JUDICATOR JANE 6 - CHAPTER 5 (Patreon)

The Good Stuff

“Ahhh...” Jane splashed the steaming bathwater onto her face, savoring the absence of months’ worth of grime and dust. The wide, rectangular tubs—beautifully carved from pine—were fed by a bubbling spring nearby, its heat rising in lazy tendrils of steam. A gentle breeze rustled through the towering pines, adding a touch of serenity to the moment, making it almost intoxicating.

The bath itself was spacious, large enough to accommodate ten or more people. For now, only Melindra and Veralaktus shared it with her. As Jane glanced at Melindra, the true extent of her scars became painfully clear. The acid storms had left their mark—her raven-black hair was patchy, the scar tissue on her scalp preventing new growth. Her arms and back were a map of old wounds, a testament to her suffering. We’ll find a Doctor. And if we can’t, Mint should be able to heal her. I hope he’s alright.

Despite the urgency to return to Arcadia, Jane needed a moment to regain her bearings. A bath is the first thing Reyla would have suggested. God knows I needed it.

“You know, if this really is a slave village, it’s the nicest one I’ve ever seen,” Jane remarked.

Apparently, the baths were reserved solely for the human residents. A woman from the farms had led them here, surprised that Jane had wanted to use it. She had mentioned that the Masters rarely mingled with the villagers, preferring to spend their time in the labyrinth or the stone temple nearby.

Melindra patted her face with the water, her expression unreadable. “It is well kept, though ‘slave’ may be the wrong term. Servant might be more appropriate. From what little I have gathered, this community exists solely to farm and provide food. The ones I spoke to knew nothing of the outside world—nor did they express any desire to leave. Their only interactions with the dragonkin were to deliver raw food to a place outside the temple above. In fact, I’m not sure they knew these Masters of theirs were dragonkin at all.”

Jane frowned, shaking her head. “That’s so weird...” she muttered. “Next stop is definitely going to be that temple.”

She turned to Veralaktus, sinking deeper into the bath’s soothing warmth. The demoness was still getting used to the baths, but she didn't appear uncomfortable at least.

“Can you give me an update, Veralaktus? Has anyone found a way out of the valley? Or seen any more of those dragonkin?”

“Of course, Jane,” Veralaktus began. “An exit has been located. At the valley’s edge, a narrow pathway leads through a door to the outside. Beyond that lies more mountains covered with...” She paused, searching for the right word. “...forests. Reports from your Darkwing Skimmers indicate that the landscape extends in all directions, unbroken as far as the eye can see. Thus far, no other dragonkin have been found.”

Jane ran her fingers through her damp hair, nodding. “What about Gral’gor? Is he out of the labyrinth?”

“He is. For now, I have placed him in one of the human structures.”

“Good.” Jane exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing. It seemed that whenever someone was on the brink of death, they always required a few days to regain consciousness, even with full Health. She tried to remember how long it took for Dyle to wake up, but couldn’t place it. Wonder why the same doesn’t happen with me? The number of times she had been ‘on the brink’ were too many to count, but she usually snapped right back up.

Closing her eyes, she let the tranquility of the baths sink in, washing away the shadows of the Netherrealm. No food except the gray sludge, Mak’sult. No water. No beds. No furniture. Just endless darkness and suffering. The phantom sting of acid rain ghosted across her skin, a sensation she feared she would never truly forget.

The realization that the nightmare had finally passed threatened to overwhelm her. She took slow, steady breaths, hands trembling beneath the water.

It’s over now. It’s done. She repeated the thought like a mantra.

But what awaited beyond this valley? What was yet to come?

***

Outside the bathhouse, Jane adjusted the stout brown wool dress she now wore. Feels good to be wearing anything except that black Ebonwing dress. A village woman had provided it after offering to wash both her and Melindra’s clothes. Now only Veralaktus stood with her—Melindra had asked for some time alone in the baths.

She glanced up, taking a deep breath of the crisp evening air. The sun was sinking behind the western mountains, staining the sky in deep blues and fiery oranges. Down one of the side roads, a mother herded two laughing children toward a distant plaza. They adjusted fast, didn’t they? Then again, with the exception of the well, the demons were staying out of the village.

To the right, a stone pathway wound up toward the large temple, its silhouette swallowed by darkness. Gloomy, lifeless and silent. To her left, lanterns glowed warmly, casting golden pools of light on the path. Laughter and gentle music drifted through the air, and the scent of something rich and hearty teased her senses. Her stomach growled.

“Come on, Veralaktus. That creepy temple can wait until tomorrow. Let’s see what’s on the menu.” She turned left, following the sounds of life.

At the heart of the village, long tables stretched across the square, packed with people settling in for supper. There had to be at least a hundred gathered, chatting and passing plates. A buffet lined one side, its aromas thick with spice and unfamiliar seasonings.

A woman noticed her arrival and strode over—a middle-aged villager with her hair pulled back in a neat bun. Jane triggered Piercing Gaze to get a name.

Ahn Trangyet (Level 41)

Human

Class: Cook (Common)

Strength: 4

Agility: 7

Constitution: 2

Intelligence: 9

Luck: 5

Health: 20/20

Fun Fact:

In a sleepy little village so deep in the boonies that even Google Maps refuses to acknowledge its existence, an undercover culinary mastermind has been secretly crafting dishes that would make five-star chefs weep into their aprons. Ahn is a kitchen prodigy trained in a lineage of Cooks so ancient and prestigious that it makes the world’s top culinary institutes look like an after-school cooking club. But to the village locals? Meh. Just another Tuesday.

“Oh, Mistress,” the woman began, clasping her hands together. “Did you need something? Was the food we provided not to your liking?”

Jane tilted her head in confusion. “What food?”

Then she remembered what Melindra had mentioned. Did they leave some raw crops for me up at that temple? The thought of trudging up there to check wasn’t appealing in the slightest—especially with the rich, mouthwatering aromas drifting from the buffet.

“Uh, it’s fine,” she said quickly. “But I was kind of hoping I could try some of whatever you’ve got going on down here.”

“Here?!” The woman’s face flushed, and her fingers twitched anxiously. “C-Certainly. Right this way.” She turned and hurried ahead, glancing back with nervous flicks of her eyes.

Jane followed, the background chatter quieting as the gathered villagers took notice. Conversations hushed. Curious stares followed her. She ignored them. At this moment, only one thing mattered—food.

Before her, a long table stretched under the glow of lanterns, heaped with more food than she had ever seen in one place. Stacks of warm, pillowy flatbreads. Huge woven bowls brimming with steaming long-grain rice. A rainbow of stews and curries, their fragrant spices mingling in the night air.

She triggered Piercing Gaze on one of the bowls.

Ahn’s Mixed Vegetable Curry (Food)

Whipped up with a dash of love, a truckload of experience, and veggies so fresh they practically jumped into the pot themselves, Ahn’s Mixed Vegetable Curry is the undisputed champion of its kind. And with a price tag of absolutely free, even the stingiest penny-pincher would have a hard time saying no!

Jane drifted forward, barely aware of herself, reaching to scoop a handful of the delectable dish with her bare hand.

“Um, Mistress? Would you like a plate?”

Blinking, she snapped her hand back. “Oh—heh, right… a plate.”

She accepted the wooden dish from Ahn and grabbed one of the large ladles, piling her plate high with as much variety as she could fit. Only when she reached the end of the table did she notice something missing.

No meat.

A thought struck her. If demons only eat that gray gloop in the Netherrealm, does that make them vegetarians? Or—no, I guess they might even be vegans.

She turned to Veralaktus. “Go ahead, just do what I’m doing. This stuff is like a more flavorful Mak’Sult.”

Before long, both of them were seated at a wide, empty table, each armed with a hefty wooden spoon. Jane took a generous scoop of a green curry—then another, and another. Each bite was better than the last.

She slammed her fist onto the table, rattling the dishes. “DELICIOUS!” Tilting her head back, she shut her eyes with a groan of pure bliss. “Oh my god… This is the greatest day of my life.”

“Enjoying yourself?”

Jane cracked an eye open to see Melindra sliding into the seat beside her, a full plate in hand.

“It’s so good, Melindra. You have to try this,” she said, jabbing her spoon at a yellow curry. “And this one, and this—oh, definitely this one!”

Before long, Jane’s stomach was stretched to its limit, and she let out a contented groan. “Too good...”

“Um, Mistress,” Ahn’s hesitant voice cut in from behind. “Do the… demons also need food?”

Jane's cheeks flushed. Right. The question she had been dreading. A pang of guilt flared for pigging out when the other demons hadn’t had anything but water so far.

Even in the back of her mind, she could already hear Gareth’s voice berating her: The biggest foe of a large army isn’t the enemy, it’s poorly planned logistics. Without a steady supply of provisions, no matter how powerful your horde is, it will fall—and without a single battle fought.

And right now, demons were still pouring through the gateway in the heart of the labyrinth. No matter how skilled these Farmers were, there was no way they could sustain that amount of demons on what they grew.

We’ll have to ration. Send hunting parties out. She was already calculating whether even that would be enough. Mak’Sult had been a miserable thing to eat, but at least it had provided a healthy and consistent food source for the demons. Here in Alur, that wasn’t an option.

“Mistress?” Ahn prompted again, still waiting for an answer.

Jane straightened. “Yes, Ahn. Could you please show us where you store your crops?”

***

Hurrying down the path, Ahn fought to keep from trembling. Was this level of interaction the new normal? The only time she had ever spoken to one of the Masters was when she burned her leg and needed healing. Even at the Festival of Fortitude, they always kept their distance. And now, none of them were wearing the traditional robes and masks. At least the Mistress carried the same commanding presence as the old Masters.

Ahn shook her head, pushing away her confusion. She had more immediate concerns. For now, she focused on leading the two women and the intimidating demoness to the storage caves.

“So, Ahn,” the Mistress began, her tone casual but curious. “Is this your first time meeting a demon? Have you ever heard of them before?”

Ahn shook her head. “No, Mistress. This is my first time.” The bestial demons had terrified her at first, but after seeing how they obeyed the Mistress without question, that fear had faded.

“Huh… What about elves, dwarves, or… dragonkin?”

“No, sorry. I’ve never met any of those,” Ahn replied, a little apologetically.

“Alright. Then what about the old Masters—what race were they?”

Ahn shrugged. “I don’t know. My General Identification skill never listed it.” The new Mistress had a level just as high as the old Masters, but she was listed as human. Another oddity Ahn chided herself for even noticing.

They wound through a few more twists and turns before reaching the storage cave. The familiar tall arched doorway gleamed under the moonlight. Ahn pressed her finger against a panel on the doorframe and traced the entrance key—a complex lattice of an inverted star intersecting a decahedron. With a low rumble, the massive doors shuddered, then slid open.

As she stepped inside, luminescent panels in the floor flared to life, casting a cool glow over the stored crops. The towering columns of food stretched deep into the cavern, vanishing into darkness beyond the reach of the lights.

“What… the heck… is this?” The Mistress gawked, her voice echoing through the cavern. She looked around, her mouth hanging open. “How much food do you have here? I gotta check this out.”

Without warning, Ahn felt her head snap toward the Mistress, as if some unseen force compelled her to watch.

Metallic wings burst from the woman’s back, a blindfold materializing over her eyes. In the same instant, she launched herself twenty feet into the air, then shot forward at impossible speed, vanishing into the cavern depths.

Ahn’s head wrenched after her, dragged by an invisible pull. More lights activated along the storage cave’s length, illuminating row after row of untouched food along the Mistress’s path. Only when she was out of sight did Ahn regain control of her head. She staggered, heart hammering at the unexpected transformation.

A firm hand caught her arm.

“Easy now,” Melindra, the older woman, soothed. “There’s no need to fear. This is just one of the new Master’s many powers. It will not harm you.”

Ahn pressed a hand to her chest, struggling to steady her breath. “R-Right. Of course. One of the Master’s many powers…”

Moments later, the Mistress came streaking back through the storage cave. Ahn tried to close her eyes, but they wouldn’t obey. She was forced to watch as the wings and blindfold disappeared, the Mistress landing lightly as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“Melindra, you aren’t going to believe this—this entire place is chock full of food! Corn, potatoes, rice, wheat, tomatoes, peppers, onions, carrots—everything you could think of. And it goes on for miles! And it’s all still fresh!”

Ahn flinched as the Mistress turned to her.

“What is this place? Where did all this food come from?”

“I-I don’t understand,” Ahn stammered. “The Farmers bring the food here after every harvest. Of course, there’s always more than we can eat—more than the Masters need, too. So we just keep it in here.”

The two women exchanged glances.

“Okay… but how are you keeping it from spoiling?”

Ahn frowned, confused. “I don’t know anything about that. That’s… what storage is for, isn’t it?”

“Jane,” Melindra said, pulling the Mistress aside. Ahn could barely make out their hushed conversation. “This structure is undoubtedly another construct of a Legendary class, likely as ancient as the labyrinth itself.”

“Yeah, I guess… but even so, with this quantity of food—how long has this been going on?”

Ahn rubbed her arms, turning away. What were they talking about? Where else were they supposed to put the harvest each year? The old Masters had never questioned it. All she wanted was to get out of here and back to her dinner.

And when was the Mistress going to start the melody again? That was all the others talked about. Since the new Master had arrived, it had gone silent, and no one had dared to ask why. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be much longer.

The Mistress stepped forward, inspecting the glowing panels on the ground before running her hand along one of the sleek food bins. Then she turned back, hands on her hips.

“So, Ahn—would it be alright if we shared some of this food with the demons outside?”

Ahn nodded vigorously. “Of course! But—I’m sorry, Mistress—I don’t think I can prepare that much. Even with the other Cooks helping.”

The Mistress raised a hand. “No, no, that’s fine. Just the raw vegetables will be more than enough.” She exhaled, her expression softening. “Thank you… This is a huge relief.”

She turned to the demoness behind her, her tone commanding. “Veralaktus, make the arrangements. Dinner is served.”