The gate lood over us, ten feet of iron and secrecy. The strange carvings seed to shimr faintly in the brazier light, as if the wheat stalks were swaying in an invisible breeze.
Vorren gave it a shove, but it didn’t budge. "Solid. Old. And locked from the inside."
"Inside?" Lilith frowned. "Who locks themselves in a vault?"
I knelt to examine the symbols more closely. "Soone who’s either hiding from sothing... or keeping sothing trapped."
Jex’s grin widened. "Either way, I’m in."
________________________________________
We searched for a keyhole but found only a small slot shaped like — and I swear I’m not making this up — a loaf of bread.
Mister Fog, who had been silently observing up to this point, finally spoke. "It requires a Bread Offering."
I blinked. "A what now?"
He floated closer, peering into the slot. "Ancient baker cults used to seal away their greatest recipes in bread vaults. Only an offering baked with the correct ’blessing dough’ could open it."
Vorren crossed his arms. "So... we have to bake a loaf?"
Lilith groaned. "Please tell you’re joking."
Mister Fog didn’t blink — mostly because he doesn’t have eyelids. "I am never joking."
________________________________________
That’s how we ended up backtracking through the tunnels to the abandoned ovens, gathering flour, yeast, and water like we were contestants in the world’s least glamorous cooking show. The air still slled faintly of the earlier fight, and sowhere in the distance, the bakers were regrouping.
Jex took charge of kneading the dough, claiming he had "experience" from his black-market soup bread bowls. Vorren manned the oven like it was a siege weapon. I was in charge of "flavor experintation," which mostly ant adding far too much garlic until Lilith threatened to strangle .
Finally, the loaf erged — golden brown, steaming, and slling like victory.
________________________________________
We hurried back to the gate, the sound of approaching footsteps echoing closer. I slid the loaf into the slot. For a mont, nothing happened. Then the carvings began to glow, and with a deep rumbling, the gate slowly swung open.
Beyond was a single, massive chamber. The walls were lined with shelves stacked high with... bread. Loaves, rolls, baguettes, each one encased in glass as though they were priceless relics.
In the center, on a raised pedestal, sat a single, perfect loaf. It glowed faintly, as if it had been baked by the sun itself.
Vorren’s voice dropped to a whisper. "What is that?"
Mister Fog floated forward. "The First Loaf. Said to grant unimaginable power to whoever eats it."
I stepped toward it, grinning. "Well then... breakfast is served."
My fingers had barely brushed the warm crust when the sound hit us — the clatter of rolling pins, the stomp of heavy boots, and the unmistakable war cry of a furious pastry chef.
"They’re here," Lilith hissed.
From the tunnel, the lead baker erged flanked by her apron-clad bruisers. Their eyes went wide at the sight of the glowing loaf.
"Step away from the First Loaf," she commanded, her voice trembling with both fury and reverence.
I tilted my head. "If this thing’s so important, why would you just leave it lying in here?"
"It is sealed, guarded, and blessed by the Guild!" she snapped. "It has been untouched for a hundred years!"
I glanced down at my hand still resting on it. "Guess we just broke your streak."
________________________________________
She lunged. Vorren intercepted her, the impact sending flour into the air like an exploding snowdrift. Jex darted toward the pedestal, clearly intending to swipe the loaf while the bakers were distracted, but one of the rolling-pin heavies blocked him.
Lilith grabbed by the collar and yanked back. "Cecil, I swear, if you put this in your mouth, we will all die."
"Counterpoint," I said, ducking a swing, "what if we don’t die and I beco unstoppable?"
Before she could retort, the pedestal itself began to hum. The loaf pulsed with light, and the air grew heavy with the sll of freshly baked bread — rich, warm, intoxicating. Even the bakers hesitated, eyes glazed with hunger.
________________________________________
Mister Fog’s voice cut through the haze. "It chooses its eater. And it has chosen."
I looked down to see the loaf... floating. Slowly, it drifted toward like a golden, yeasty cot.
Lilith’s eyes widened. "No. Absolutely not."
But before anyone could stop , it landed neatly in my arms. The glow intensified, and I swear I heard faint angelic singing — unless that was just Jex choking on a bread roll in the background.
The lead baker scread. "STOP HIM!"
________________________________________
Too late.
I took a bite.
The world went white. My ears rang. My knees nearly buckled under a rush of sothing I can only describe as divine carbohydrates. Energy flooded my limbs, my vision sharpened, and every single crumb of bread I’d ever eaten in my life suddenly made sense.
When my sight cleared, everyone was staring. Even Vorren looked slightly unnerved.
"What?" I said, swallowing. "I feel great."
The lead baker pointed a shaking finger. "You fool... you’ve just bound yourself to the Bread Oath. You are now the Loafbearer."
I grinned. "Sounds fancy. Do I get a crown?"
"No," she said, "you get hunted by every baker in the kingdom until the day you die."
The bakers advanced, rolling pins raised like holy relics of doom.
I stood there, still chewing, wondering if it was the bread making feel invincible or the sheer adrenaline of realizing half the kingdom’s pastry chefs now wanted my head.
Vorren stepped between and the oncoming wall of aprons. "Move, or I’ll turn you into strudel."
The lead baker bared her teeth. "He carries the Loaf. He dies."
I raised a finger. "Correction — I carry the Loaf and half a croissant from earlier, so technically I’m overqualified to live."
Lilith smacked the back of my head. "Focus!"
The first baker swung for my ribs, but sothing strange happened — my body moved before I could even think. I sidestepped with unnatural speed, my feet light, my balance perfect.
"Whoa," I said, looking down at myself. "Did I just... dodge?"
"You’re channeling the Loaf," Mister Fog intoned. "Its yeast flows through you now."
"That sounds disgusting," Lilith muttered.
I grabbed the nearest thing on the shelf — a stale baguette — and swung it like a sword.
To my shock, it didn’t break. In fact, it sliced clean through a rolling pin.
Jex’s jaw dropped. "You’ve got gluten magic!"
The bakers hesitated now, muttering nervously. Clearly, Loafbearer combat wasn’t in their training.
Vorren didn’t waste the opening — he shoulder-checked one into a wall, while Lilith flipped a table for cover. Jex scrambled behind , arms full of bread rolls like he was preparing for so kind of carb-based grenade attack.
Then the pedestal began to hum again.
We all turned. The empty spot where the First Loaf had been was glowing — the sa golden light now radiating from . Symbols lit up on the floor, tracing a circle around the vault.
Mister Fog’s voice was grave. "The vault is sealing itself. Anyone still inside when it closes will be trapped for a century."
Lilith’s eyes darted to the exit tunnel. "We’ve got thirty seconds."
The bakers lunged again.
I grinned, spun my baguette like a quarterstaff, and charged.
The bakers ca at in a flurry of aprons and rolling pins, but the Loaf’s energy surged through my arms and legs like a second heartbeat. My baguette spun faster than I thought possible, batting away wooden clubs and smacking one baker squarely into a stack of rye.
"Go!" I shouted over my shoulder.
Vorren barreled through the gap I’d made, tossing two bakers aside like sacks of flour. Lilith grabbed my coat and pulled, but the Loaf wasn’t done with yet — I darted forward, knocking a third baker’s weapon clean out of his hand before vaulting over a table.
Jex, still carrying enough bread to feed a village, slipped past the chaos and dove into the tunnel.
The floor rumbled.
A deep, grinding sound echoed from the walls, and a section of ceiling crumbled, showering us with dust. The glowing symbols around the vault were pulsing faster now, like the heartbeat of so enormous beast.
"Move it!" Lilith yelled, shoving toward the exit.
We sprinted through the tunnel, the light from the vault chasing us like a rising tide. Behind us, the bakers roared in frustration — but I didn’t dare look back.
The passage narrowed, twisting left and right. The sll of fresh bread was fading, replaced by the cold, damp scent of the old palace stone. My legs felt like springs; every step was effortless, the Loaf carrying forward.
We burst into a wider corridor — and nearly ran straight into a squad of palace guards.
"Dreggs!" their captain barked. "By order of the King—"
Vorren didn’t let him finish. He scooped up like a sack of potatoes and plowed straight through them, scattering armored n in every direction. Lilith and Jex followed, Jex pelting one unfortunate guard with hot dinner rolls as they passed.
We didn’t stop until we reached a rusted grate at the tunnel’s end. Vorren ripped it free with a grunt, and fresh night air hit my face like a splash of cold water.
We climbed out into a quiet alleyway. The city stretched ahead, lamplights glowing in the dark.
Lilith leaned against the wall, panting. "Alright, Loafbearer... what’s the plan now?"
I looked down at the glowing crumbs still clinging to my coat, then back at my very confused and mildly terrified crew.
I grinned. "We eat breakfast."
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