyes?”

“Yeah?”

“Were you overfilling or underfilling?”

“Come again?”

“I asked you to measure. Unless you’re blind, you should know better. That wasn’t three and a quarter tablespoons of baking powder. Now try again.”

“Okay,” he gritted his teeth, but followed the instructions.

Aaron tried again, and again, and every time his hand was slapped away. He could have sworn it was the correct amount, but Yendal said it wasn’t, and so he had to do it again.

Hundreds of times.

It was an excruciating experience. Her attention to detail was beyond comprehension. However, Aaron had to admit he was getting better at, well, seeing. At first, the measurements all looked the same, but by the hundredth time his hand had been slapped away, he could see the out-of-place granules of flour or baking powder that Yendal was so insistent about.

This bizarre experience was actually a strange form of training, and his ability to use his Perception stat actually seemed to be improving.

Realizing that he was actually mastering his Perception, he decided to place his remaining unused free points into Perception.

He had been intending to do it anyway, so baking with Yendal hadn’t really changed much. It was more of a reminder than anything else. But it was certainly interesting.

It seemed that just because you had powerful stats, it didn’t necessarily mean you were making the most of them. To a degree, Aaron already knew this. But there was a strangely profound way in which doing things, even mundane things, with Yendal seemed to bring him to a heightened level of himself.

Still, he felt… uncomfortable. Not because he hated baking or anything, but this felt like it was supposed to be punishment, and yet, it wasn’t?

Sure, having your hand slapped away countless times might sound annoying, but once Aaron realized he could actually get gains from the experience, he was cool with it. After all, a hand slap is nothing compared to the deaths he had experienced.

And well, he was baking with a god. Maybe the gains paled in comparison to dueling her, but this was still an immensely powerful individual, and getting to know her a little better was no doubt valuable.

What made him uneasy was that this was just too easy. Like he was expecting Yendal to crush his head in at any moment, but she kind of looked at peace. Like baking was relaxing, although the moment he screwed up, her face scrunched up, and she slapped his hand again.

On the other hand, it was also just kinda weird seeing a god baking. Sure, the ogre was a cook, but Oozagh’s cooking made sense; it was his thing. But this? This was something else.

“What are you waiting for?”

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“What?” Aaron blinked, realizing he had gotten lost in his thoughts.

“The sugar. What are you waiting for?”

“Oh, right.”

He did as he was told, measuring the sugar exactly and pouring it in.

“Good. Stay focused.”

The cake was stupidly complex. The complete opposite of Oozagh’s cooking. Countless layers mounted atop one another with pinpoint accuracy and filled with a thin layer of frosting and the so-called rose crystals. And every element had to be absolutely perfect to satisfy Yendal.

Even the decorations were measured and placed at perfect intervals. Yendal could measure down to it a fraction of a millimetre by eye, a fact that made Aaron’s clumsy, by comparison, baking all that much more difficult.

Spikes were inserted to keep the thing together, and Aaron was made to ice the oversized cake with perfect detail, not allowed to leave a single bump or imperfection. A task he failed many times.

But just like with the measurements, he found his hand growing steadier, like a practiced artisan, and after countless attempts and god knows how much time, he had created a cake that would put the best bakers of earth to shame.

Of course, he already had senses that were far heightened above an average human, so it wasn’t as impressive as if he had done it before the integration. And perhaps his patience was the biggest test, but still, it was no easy task. After all, he’d never baked a cake before.

Experience rewarded for discovering a recipe!

Ding!

[ Ogre Taste Tester ] has LEVELED UP!

20 → 21

“Huh,” Aaron murmured as he saw the unexpected level-up.

Rose Crystal Million-Layer Cake [ Rare — E grade ]

The epitome of luxury and delicacy. The Rose Crystal Million-Layer Cake belongs in the dining halls of kings and emperors, fit for their birthdays and weddings. Sweet, slightly tarty, and with a depth of flavor few other cakes can replicate.

Provides: +20 to all stats

Side effects: None.

“Passable,” Yendal said. “Could use improvement, though.”

Aaron forced a smile. It wasn’t just passable in his eyes; it was the best damn cake he’d ever seen, but he didn’t want to cop a cheap shot, so he kept his mouth shut about the quality of the cake at least. He still had some questions, as he was very confused.

“How does it give so many stats?” he asked.

He didn’t recall using many buff-providing ingredients at all. The ingredients were all magical in some way, but compared to what he used in the Shadow Trials kitchen, they were the most basic of basics.

“Synergy and precision,” she said. “Not all ingredients work well together. Some even cancel each other out entirely. Others can have multiplicative effects. And of course, precision is required to bring out their full effects. Even slight variations in quantity or quality can turn a Legendary dish into a Rare one.”

“I see…” he said.

Damn, this is crazy! Also, since when and why does Yendal know this much about cooking? He thought.

Her words fit slightly better with what he had been attempting with his cooking originally. Finding the right recipes with the right ingredients to maximize the buffs. He had thrown all that out the window after his lesson with Oozagh, but after this, he wondered if going back to it wasn’t a half-bad idea. The ogre’s path was one of wanton gluttony, and it made things really easy, but Yendal’s was one of making the most out of the least. He was already combining the two in his combat. If he could combine them in his Profession as well…

“Boil the kettle.”

“The kettle, what?”

“We baked a cake, didn’t we?”

“Yeah?”

“So, where’s the tea?”

“Oh, I gotcha! One moment!”

Aaron wasn’t sure when he’d been turned into a servant, but Yendal was in a good mood, and he didn’t want to put that in peril.

Moments later, the two of them sat at a small round table, basking in sunlight as Yendal sipped her tea. Before them were slices of cake laid out on decorative plates with fancy little forks.

“So, are we still fighting? Or what? I’m still kinda confused.”

“I can put a fist through your head if you want me to.”

“No, no, I’m good,” Aaron raised his hands.

“I want to be angry with you,” Yendal sighed. “But… I also can’t blame you. You’ve got a powerful soul, and it makes sense to take blessings from two gods. But it irritates me nonetheless," she added, her brow twitching.

“Ahh, sorry? I don’t really know what I’m doing. Just trying to get through this thing in one piece, you know?”

“I won’t be second to that brute,” she continued, staring off into the rolling green fields dotted by spring flowers. “I don’t need a disciple, but if I’m going to have one, I’m going to be their priority, understand?”

“I think so.”

Having possessive deities was getting a little worrying. But Aaron couldn’t complain with the results. He had entered the trials with zero expectations. Douglas had told him he would get nowhere, and yet, he had achieved so much.

He was still underleveled, and that likely wasn’t changing until he escaped the trials, but he was strong nonetheless. He had a real fighting chance to make something of himself, and that had been heavily aided by the two gods.

Besides, Douglas hadn’t warned him about the gods. No, the trials were meant to be a gift—a boon to those who achieved in the Tutorials. And a god’s blessing was the greatest boon of all. Still, it didn’t hurt to remain a little suspicious.

“Good,” she said. “The path of the Martial God is one of precision and efficiency achieved through repetition and attention to detail. You excel in both those fields, but your methods are being somewhat tainted by that… ogre.”

She said the last word with quite a bit of disgust, but Aaron thought he understood. Having now spent some one-on-one time with both gods, he knew that they were complete opposites. Everything Oozagh did was in direct opposition to everything she stood for.

“Your path is your own, and I have neither the right nor the ability to force you onto a new one. Just remember that while that ogre is strong, he is best known as the god of cooking and gluttony. I am the Martial God. My path has taken me to the pinnacle of combat, to the point where even the System recognizes it. You cannot, and should not try to imitate my Path directly, but make no mistake about who is superior when it comes to fighting.”

“I think I understand,” said Aaron, nodding thoughtfully.

“Good. As much as I would love to give you more personalized instruction, you don’t have much time left before the other Tutorial-takers begin to arrive. I recommend pushing for your E grade in species. It will become easier once both your Class and Profession have reached E grade. It should also give you enough of a power boost to clear a few more of the lesser Trials. You can ask your friend for more specifics.”

“Alright,” said Aaron. “Sounds like a plan.”

“And one final thing before you go.”

She stopped talking, and Aaron was about to ask her what she meant when a screen appeared in front of him that made his eyes widen.

True Blessing offered: The Martial Goddess, Yendal the Empty-Handed, has offered you their blessing. Caution: Blessings are limited by the power of one’s bloodline. You may or may not be eligible for multiple blessings, and consideration should be taken when deciding whether or not to accept a god’s offer.

Accept the invitation to hear the god’s offer? Y/N?

Time remaining until offer expires: 00:00:59

“Don’t make me regret this,” she said.

Yendal leaned back in her chair as she sent her offer through her avatar. She didn’t originally intend to go this far, but even before the ogre had gone and interfered with the human’s Class, she was considering it. It had been a long time since she had found anyone worthy of her True Blessing, and she doubted she would find better than Aaron if she waited longer. It was a slight risk, giving this to him so early, but after watching him for this long, she was certain that he wouldn’t be dying anytime soon.

The offer was sent. It was too late for regrets, and was no longer worth thinking about. Rather, she found her thoughts turning to what would happen at the human’s Profession upgrade. The corner of her lip curled slightly as she imagined the ogre’s face. It was his own fault, though, really.

She had been willing to share at first. The ogre had noticed the human’s potential before she had. That was his luck. She could cede the Profession to him, as long as she got his Class. Then the ogre had gone and messed it up. The path of the Empty-Handed was one of making the most out of what was available—using energy and the body as efficiently as possible to be able to defeat enemies normally beyond their means.

“Energy” did not belong in the Class name. It was almost the opposite of it. And she had the ogre to thank for it being there. Well, two could play at that game. She couldn’t wait to see how he reacted when her lesson on precision and synergy affected Aaron’s Profession. Between the True Blessing and the Profession, the ogre might just give up entirely, leaving Aaron all to her.

Checkmate.