Death Guns In Another World

Chapter 1686: Chapter 1503: Nostalgia



As they exited the bowling alley, the festive buzz of the entertainment venue faded, replaced by the gentle hum of the fortress itself. Maria and Luna walked side-by-side, a comfortable silence settling between them.

Their path led them through deserted corridors, the polished obsidian reflecting their soft footsteps. The aroma of fresh-baked bread and simmering stew, a welcome counterpoint to the sterile air of the fortress, grew stronger with each step.

Finally, they reached a set of massive, ornately carved oak doors that stood slightly ajar, a warm yellow light spilling onto the cool stone floor.

With a shared glance, Maria pushed open the doors, revealing a sight that seemed to belong to a different world altogether. The grand kitchen of the Touch's Fortress was a symphony of bustling activity and organized chaos.

The room itself was vast, its high ceiling lost in the dimness. Rows of gleaming ovens roared with controlled flames, their heat radiating a comforting warmth. Gleaming copper pots hung from heavy hooks, some bubbling merrily, others simmering with an enticing aroma. On long, polished countertops, mountains of freshly baked bread lay stacked high, their golden crusts glistening under the warm glow of strategically placed lamps.

In the center of the room, a large hearth crackled with a welcoming fire. A massive iron cauldron hung over the flames, its contents releasing a rich, savory scent that made Maria's stomach rumble. Around it, a team of cooks, each clad in crisp white aprons and tall white hats, worked with practiced efficiency. Some kneaded dough with powerful arms, others chopped vegetables with a rhythmic flick of the wrist, while still others expertly flipped sizzling platters of meat over the open flames.

Despite the bustling activity, there was a sense of calm order that permeated the kitchen. Each cook moved with a practiced certainty, their movements a well-rehearsed dance. The rhythmic clang of pots and pans mingled with the gentle murmur of conversation, creating a comforting symphony of daily life within the fortress walls.

Leaving the warmth and organized chaos of the kitchen behind, Maria and Luna entered the dining room through a heavy velvet curtain. Unlike the frenetic energy of the kitchen, the dining room was a haven of tranquility, bathed in a soft, ethereal glow.

The room itself was a marvel of understated elegance. High arched windows, draped in shimmering silk curtains, offered a breathtaking view of the star-dusted night sky.

The walls, crafted from pale, rose-colored marble, were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes of fantastical creatures and mythical battles.

Chandeliers, fashioned from what appeared to be glowing crystals, cast a soft, diffused light that shimmered on the polished marble floor.

In the center of the room stood a magnificent table, crafted from a single slab of obsidian so dark it seemed to absorb the light. Yet, its surface was polished to a mirror sheen, reflecting the soft glow of the chandeliers and the starry expanse above. Around the table were arranged high-backed chairs, each upholstered in plush, deep purple velvet, their ornately carved backs resembling the outstretched wings of mythical birds.

Despite its grandeur, the room held a sense of intimacy. The soft lighting, the muted colors, and the comfortable chairs all combined to create an atmosphere that invited conversation and fellowship. A single, ornately carved wooden chest sat at the head of the table, a silent testament to the leadership Maria and Luna held within these walls.

As they entered, the room was deserted, save for a few silent waiters standing discreetly in the corners.

Maria and Luna settled into their high-backed chairs, the plush velvet a welcome comfort after a long evening. The silence in the vast room felt heavy for a moment, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy they'd left behind in the entertainment venue. Yet, as they stole glances at each other, a silent understanding passed between them.

The clatter of approaching silverware broke the stillness. A young waiter, his face etched with respect, emerged from a side door carrying a steaming platter. He placed it carefully in the center of the obsidian table, revealing a mouthwatering display.

Roasted quail, their skin glazed with a sweet honey glaze, nestled amongst a bed of fluffy saffron rice dotted with vibrant ruby red pomegranate seeds. A side dish boasted a medley of roasted vegetables, their colors a symphony of greens, oranges, and purples. A golden loaf of bread, still warm from the oven, sat beside a silver carafe of what looked like chilled herbal tea.

Maria and Luna took a moment to appreciate the artistry of the meal. The flickering candlelight danced on the glistening skin of the quail, and the aroma of roasted vegetables and fresh herbs filled the air. It was a simple yet elegant feast, a testament to the skill of the fortress kitchens.

They exchanged a silent nod, a shared acknowledgment of the peace and comfort this meal offered. Then, with a quiet clinking of silverware against plates, they began to eat.

The first few bites were taken in a comfortable silence. Each bite was a burst of flavor - the sweet glaze of the quail, the fluffy texture of the rice, the sharp tang of the pomegranate seeds. The tension from the day seemed to melt away with every savory morsel.

As they ate, a quiet conversation began to flow. They discussed the upcoming challenges with a newfound sense of clarity, their competitive spirit momentarily replaced by a shared determination. They spoke of strategies, weaknesses to exploit, and strengths to leverage. But it wasn't just war that filled their conversation. They spoke of simpler times, shared laughter, and stolen moments of friendship. They spoke of a future they were determined to protect, a future filled with nights like this - nights of camaraderie, shared meals, and quiet moments stolen from the chaos of the incoming war.

By the time the last bite was taken, the room was no longer silent.

'"'Always a delight," Maria expressed, sharing her genuine sentiment.

"I have a knack for picking talented individuals in the culinary realm. Remember how I used to handpick your chefs back on Earth," Luna recollected, reminiscing.

"Yes!" Maria beamed, reflecting on those cherished moments that undoubtedly brought a smile to her face. However, her smile faded as she pondered how her father was coping without her by his side. A wave of nostalgia hit her hard turning the atmosphere gloomy instantly.

"Sigh!"

Maria weaved a sigh. She hoped he was doing well, knowing his strength.

As if sensing her sister's thoughts, Luna offered words of comfort. "Don't worry, I'm certain everyone is doing fine. One day, we will reunite with them all. But for now, our priority should be surviving the impending war. Once we have enough power, we can conquer anything, including the thrilling adventures awaiting us in the Higher world."

"Indeed, you are absolutely right. As a family, we will overcome any obstacles together,"

Maria responded with a confident smile.

The atmosphere was no longer somber.

Maria reaffirmed the soothing nature of conversations with Luna.