Without hesitation, I scooped up a mouthful of the trout with rice and took a bite.
The flesh was crisp on the outside, juicy inside—greasy in the best way—and the rice soaked up every drop of flavor.
The moment it touched my tongue, I felt the Essentia inside it pulse through me, threading straight into my veins.
A wave of warmth and chill coursed through my body all at once, sending shivers down my spine.
Before the food even reached my stomach, my ability kicked in—devouring it, breaking it down, absorbing it completely.
I froze mid-bite, eyes unfocused, overcome by the sensation of raw satisfaction.
This… this was it. The feeling I'd longed for all these years. The warmth of strength seeping into my limbs. The hunger quieting, even if only for a heartbeat.
It was so pure, so overwhelming, that it nearly brought tears to my eyes.
For decades I had craved this taste, this sensation—yet all I ever had were raw, tasteless scraps devoured in the mud of battlefields.
"Wonderful…"
I breathed, the word escaping from somewhere deep within my chest.
Then I stopped holding back. My restraint shattered. I ate—no, devoured—each bite like a man possessed, like someone starved for a lifetime.
"Whoa!"
"W-what the hell? He's eating like he hasn't seen food in weeks!"
"Is that really monster meat on that plate?"
"You've got to be kidding me!"
The hall erupted in shock, but their voices were distant echoes. My mind fought my body for control.
I wanted to slow down, to savor every morsel, every drop of spice—but my body refused to listen.
The Instinctive Devourer within me had taken over, driving me to consume faster, deeper, greedier.
I mixed the spices with the rice, stripped the remaining bones from the trout, and ate until the plate gleamed clean.
Only then—when the last grain vanished—did I realize how far I'd lost myself to the hunger.
Silence.
The entire cafeteria was dead quiet.
Every gaze was fixed on me—the rookie who had just inhaled a full monster meal and lived to breathe.
Old Bronnin stood frozen besides me, his wide eyes blinking as if he couldn't trust what he'd just seen.
Even Faen beside me was speechless, his mouth half open.
But I had no attention to spare for their expressions. The Essentia within me raged, my blood trembling with energy. My ability was fully awake now—howling, demanding more.
My hands shook as I lifted my head toward the stunned chef.
"I… I would like another four servings of this dish," I said, my voice rough but sincere. "And the rest of the main courses I ordered… please."
The respectful tone in my voice made the whole room go even quieter.
After a few moments of heavy silence, Old Man Bronnin suddenly stomped back into the kitchen, leaving behind a bewildered crowd — and a huge grin plastered across his rugged face.
On the other hand, I felt like my body was being torn apart from the inside, trembling violently as if a beast had just awakened within me — a beast that refused to be chained again.
"Kael, are you okay…?"
Faen's voice broke through my haze. He looked pale himself, nervously holding out a cup of water toward me. I could barely control my shaking hands as I took the cup of water, I just nodded while swallowing back the saliva that kept pooling in my mouth — the lingering aftertaste of that divine meal torturing me further.
"You don't look okay at all! Your face is pale, your body's shivering… is this some kind of side effect of your ability?"
I couldn't help but give a weak, helpless smile. He had completely misunderstood. This trembling wasn't from pain — it was pure ecstasy. My body wasn't suffering; it was rejoicing.
It felt like a man dying of thirst finally tasting cold water after endless days in a burning desert. That's how overwhelming it was — the satisfaction, the pleasure, the hunger.
Still, that misunderstanding worked in my favor. Thanks to Faen's anxious defense, he fended off the others who tried to approach me with their endless questions. It saved me a lot of trouble.
Moments later, the kitchen doors burst open again. Bronnin emerged, carrying not one but two steaming plates piled high with the same trout and a generous heap of rice. His grin was even wider now, almost proud, as he slammed them down in front of me.
"Hey, is he going to eat that again?!""He already passed the test, didn't he? That means he can become one of Master Halric's disciples!""Is he even going to survive that much Essentia intake?"
The chatter grew louder, voices overlapping in excitement and disbelief.
Then Bronnin's expression turned sharp — and terrifying. His booming voice cut through the noise like a thunderclap.
"What the hell are you idiots doing, standing around and disturbing my customer while he's eating?!"
A massive butchering knife appeared in his hand so suddenly that the entire hall went still. Only god knows when that knife came from.
"Move your damn feet before I feed you to the trout next!"
That was all it took. The crowd scattered like frightened birds, muttering and retreating to their seats.
I gave Bronnin a small, grateful nod and turned back to the food before me. My body didn't need any more convincing — I was already devouring again, faster than before.
Seeing me completely immersed in eating, Old Man Bronnin just stood there for a moment, watching in silence. A proud smile crept onto his face, and he nodded to himself before heading back into the kitchen, humming under his breath to prepare the next dishes.
As I dug into the next plate, something inside me began to stir, the changes began to show visibly.
My once-thin frame, the hollow cheeks, the starved lines running along my neck and arms — all of it started to fade away, replaced by the signs of vitality.
The sharp bones that once pressed against my skin now slowly softened beneath healthy muscle and warmth.
Gasps rippled through the hall.
"W-what the hell…?""Is he… healing himself just by eating?""Look at his face — he's completely changing!"
Even from afar, I could feel their eyes on me. But none of it mattered.
The more I ate, the more the bottomless pit in my stomach demanded. Every strand of Essentia I absorbed poured into my flesh, knitting together what had long been broken and malnourished.
Faen, sitting beside me, looked like he'd seen a ghost. His jaw slackened, his gray eyes wide as he muttered under his breath, "Impossible… what kind of ability is this…?"
But I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop.
By the time I'd finished the fourth serving of trout, my pulse was racing — and my body was still changing. My skin regained its color, my arms felt heavier, denser, alive.
Then, the next dish arrived — Emberhog's Ash-Bacon with Slices of Hearthbread.
The scent alone hit me like a tidal wave — smoky, rich, and slightly sweet. When I took the first bite, the crispy ash-bacon melted against my tongue, the sweetness of the red sauce mingling with the soft bread. The texture, the taste — it was perfect harmony.
Another surge of energy roared through me, setting every nerve alight.
My body was beyond my control now — I kept eating, plate after plate, as though possessed by hunger itself. The sounds of chewing, swallowing, and sizzling oil filled the hall like a drumbeat of war.
Old Man Bronnin, who had been watching proudly a few minutes ago, now looked visibly alarmed.
He wiped his hands on his apron and called out, voice trembling slightly,
"H-hey… Are you really okay? I can cook again tomorrow, you know! Maybe you should stop for now, young man!"
But I just shook my head, smiling faintly through the burning hunger.
My voice came out low but steady.
"Please… bring out the next dish I ordered."
For a moment, Bronnin just stared at me — then sighed, muttering something under his breath.
"Crazy bastard… fine. Let's see how far you can go."