Chapter 296: Chapter 296 - Flame of the Deep
Atlas stood atop the ceremonial plaza, the newly built stage seamlessly matching the elegant design of the expanding Gacha Haven. The entire area buzzed with life. Hundreds of people filled the open space, gathered in groups with food and drinks in hand, laughter and music spilling into the warm night air.
It was festive, radiant, and alive. So far removed from the memory of when Atlas had first begun. When his island was nothing more than a small, barren floating rock of desert sand.
Now, he commanded over 450 combatants and 130 workers, not even counting his elite subordinates. The difference was staggering.
He stood at the center, with Morganna just behind him. In his arms, Vienne giggled and waved at the crowd, her bright little face lighting up every time someone called her name.
"We have seventy-five standard tickets in reserve," Atlas announced. "I’m not aiming for a Rank-S pull tonight. But let’s hope we get something truly extraordinary within the first forty!"
The crowd erupted into excitement.
The last Rank-S pull Atlas had obtained was Dullorak. And while seventy-five pulls didn’t guarantee another Rank-S summon, no one seemed to care. Tonight wasn’t about probability or strategy. Tonight was about celebration, a brief moment of joy before the next war began.
Atlas drew out ten silver tickets. He helped Vienne hold them carefully in her tiny hands.
"Vienne..."
"Vienne..."
The crowd began to chant. The little girl giggled, her eyes wide and bright as she clutched the tickets.
"Let’s do it, Vienne," Atlas said softly, smiling.
Together, they tossed the ten tickets into the air.
They spun in perfect synchrony, forming a glowing circle above the plaza. Then, one by one, the tickets shimmered with light. Colors shifted, until the backs of the cards began to change hue, signaling the results that would soon descend from the sky.
BROWN.
BROWN.
BROWN.
The crowd leaned forward, eyes wide with anticipation. Wondering if little Vienne’s tiny hands would bring them luck tonight.
PURPLE!
"FIRE!" Everyone shouted in unison. A clean early Rank-A pull, a good sign for the start of the night.
BROWN. BROWN.
The tension rose again. Was there going to be another purple?
BROWN.
PURPLE!
"FIRE!" The crowd roared again.
"Fayaa!" Vienne mimicked, throwing her arms up, and everyone burst out laughing at her adorable attempt.
BROWN. BROWN.
And just like that, the first round was done. With two Rank-A pulls glowing vividly in the air. A great start for the night’s celebration.
Atlas turned slightly and gently handed the little girl over to her mother, just in case. What came out of a gacha pull could sometimes be... unpredictable.
With a steady breath, he raised his hand, commanding the eight brown tickets to open first, leaving the two purple tickets floating untouched for the grand reveal.
Atlas reached out and touched the first purple ticket. The air trembled faintly, the ticket vibrating as soft sparks flickered around it.
Then. Tak!
The ticket split cleanly in half.
Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
It kept splitting again and again, the shards spinning rapidly until a sudden burst of flame erupted from below, roaring upward in a blinding column of fire. Gasps and shouts filled the plaza as the explosion illuminated the night sky.
Atlas instinctively took a step back, narrowing his eyes. The intensity of the pull was unusual. Too wild for a standard Rank-A. Was this... a new character? It had been a while since his last one. The last Rank-A unit he’d summoned was Baldric, back before the Dominion Skirmish.
The flames raged higher, licking at the air before slowly twisting into a swirling vortex of embers and smoke. Then... Something within began to take shape.
A faint aroma drifted out through the air. Atlas blinked once, frowning slightly.
...Why did it smell good? Like grilled meat and spices?
The blaze burst apart, scattering into glowing cinders. From within the fading light, a figure stepped forward through the smoke.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a spotless white chef’s uniform with red accents running along the sleeves.
His skin bore a deep red tone that hinted at something... not quite human. The most striking feature, though, were the tentacle-like appendages trailing down the back of his head, resembling slick hair.
In both hands, he held a pair of wide-bladed cooking knives crossed over his chest, eyes closed as if centering himself after the summoning.
The crowd murmured in confusion.
Atlas tilted his head slightly, analyzing the man’s stance. Then the system message appeared before him.
[You have received Rank-A Character: Orren Marqul – Flame of the Deep]
Atlas raised an eyebrow. "Flame... of the Deep?" he murmured.
A flame user with octopus traits? That was... oddly specific.
The man opened his eyes. Deep amber with faint glowing rings that shimmered like heated metal. His expression was serious, yet his composure carried an almost effortless grace.
Then, with a slow exhale, he smiled faintly and placed one hand across his chest, bowing deeply before Atlas.
"My name is Orren Marqul," he said in a rich, refined tone. "The Flame of the Deep. Master of taste, and the one who shall craft the finest meals this land has ever known. From this day onward, I dedicate my hands, my fire, and my art to you, my lord, and to every soul who calls Gacha Haven home. You will eat, you will live, and you will remember flavor."
Atlas couldn’t help but chuckle. "Yes," he replied with a small nod. "Welcome to Gacha Haven, Orren."
Orren turned toward the crowd with an elegant tilt of his head, his glowing eyes scanning their faces.
"Hey! Octopus guy!" someone called out teasingly. "What can you even do?"
"Are you gonna cook for us?"
"Tell us, what’s your favorite dish? Seafood?"
The laughter rippled through the plaza.
Without a word, Orren raised one hand, and a flicker of red flame ignited at his fingertips. And in a flash, a cooking station materialized from his inventory, complete with a polished metal counter, a wide wok, bottles of seasonings neatly lined up, and a compact fire stove that flared to life with a hiss.
A collective gasp spread through the crowd.
Then, clink, clack! A spatula dropped neatly into his waiting hand... No, but into one of the tentacles that extended from the back of his head.
With fluid precision, Orren began moving. His hands and tentacles worked in perfect coordination. One slicing ingredients with the twin knives, another flipping the wok, another sprinkling spices midair in shimmering arcs of flame.
Tchak! klak! Whishh!
As he cooked at impossible speed. Fire roared beneath the wok, blooming outward in a brief explosion that drew cheers from the crowd.
He tossed a handful of rice, eggs, and vegetables into the wok, and the sizzling sound that followed made Atlas pause.
An aroma began to spread, rich, savory, and warm.
Atlas blinked once, inhaling deeply. Was that... egg fried rice?
The scent was divine.
For a long time, Gacha Haven’s menu had been hopelessly limited, especially under the "Carrot Regime," where nearly everything somehow involved the same orange vegetable.
But now... as the flames danced and the crowd leaned closer, Atlas realized... The dark age of flavor might finally be over.
Moments later, Orren plated the dish with a graceful flourish. The egg fried rice gleamed under the plaza lights. A perfect golden hue, every grain glistening with a soft shimmer as if kissed by sunlight. He gave a proud smile, raising both eyebrows slightly, his tentacles curling in satisfaction.
"Woah... that looks perfect," someone murmured in awe.
"I’m getting hungry just looking at it."
"Same here, I’m drooling already."
Orren gave a courteous bow and stepped forward, presenting the steaming plate to Atlas with both hands.
Atlas accepted it carefully, the warm aroma instantly enveloping him. He lifted a spoonful, watching the soft trail of steam rise into the air. The scent of egg, spice, and seared rice filled his nose. Rich, comforting, and completely unlike anything he’d tasted before.
He brought the spoon to his lips.
The moment the fried rice touched his tongue, Atlas froze. The flavor burst open across his palate. A perfect harmony of heat and savor, every grain infused with a subtle smokiness and buttery richness.
His eyes widened as he chewed slowly, savoring it.
Then he swallowed, and for the first time in years, Atlas genuinely felt blissful.
It was warm, rich, and deep. Every bite tasted like a miracle.
He exhaled softly and closed his eyes for a brief moment, as though floating above the world.
This... this is divine.
Opening his eyes again, Atlas looked straight at Orren, lifted his thumb, and clicked his tongue with a grin.
"Perfect."
A heartbeat later, the plaza erupted into applause and cheers.
Atlas smiled warmly and nodded toward the new arrival.
"Once again, welcome to Gacha Haven, Orren. I hope you’ll blend well with everyone here, and from this moment on, the entire kitchen of Gacha Haven is officially under your command."
The plaza erupted in cheers and laughter once again.
Now then... Let’s see the status of our newest elite subordinate.