Drip—drop—drip—drop.
Outside the cabin, rain poured down from dark clouds, pattering against the mountain soil and wood, raising a misty aroma of damp earth and fresh greenery.
Inside, the bubbling fish pot had finally reached the peak of its flavor, ready to be served.
Gut lifted the lid—milky white broth roiled within, mushrooms and vegetables rising and sinking in the swirl.
An aroma of pure, savory delight burst from the pot. There was no need for rare, expensive ingredients or complex seasonings—just mountain stream fish, forest mushrooms, and the slow infusion of time—enough to conjure this pot of natural perfection.
Gut pulled the pot off the fire, ladled out two full bowls of the steaming white broth—one for Serie and one for himself.
Then, opening their bag of dry rations, he pulled out some hard, stale bread, broke it apart, and soaked it in the hot soup to soften it.
"You can eat now, Master."
Gut took a sip of the rich broth and smiled.
Though… Serie had already devoured an entire skewer of grilled fish before the so-called "meal began"...
Outside, the rain steadily grew heavier. But within the wooden walls, it felt like a cozy refuge.
Holding a warm bowl of fish soup in his hands, gazing out at the rain-washed mountain scenery, Gut couldn't help but think this rain was actually quite considerate.
Only in weather like this could one truly appreciate how comforting it was to sit by a fire and sip hot fish soup.
Had it been a scorching summer day instead, the whole vibe would've been ruined—no matter how tasty the soup, it would've been hard to enjoy.
"Master, the rain doesn't seem like it'll let up anytime soon. Let's just stay here and rest today."
Gut chewed on some crispy chunks of pan-seared fish from the soup and spoke to Serie beside him.
"Mm—mm—"
Biting into a plump, soup-saturated mushroom, a wave of thick umami and earthy sweetness exploded in Serie's mouth. Only after swallowing it all did she respond.
"Agreed," Serie nodded. "Traveling in the rain is inefficient, and we couldn't reach our next destination in a day anyway."
"Pushing on in a downpour risks getting sick. And sleeping in wet, humid conditions after that? Our journey's not urgent enough to justify it."
"We'll stay here until the weather improves."
As she spoke, her gaze couldn't help but drift toward the bucket—still half full of river fish.
Just thinking about having more delicious fish dishes made her already good mood even better.
After the meal, Gut cleaned the pots and bowls, and placed the leftover grilled fish on a clean plate.
But as he turned back to the still half-full bucket of fish, mushrooms, and vegetables, he hesitated.
The mushrooms and greens weren't a problem—they could sit outside for a day or so without spoiling.
But the gutted fish? That was trickier. At room temperature, they'd start to go bad in six to eight hours.
He had to do something.
Grill them all?
That was one option—but then there'd be no fresh fish for soup in the morning.
Salt-curing them?
That would preserve them for longer, but it was a bit overkill. They weren't staying here long enough to justify it. Still, maybe he could cure some with salt, string them up near the hearth, and leave them as dried fish for the next traveler.
Just as Gut was scratching his head over what to do, Serie walked over, having just finished folding the bedding. She instantly saw his dilemma.
"Dummy."
With a wave of her hand, a few blocks of ice materialized in midair and dropped into the fish bucket.
Then she pulled out a fish from the bucket and flicked her wrist—instantly freezing the fish solid.
Holding the frozen fish, she poked Gut with it and said,
"As a magic user, the first thing you should do when facing a problem is ask yourself: can this be solved with magic?"
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Powerstones?
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