Last night's dinner was a masterpiece.
I slept like a man who had just eaten his way into enlightenment with soft dreams, warm belly, no monster attacks. Truly, heaven.
Unfortunately, heaven has a checkout time.
The next morning, I was back at the Adventurer Guild, sitting in front of Ailock's desk, flipping through a few possible quests. He was explaining something about "low-tier dungeon runs" and "monster population control," and I was nodding along like a student pretending to understand math.
Then suddenly…
BANG BANG BANG!
Someone pounded on the office door so hard that even Ailock jumped.
"Guildmaster! Sir!" the receptionist's muffled voice cracked with panic.
Ailock groaned, rubbing his temples. "If this is about another merchant losing his cart-"
"No, sir! It's, it's the prince! Prince Freckles! He's outside with fifty guards and, uh…"
There was a pause.
"...Two very large cages."
I blinked.
"...Cages?"
Ailock's face was drained of color.
"Oh no."
By the time we stepped outside, half the guild had gathered to watch.
The street was lined with armored soldiers. In the center of it all stood that same royal brat I'd met before, the Prince Freckles, dressed in bright velvet like someone who'd lost a fight with a curtain store.
Behind him, two iron cages gleamed under the sunlight.
I sighed. Not again. This brat doesn't take no for an answer.
"You there!" the prince barked, pointing directly at me like he was calling for his missing pet. "Hand over your familiars immediately!"
I blinked.
"...You mean Tweety and Shiro?"
"Obviously!" he snapped. "Creatures of that caliber belong to royalty! They are far too noble to be wasted on-" he gave me a once-over "-someone like you!"
I sighed again, already feeling a headache blooming.
"Oh great, another morning ruined by stupid."
Beside me, Ailock's mustache twitched dangerously.
"Your Highness," he began, voice steady but stern, "the Adventurer Guild operates independently of royal authority. Divine beings choose their masters. You have no jurisdiction here."
The prince's face twisted, somewhere between disbelief and tantrum.
"How dare you speak to me like that! I am a prince!"
"Then act like one," Ailock muttered under his breath.
I couldn't help it, I snorted. Quietly. It was a big mistake.
The prince whirled on me.
"You! Surrender the creatures, or I'll have you thrown in the dungeon for treason!"
I stared at him for a long second.
"...You want to arrest me because my pets like me more than you?"
The prince puffed up like an angry pigeon.
"They're not pets, they're assets of the crown!"
Ailock pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Your Highness, with all due respect, if you provoke those familiars, this entire street might become lava and ice shards."
The prince waved his hand dismissively.
"Empty threats. They will obey once their current owner is-"
He never finished that sentence because right then, the air shimmered with heat behind me.
"Owner?" Tweety's voice boomed, every syllable rumbling like molten thunder.
The entire street went silent.
Then came a chill, sharp enough to freeze the tips of my hair.
"Asset?" Shiro's voice followed, low and dangerous.
The prince turned pale.
I sighed.
"...Well. There goes my peaceful morning."
Okay. So. One moment, I was politely refusing royal theft. Then my familiars decided it was time to stage a straight refusal.
And by "straight," I mean direct to the point NO"
Shiro stepped forward first, his fur bristling as his small form shimmered and expanded. In a flash of light, the tiny snow kitten was gone and replaced by a massive white tiger, tall enough to block out the morning sun.
His paws hit the cobblestone with a low, earth-shaking THUD. Frost spidered out instantly, crawling along the ground like living veins of ice.
Beside him, Tweety spread his wings.
Feathers of pure gold shimmered, and in one powerful beat, he grew to his true size, his divine firebird form, radiant and terrifying all at once.
I felt the heat hit my face even though I was standing behind them.
Ailock just whispered a very quiet, "...oh no."
The prince's smug face evaporated.
He stumbled back, falling straight on his royal butt as his guards drew swords that immediately started freezing.
Shiro let out a low growl that vibrated through the street. The air dropped twenty degrees. Frost spread until half the cobblestone road gleamed white.
The guards trembled. One brave (or stupid) soul tried to run but slipped, spun, and landed flat on his back. Another followed. Same result. It was basically an ice-skating show of failure.
"Run, you fools!" someone yelled.
"I can't! My armor's stuck to the ground!"
I just… stood there. Half horrified. Half impressed. Mostly questioning these knights' choices.
Tweety flared his wings, and the street exploded with light. A plume of fire shot skyward, melting the cages the prince had brought. Iron bars twisted and crumbled like sugar.
"You dare," Tweety's voice boomed, echoing like thunder through the air, "call us royal property?"
The flames danced around his wings, his eyes burning bright as twin suns.
"No human, especially one with delusions of grandeur, shall ever use us for selfish gain!"
The prince squeaked. Actually squeaked.
It was kind of satisfying.
Tweety tilted his head, his glare focusing on the trembling royal.
"And you, Prince Freckles…"
The name came out like a joke.
"You were your parents' least favorite, were you not? Are you trying to impress them by offering us? Desperate fool!"
The prince's jaw dropped.
"H-how did you-?!"
"I know the likes of you," Tweety thundered.
The guards collectively decided this was above their pay grade.
Then, just to make sure his point landed, Tweety let loose a stream of flame not at them, but beside them scorching the ground so fiercely that it left molten streaks of stone in its wake.
"If you insist on your arrogance," Tweety said, voice low and trembling with fury, "I shall burn your palace to ash."
The silence that followed could've frozen lava.
The prince, pale and shaking, scrambled to his feet and shouted,
"R-retreat! RETREAT!!"
Fifty terrified soldiers tried to turn around at once, slipping and sliding across Shiro's frost field like panicked penguins.
I sighed, rubbing my face.
"Great. Now I'm public enemy number one and the reason for a national crisis."
Ailock just sighed.
"They can't touch you. I will make sure of that, Avery."
Behind us, Shiro gave a rumbling huff and shrank back down to his small form, hopping lightly onto my shoulder as if nothing happened. Tweety followed, feathers glowing faintly as he perched atop my other shoulder.
"Problem solved," Tweety said proudly.
"'Solved' is a strong word," I muttered, staring at the melted road. "We might need to move cities again."
Shiro flicked his tail lazily.
"At least he won't bother you again."
"Yeah," I sighed. "Because they'll be too busy rebuilding their ego and probably the street."
(Third Person POV)
Ailock had lived through many things as Guildmaster. Monster stampedes. Rogue mages. Adventurers who thought they were stronger than slimes.
But nothing, nothing, prepared him for explaining to the King and Queen why half of Rayseer's southern road was now a frozen skating rink scorched with phoenix fire.
He walked toward the castle with the heavy steps of a man reconsidering his career choices.
The new King, Alexander, and his wife, Queen Francheska, sat on matching thrones inside the audience chamber. Their posture was perfect. Their expressions are calm.
This in itself was strange, considering the previous king had been dethroned for:
Reckless summoning of heroes, questionable political decisions and creating multi-world chaos that scholars were still cleaning up
In comparison, the new rulers actually cared about avoiding disasters.
Ailock silently prayed they would maintain that attitude.
Ailock bowed.
"Your Majesties, thank you for granting this urgent audience."
Alexander nodded.
"We heard there was… an incident."
Francheska's eyes narrowed slightly, the kind of look that suggested she had already predicted this conversation would give her a migraine.
Before Ailock could begin, the chamber doors opened again and Prince Freckles stumbled.
The middle prince froze when he saw Ailock, his face turning pale enough to pass as freshly washed laundry.
His parents watched him with identical, unimpressed expressions.
Ailock cleared his throat delicately.
"Your Majesties… regarding your son."
Alexander sighed. "Which one?"
"The one present."
Francheska pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Of course."
Ailock launched into the report with the tone of a man narrating a very embarrassing bedtime story.
"Ahem. A traveler named John Avery, an otherworlder, yes, but not a hero, has recently become a member of our guild. An ordinary human. Except…" He hesitated.
Alexander leaned forward.
"Except?"
"…He has tamed two divine beasts. The Phoenix and white Tiger."
A long silence followed.
The Queen blinked.
"An ordinary human?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"And two divine beasts?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Ailock opened his mouth, then closed it.
"…He probably tamed them?"
Another silence.
Even the guards shifted uncomfortably.
Alexander rubbed his temples.
"Continue."
"Yes. Well… your son attempted to claim these familiars as royal property. Forcefully."
Francheska's lips twitched, not in amusement.
"And," Ailock continued carefully, "that action greatly angered the beasts. The phoenix nearly incinerated fifty guards. The tiger froze the entire road. Both issued… ah… 'warnings' about what would happen if provoked further."
The king slowly turned toward his middle son.
Prince Freckles swallowed hard, staring at the floor as if begging it to swallow him.
The chamber doors opened again, and Crown Prince Leandro entered with calm, collected, and radiating "responsible older brother" energy.
He took one look at Freckles.
Then shook his head slowly, like someone who had seen this pattern far too many times.
"Again?" he sighed.
Freckles sputtered.
"I-I only wanted Mother and Father to look at me for once! Not at you! You're always the favorite!"
A long, uncomfortable silence fell.
Everyone in the room, including the guards, wished to be anywhere else.
Ailock cleared his throat loudly before the royal drama could escalate.
"With respect, Your Majesties," he said firmly, "the Adventurer Guild will not involve itself in royal family matters. However…"
His voice darkened slightly.
"…for the sake of the city and the safety of the kingdom I strongly advise you to leave Mr. John Avery alone. And, more importantly, his familiars."
He bowed.
"If those divine beasts are provoked again… Rayseer may not survive a full outburst."
King Alexander swallowed hard.
Queen Francheska straightened, her expression now deadly serious.
Crown Prince Leandro nodded in agreement.
Prince Freckles slowly slid behind a pillar as if attempting to vanish from existence.
Ailock took this as his cue to leave.
He wanted breakfast. And a vacation.
Preferably far from divine beasts and emotionally unstable royalty.
****
(Tweety- Infinite fire bird)
There were very few things in this world that could surprise Phoenix of the Infinite Flame, one of the Eight Divine Beasts born at the dawn of the mortal era.
He had seen kingdoms rise, fall, explode, freeze, and occasionally turn into mushroom forests due to magical mishaps. He had witnessed gods in their tantrums, mortals in their delusions, and entire armies burn because they thought fireproof shields were a good investment.
But when it comes to food, it has never been impressive.
As the eternal servant and companion of Goddess Agni, the Flame Sovereign, eating was… simply a requirement. It's like sweeping floors or breathing. Necessary, but hardly thrilling.
Most meals in his long, long, infinitely long life were:
Raw meat, slightly raw meat and heavily roasted meat. Meat he roasted himself out of boredom
And on rare occasions, if he was feeling adventurous, he would roast something twice.
Roasted flesh was "tolerable," as he often said. A dignified "eh," if one wished to grade it.
He was content. Food was survival..Survival was routine..Routine was eternal.
Such was life.
Until that day.
He had just been reborn, his flames renewed and feathers pristine when he sensed it.
The movement in his forest.
No mortal ever entered his domain willingly..The divine understood boundaries..The wise avoided uninvited death.
Who is this human?
This human arrived riding what could only be described as…
A ridiculous contraption.
With two wheels no help from an animal, not even magic aura. And yet it moved.
"Ah," Tweety thought, observing the wobbly creature approach,
"another human inventing foolishness."
The human looked terrified, eyes wide, legs trembling, clutching his strange metal steed as if it were his only lifeline.
Tweety found him amusing.
He shrank himself down into his small bird form, elegant, discreet, and ideal for surprising mortals, and prepared to swoop down dramatically.
Suddenly, something happened. Something unforgivable and impossible. A scent reached him.
A scent that struck directly into the deepest part of his spirit and the part that remembered hunger not as a necessity, but as desire.
A scent so intoxicating that his divine stomach rumbled.
"Impossible," he whispered to himself, scandalized. "I do not respond to mortal food."
But he inhaled again.
The smell was foreign. Utterly unfamiliar.
A creation no hunter, no noble, or priest had ever served him.
It carried heat, spice, smoke, and something… sinful.
Tweety froze midair.
His wings stiffened.
His dignity cracked.
"What is this… aroma? "What mortal dish has the right-THE AUDACITY- to smell this divine?"
Even more shocking:
It was coming from the terrified human.
From the bizarre metal beast strapped the back of his two wheel toy.
From inside a box.
Frst time in hundreds of years, Tweety felt something he never felt toward food before:
Anticipation.
His flames flickered.
His eyes sharpened.
His stomach growled like a volcanic beast awakening.
He descended silently, landing on a branch above the human, unable to tear his gaze away.
The divine flamebird, eater of armies, servant of god Agni, was captivated.
By a meal. A mortal meal.
"Who are you," Tweety wondered,
"And what otherworldly treasure have you brought into my forest?"
It would be the beginning of a bond he did not expect… A bond sealed not by fate, nor prophecy…
But by the smell of pizza.
****
(Shiro- Frost Master Tiger)
In the far northern peaks where storms never slept and snow piled higher than castle towers, lived the Frost Tiger, one of the Eight Divine Beasts.
A being feared by armies. Respected by spirits. And utterly, absolutely…bored.
Shiro had eaten raw meat for centuries.
And at first, it was glorious.
Ice Boar? Delicious.
Snow Stag? Refreshing.
Frozen Mountain Ox? A crunchy delicacy.
But after thousands of years, raw meat was no longer a meal. It was a task.
He would hunt, sigh, take a bite, sigh again, drag it home, sigh louder, swallow it, sigh dramatically, and crawl back into his cave.
Even he wasn't sure if he was tired of food or just tired of existing.
But then, one rumor changed everything.
A whisper carried by snow
lizards, tiny creatures living in his cave.
"Fenrir has found a human who cooks food."
A human who cooked? Fenrir, the most annoying beast of all, the arrogant wind wolf who thought he was peak perfection had obtained a personal chef?
Shiro's eyes widened. His mouth watered.
And worst of all…
"Fenrir gets good food before me?"
Unacceptable..Blasphemous..Personally offensive.
His pride wouldn't allow it.
Determined, Shiro embarked toward the East, where rumor said Fenrir traveled with his human.
Unfortunately, Fenrir was:
Fast, unreasonably fast, unfairly fast and probably cheating
By the time Shiro reached each town, Fenrir and his human were already gone.
The Frost Tiger growled at the wind.
"Show-off wolf…"
He loathed Fenrir's speed, his ego, and his habit of looking down on everyone like some spiritually enlightened house pet.
After a full day of chasing nothing, Shiro finally turned around to go home, frustrated and hungry.
That's when it happened.
A scent dances its way to his nose. A glorious, warm, sinful aroma that sliced through the cold wind like sunlight breaking through snow clouds.
Shiro stopped mid-run. His paws froze mid-air. He nearly face-planted into the forest floor.
"What… what is this divine scent…?"
It wasn't Ice Boar.
It wasn't Mountain Stag.
It wasn't anything he knew.
This smell was alive. It was sweet, savory, crackling and melting. It was calling him.
He sniffed the air once. Then again..Then ten more times like a starving cat.
Without a second thought, he shrank into his small kitten form, the one perfect for sneaking and followed the scent through the underbrush, tail flicking impatiently.
Hiding in a bush, he peered at the scene ahead.
There was a human and a small bird perched on the human's shoulder.
Except…That was not just a bird.
That was Phoenix, the Infinite Firebird.
The prideful, dangerous and legendarily anti-human.
And yet…Phoenix was sitting there, happily chatting with the human, looking
content.
Even worse, Phoenix was staring at a reddish-brown chunk of roasted meat with the reverence of someone greeting the gods.
Shiro's eyes widened.
"Impossible… Phoenix hates mortals. Why is he… smiling?"
He didn't even know his own mouth was watering until a drop of drool hit the leaf under him.
At that moment, the human turned, spotted him, and smiled.
A genuine, warm smile. It was mocking or superior. It was just friendly.
Phoenix looked at Shiro, feathers puffing proudly.
"This human's cooking," he declared,
"is the best in this world."
Shiro stiffened. He didn't trust easily, especially not birds with superiority complexes.
But then…Then he tasted the roasted pork.
Just one bite. And his world stopped.
Cold winds paused. Snowflakes froze in midair. His tail puffed up uncontrollably.
Tears gathered in his eyes, actual tears.
"I… I have been living a lie…"
This was not food. This was salvation.
In that exact moment, the Frost Tiger gave up every ounce of his pride.
He didn't care about Fenrir anymore.
He didn't care about status, titles, divine dignity, or centuries of raw meat.
He only cared about one thing:
It is to follow the human who made the meat that saved his soul.