The Last Founder

Chapter 61: Kitchen

After finally finding the time to enjoy her meal, Eva walked up to the kitchen with renewed energy. The moment she stepped into the kitchen, she paused at the entrance. She had seen it so many times, she shouldn’t be this surprised, but it was rather hypnotizing.

The evening rush had already begun. Through the doors connecting the kitchen to the common hall, workers moved continuously in and out, carrying trays laden with food, while the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter drifted in from the packed dining area.

By all logic, the kitchen should have been in complete chaos. This was the busiest time of the day. Hundreds of meals had to be prepared, ingredients had to be processed, orders had to be fulfilled, dishes had to be cleaned, and supplies had to be replenished. Yet instead of the expected chaos, one would find order.

The kitchen itself was far larger than she had expected when she first laid eyes on it. Several rows of cooking stations occupied the center of the room, each attended by cooks and assistants moving with familiarity. Large stone ovens radiated heat to the surroundings, while pots of soup simmered over controlled flames.

Nearby, workers chopped vegetables, kneaded dough, seasoned meats, and assembled dishes with remarkable efficiency. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with rich broths, roasted meats, fragrant spices, and medicinal herbs, creating an aroma so inviting that Eva found herself unconsciously taking a deeper breath, she felt a calling despite just eating ten people’s worth. Crystal lamps mounted throughout the room illuminated every corner in a warm golden glow, revealing polished countertops and spotless floors despite the enormous volume of work being performed.

Dozens of workers moved throughout the kitchen with a degree of coordination that bordered on the unnatural. Ingredients arrived precisely where they were needed moments before they were required. Empty trays disappeared almost immediately after being set down. A cook would reach for a bowl only for another worker to place it within reach before he even looked up.

No words were exchanged, not even instructions were given. Yet somehow everyone seemed to know exactly what everyone else was doing. Watching them felt less like observing a workplace and more like witnessing the movements of a single living organism composed of many individuals. Everyone was a cog in a giant machine and they understood their role perfectly and performed without complaint.

The experience left Eva strangely unsettled. She wondered how mortals could work so efficiently, without any room for errors. It seemed unnatural. This was one of the few things she and Alaric had discussed when they first arrived; They couldn’t figure out how they worked so well.

They were unlike cultivators connected through divine senses or advanced techniques. They possessed no special powers that she could detect. Yet their cooperation exceeded what she had seen among many practitioner groups in this city so far.

Her arrival did little to disrupt their rhythm.

"Hey guys, sorry I am a little late. Tonight seems a little busy isn’t it. Let me give you guys a hand." She wasn’t really late, she just wanted to make her presence know by starting a converstion.

The moment she offered her assistance, she was welcomed with smiles and gratitude. No one treated her differently because she was a cultivator. No one appeared intimidated by the wooden sword resting against her shoulder or the unusual silver eyes that often attracted attention. They simply thanked her for volunteering and guided her toward a preparation station where vegetables awaited processing.

Unfortunately, like she discovered the first time she came to help, swordsmanship and kitchen work required very different skills.

At first, she attempted to match their pace, only to realize she was falling behind almost immediately. While she carefully peeled and prepared vegetables one by one, the workers around her seemed capable of accomplishing twice as much in the same amount of time. The realization was mildly humiliating. She could defeat trained opponents in combat and had spent years refining her swordsmanship, yet a middle-aged woman preparing ingredients beside her could outperform her with embarrassing ease.

What surprised her even more was the response. No one complained or seem impatient about her speed of processing ingredients. Instead, the entire kitchen quietly adapted around her.

A female worker standing next to Eva nudged her gently with an elbow, catching her attention. With a patient smile, she advised, "You should take it slow. Like I told you when you first joined us in the kitchen, most of us have spent our entire lives doing this kind of work. It’s completely understandable if you can’t keep up with our pace right away. There’s no need to rush; this isn’t a competition. We’re here to help each other." freewebnσvel.cøm

Eva nodded in response; if she were of lighter shade, her cheeks would have colored slightly in embarrassment. The woman’s tone shifted to playful teasing as she continued, "Not everyone is as gifted as that man of yours, you know. He’s truly remarkable. Some of the ladies who’ve come for the selection have been whispering about how they wish they could have him for themselves. You’d better keep an eye on him, who knows, I might even be tempted to steal him away for myself! Honestly, he’s the most talented cook I’ve ever met."

Eva opened her mouth to reply, searching for a clever retort, but the words simply wouldn’t come. An uncharacteristic shyness washed over her, and a rosy blush spread across her cheeks, betraying her flustered state. She glanced nervously around, relief washing over her as she realized the other workers were too occupied with their tasks to notice her reaction. Not everyone, after all, was as keenly perceptive as Alaric, who would have caught her embarrassment in an instant.

...

The changes were so subtle she only noticed them after several minutes. She couldn’t help but sigh, ’They are at it again.’

A worker delivering ingredients took a little longer to reach the next station. Another cook slowed his preparation slightly. Tasks that normally flowed at a seamless pace slowed by just a fraction. The adjustment was nearly imperceptible, yet it granted Eva enough time to keep up without feeling pressured. More importantly, no one acted as though they were making a sacrifice.

They simply made room for her, as naturally as one might make room at a table for a late-arriving friend.

"You are doing quite well," said an older woman standing nearby, offering her a warm smile while slicing vegetables with astonishing precision. "Most first-timers struggle far more than this." fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

’But I am not really that new am I?’ She thought with a little bit of helplessness.

What she didn’t yet understand was how quickly she was catching up with their skill level without much effort. If any other cultivator of the same level were placed in the same situation, they would likely give up as the skill difference would feel insurmountable for them. She was learning and at a very terrifying pace. In a week at most, she would fully integrate into this group with seamless precision.

Before she could respond, another worker who had passed behind her spoke up. "Your robe is beautiful. The embroidery is exquisite."

A younger woman carrying ingredients nodded in agreement. "I was thinking the same thing. The colors suit you perfectly."

"Ah, these right? I got them from that Silkfest boutique west from here. They have some of the finest clothings I have seen so far." She replied to their compliments.

"And your hair is lovely," added a cook from across the counter. "If only I had such perfect hair."

’You have been saying that for a whole week now. Should I be scared?’ Eva sweatdropped.

The compliments continued throughout the evening, appearing so casually that Eva struggled to know how to respond. None of them seemed forced. None carried hidden intentions. They were simply observations offered with genuine kindness. The workers discussed recipes, shared stories, exchanged jokes, and complimented one another with the same ease with which they performed their duties. It created an atmosphere unlike anything she had experienced elsewhere.

Most people treated cultivators differently. Some admired them. Others feared them. Many sought to gain something from them. Yet these people behaved as though none of that mattered. To them, she was not a practitioner walking the path toward immortality. She was simply Eva, another pair of hands helping in the kitchen.

As the hours passed, she gradually relaxed. The work remained exhausting, but she found herself enjoying it far more than expected. Surrounded by laughter, warmth, and the constant rhythm of people working together toward a common purpose, the kitchen felt strangely comforting. Looking around at the smiling faces illuminated by golden lamplight, Eva began to understand why so many practitioners spoke fondly of this city.

The accommodations might be free. The meals might be free. Yet standing among the people who made those things possible, she found herself realizing that neither came without effort. The city’s greatest strength was not its formations, its technology, or its wealth. It was the simple fact that so many ordinary people had chosen to build something worth belonging to.