As evening fell, the female Halflings bustled about preparing dinner, while the men unloaded small tables and chairs from their carriages.

Amazingly, one of the Halflings’ carriages even had a small roasting oven.

Their spices were all kept together in a locked, partitioned wooden box, and there seemed to be quite a variety.

These little contraptions left Kase staring, dumbfounded.

In his mind, roasting meat was a simple affair: you stick it over a fire, sprinkle some salt, and you’re done. He’d never seen such an elaborate production. The Half-Orc had been clamoring to offer a pointer or two, but in the end, all he could do was stare blankly from the side.

The diligent and kind-hearted Orelia had already gone over to help set up the tables.

Meanwhile, Colin sat to one side, alternating between his handwritten notebook and watching the Halflings at work.

Honestly, watching the group of three-foot-tall folk at their tasks was surprisingly relaxing. As they worked, they would sing a line or two of Halfling folk songs, making Colin feel as if he’d been transported into some beautiful fairy tale world.

As the Halflings worked, a feasting area gradually took shape.

Orelia stood by a table, waving and calling out, "Colin, Kase, dinner’s ready!"

Colin patted Kase on the shoulder, and the two walked over to sit beside the Tiefling. All around them, the Halflings began to take their seats with a cheerful clamor.

Once everyone was seated, platters of food were brought to the tables.

A bowl of lamb stew, a piece of bread, and a plate of roasted meat were placed in front of Colin.

The moment the food arrived, the surrounding chatter ceased. A quick glance around revealed that the Halflings were all eagerly tackling the food before them.

He picked up his spoon and took a sip of the stew.

The broth was savory and fragrant, its texture rich and smooth.

Having not eaten anything this good in a long time, Colin’s mouth began to water. He restrained his urge to devour it and took a closer look at the stew.

It was made with lamb, carrots, onions, and barley. The lamb had been stewed until it was falling-apart tender, its fat rendered completely into the broth. A few small, black flecks floated on the surface.

"Those are black truffles," Uncle Pants Hole said with a smile from across the table.

"Really?" Having never had such a thing, Colin leaned in for a closer smell.

’The aroma of this black truffle... How do I describe it? It smells a little different from far away than it does up close. It’s hard to put into words.’

Colin then picked up the bread.

It was so flaky it crumbled at the slightest touch, and a single bite felt as if it would melt in his mouth. Compared to the brick-like loaves from the taverns, this was a different food entirely.

The platter of roasted lamb chops beside it looked equally tempting.

The fragrant, seared lamb chops sat in the center of the plate, garnished with a sprig of rosemary and surrounded by side dishes like roasted potatoes.

Colin picked up a lamb chop and took a bite. The roasted lamb was as tender and juicy as if it had been slow-cooked at a low temperature beforehand, while the outside was crispy and perfectly seared.

After that first bite, he stopped holding back.

He devoured all the food in front of him, and only after wiping his plate clean did he let out a long breath and lean back in his chair.

All he could say was that the rumors about Halflings being skilled cooks were absolutely true.

Besides, they had such a wide array of spices on hand; it would be a wonder if anything they made tasted bad.

Seeing their guest had finished, a Halfling woman brought him a mug of beer to cleanse his palate.

"Thank you for the meal." Orelia’s eyes were narrowed in contentment; she looked utterly blissful.

Beside them, Kase crunched down on the last bone and sucked it clean. "I don’t hand out praise often," he said, "but you lot really know how to cook."

"We used to cook for the lord himself. A meal like the one you just ate wouldn’t come cheap, you know. We used a lot of spices," Uncle Pants Hole said, pulling a pipe from somewhere and beginning to pack it with tobacco.

"But you have to thank the sheep, too. You saw it, didn’t you? The meat was perfectly marbled with fat and lean—that’s the good stuff." Uncle Pants Hole blew a smoke ring. "Not too greasy, and not too gamey. Sheep... they’re just born to be eaten."

’The sheep would probably beg to differ.’

As he made the snarky comment in his head, Colin turned and saw the ram-like horns on Orelia’s head. His mood instantly became complicated.

The group sat around the table, sipping beer and letting their stomachs settle.

Unlike Dwarven ale, the Halflings’ beer was much more refreshing. It had a hint of sweetness, making it feel more like a soft drink than an alcoholic beverage.

Taking advantage of the break, Colin allocated the Skill Level points he’d earned from the quest to his Casting skill.

Including the points gained from casting in recent battles, his Casting Skill Level had reached 1006. He wasn’t far from obtaining his next Specialty.

He also planned to practice the Dwarven mastery of Armor in the near future. If some disaster was truly fated to befall this world, it was best not to slack off, even while on the road.

The crackling of the nearby campfire made it impossible not to relax.

After they had rested for a bit, the Halflings, having cleared the dishes, gathered around again. Some held mugs of beer, others cups of tea. They also placed a few platters of cookies back on the table.

"Tell us a story, human sir, and you too, kind Tiefling lady."

Just as he’d expected, the Halflings began begging for a story, like a gaggle of children needing to be coaxed into bed.

"I don’t really have any stories to tell," Colin said, waving his hand.

But seeing the expectant looks in the Halflings’ eyes, he couldn’t help but relent. "Well, if I have to tell one, it would only be about the jobs I’ve done with this Half-Orc here."

"Then tell us!" one said. "Yeah, it’s not like we have anything better to do!" another added.

"Alright then. Our first job was to escort a carriage..."

Colin then proceeded to recount their first few jobs.

To his surprise, the Halflings listened with rapt attention. Even Orelia, sitting beside him, was completely engrossed. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but Colin thought he could see a hint of envy in the Tiefling’s eyes.

When the stories were finished, the Halflings clapped and cheered.

"Your real-life jobs are so much more exciting than the stories in books. They’re so full of twists and turns," Orelia commented from the side.

The Tiefling’s words were already starting to slur, her eyes growing hazy. She had probably had a little too much beer.

Colin, however, had mixed feelings about the compliment.

’Twists and turns? Isn’t that just a nice way of saying Kase and I have been through a lot of disasters? Though I guess I can’t argue with that.’

"What about you, Miss Tiefling?" "Yes, tell us one of your stories, Miss Tiefling!"

Hearing Orelia speak, the increasingly tipsy Halflings began to cheer her on.

"I don’t really have any stories. Before this, I was just studying in the Monastery. Nothing new ever happened, and certainly nothing as exciting as the adventures Colin and Kase have had." Orelia lowered her head, pursing her lips as she tucked a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear.

Hearing that there was no story to be told, the drunken Halflings immediately began to protest playfully.

"Alright, alright, that’s enough. Time for bed," Uncle Pants Hole said, starting to shoo them away.

The Halflings put down their cups and looked at the Tiefling with desperate eyes. After all, she was their last hope for avoiding bedtime.