Path of the Deathless

125 (II) Commis [II]

125 (II)Commis [II]

Shiv and his orcs broke to perform their designated tasks.

Immediately, Shiv locked eyes with Whisper, and an instant rivalry was born. Shiv pulled out Halspur’s Perfect-Edged Chef’s Knife and a bone dagger. Meanwhile, Whisper gestured with one of his glowing blades and summoned a swarm more from the depths of his billowing midnight robes. The summoned blades danced around him, flowing to the movements of the blades like an orchestra would obey a conductor.

Shiv and Whisper briefly circled each other before breaking and moving to the opposite ends of the basilisk.

“Is walking around each other like two stray cats truly necessary?” Uva deadpanned.

“Yes,” Shiv said, finally ending his turn and backing away from Whisper.

“Not doing this affects the cooking,” Whisper replied, never taking his eyes off Shiv.

"What is even happening anymore?" Adam muttered off to the side.

"What is happening," Uva began, "is that you might be getting replaced as Shiv's favorite companion."

"What?" Adam asked, frowning at Uva. "By these orcs? Impossible. And also, I'm not his favorite companion. That's not where we are." The Gate Lord fell silent as he went back to staring at Shiv and Whisper. Then, his frown deepened. "Do you actually mean that, or were you just making fun of me, Uva?”

She eyed him with a flat stare that turned into a look of pity. “Oh, Adam.”

“What? What?”hing, but risking the food over ego? That was unacceptable.

But before that, he needed to finish showing this orc how things were properly cut.

Yet, even as with time frozen, his daggers glowed with the same hue as Whisper’s flying knives.

Shiv just scoffed. “Like that’s going to stop me. Fine. Take my knives. I’ll do this the way.”

He summoned the power of his Biomancy and immediately flayed his skin clean off his entire body. Pain consumed Shiv, but after all he'd endured the past few days, he barely grunted. He poured that injury into a Woundeater and then unleashed it into the basilisk as a spell. At once, its scales detached with a rippling shudder.

The faintest cracks formed on his shell.

He conjured lacerations thereafter. The Chef Unwavering allowed him to tune the scope and severity of the cuts while his Biomancy showed him where to unleash the slices. Not having Deepest Edge made this harder, but still, he relished the challenge as he unleashed spell after spell into the massive serpent. A neat grid formed across its body as Shiv cleaved it apart with magic rather than steel. He glided through the air, spiking his gravitic field faster and faster to buy himself more time, surging his Reflexes. Inertial Overdrive thundered around him, and Shiv felt himself grow faster. With Plaguefueled boosting his physical attributes to an absurd degree, he shot past fifty spikes before his marrow began combusting within his bones. Even then, his flesh was slow to tear.

Woundeater > 90

The drunkenness threatened to overtake him at several points without Uva keeping it at bay, but The Chef Unwavering kept him from the edge, and his Psychomancy did just a bit more to center his focus.

Soon, he was gliding beside the orc, finishing the slices on Whisper’s end as well. As he concluded his cuts, Shiv glared down at the orc and let time flow—just as his temporal shell nearly shattered.

Whisper’s blades stabbed down, but they were dragged out of position as Shiv plucked the basilisk’s scales clean from its body and extracted its organs from its open mouth thereafter. The scales were flung into Whisper—but phased through him as he activated his Dimensionality Skill. Even so, as the massive swath of gleaming outer skin finished passing through the orc, his eyes widened, and he stared in awe as Shiv extracted the basilisk’s skeleton with a gesture. The Deathless pulled every bone in the basilisk’s body between its split flesh without displacing any of the meat.

The Chef Unwavering 57 > 59

The cuts Shiv made were delicate. . Unwavering. The bones hovered in the air for a moment, and then they were dropped beside Whisper as a statement. When the skeleton impacted the ground, Shiv slammed down as well.

“Clean this,” Shiv said, pointing at the skeleton. “Move it somewhere else and come back. You’re done with the cutting. You support everyone else, you understand? You’re not commis anymore. You’re just a helper. You’re lucky I let you stay here at all.”

Whisper’s eyes widened in surprise as he sensed Shiv’s genuine anger. “I… Yes, chef. Of course. But—”

“Facing off against each other is one thing. But risking the dish is shit I will not abide. You have the skill, but you’re not the chef. You disrespected me and yourself when you pulled the trick with my blade. If the cut went wrong, the basilisk would be split, and the cuts wouldn’t be right. In my kitchen, we do things right. No fuck-ups. And that includes you. Cleaning duty. Apron off.”

Dread Aura 93 > 94

Whisper’s mouth fell open, but Mortar interrupted him with a loud laugh. The pan before the large orc was white-hot now. “You always did like that underhanded shit too much. Told you. Told you he wouldn’t appreciate it always. But you don’t listen. Always think you’re smarter than the humans. Or me.”

The midnight-robed orc let out a slight grunt of discomfort and bowed. “I… Apologize, Chef.” He handed over his blades in response. “Here. Take these—”

Shiv shook his head. “I don’t want that. Those are your knives. I want you to clean the kitchen and do what the other orcs tell you to.”

Whisper looked uncomfortable. “Everything they tell me?”

“Oh, shit,” Tequila said, rubbing his hands. “Someone’s been demoted to assistant.”

“Within reason,” Shiv said. “Now. Bones. And then support. Mortar!” he called out, turning away from Whisper. The stealthy orc almost looked ashamed. “Pan’s ready?”

“Aye, Chef. Come here and see for yourself.”

“Good. Band—” And to Shiv’s surprise, he saw a small army of air dimensionals circling the air, bearing the ingredients for the side dish in their grasp. Cauliflower, mushrooms, and glass peppers formed a whirlwind in the sky. There, at the eye of the food storm, was Band, hovering and playing his music. From his bow then came flashes of flame as fire dimensionals combusted into existence beneath the air. They unleashed their flames upward in bursts that splashed through the vegetables, and slowly, every single ingredient was being seared and prepared at once.

Shiv’s The Chef Unwavering Skill showed him just how well they were being cooked. The heat of the flames kissing the mushrooms wasn’t the same as that which coalesced over the cauliflower. Somehow, Band was adjusting and focusing the temperature and reactions of his dimensionals—and he fixed Shiv with a proud stare as he did.

“Alright,” Shiv said, slightly impressed. “Good leadership. Good eye. But I’ll see you on the skillet soon.”

“Skillet.” Band growled. “Make. Food. Good. Or. You. Are. Shit.”

The Deathless bared his teeth and removed the bone armor around his torso. He wanted to feel the heat more; he wasn’t going to half ass anything with Band.

“Mortar! Keep the grill going.”

“Aye, Chef.” Mortar chuckled. He offered Band a quick glance. “Looks like we got ourselves a showdown, Tequila.”

“My mithril’s on Band,” Tequila said. Somehow, and from somewhere, the orc managed to find a large lump of gelatinous rice. He was now mixing it in a water-filled barrel for some reason. “He’s got a spell for everything.”

“Heh.” Mortar grinned at Shiv. “I don’t know. I think our new Insul’s going to take more than spell to put away.”