CHAPTER 44: THE FESTIVAL OF THE BARGAIN GOD II

The festival faded behind us as our wagon rattled back onto the Glimmerfen road, the horse snorting like it was personally offended by the detour.

My shiny muffin prize sat in my lap, glowing faintly, just sitting there.. all beautiful...

probably cursed but definitely delicious.

The Loaf’s power still buzzed in my veins, making my fingers twitch with the urge to turn something into a bagel. Lilith drove, her scythe gleaming like it was ready to reap the entire forest. Vorren sharpened his knife, muttering about dragons.

Jex hugged his apple sack, eyeing my muffin like it might bite him. Yvra sat stiffly, her princess glare daring anyone to speak. Mister Fog floated above, his tea steaming with what smelled like burnt dreams. Sir Thrain and Sir Gorrim tried to regain their dignity, but Thrain’s helmet was still backward, and Gorrim’s cloak was now stained with custard and flour, giving him the vibe of a walking dessert.

"That was a waste of time," Yvra said, brushing imaginary dust off her dress. "You turned a diplomatic mission into a baking contest, Cecil."

I grinned, biting the muffin. It tasted like victory and questionable life choices. "Waste? I won us passage and a snack. That’s Loafbearer efficiency."

Lilith snorted. "You’re going to get us killed before we even see the dragon."

"Or baked into a pie," Vorren added, his voice like a boulder rolling downhill.

Jex whimpered. "I’m not cut out for this. I should’ve stayed in the soup-smuggling business."

Mister Fog sipped his tea. "The Bargain God’s followers are unpredictable. That muffin might grant you power... or turn you into a biscuit."

I shrugged, swallowing another bite. "Worth the risk. Tastes like blueberry and chaos."

Sir Thrain turned, his helmet wobbling. "Cease your frivolous chatter! We are on a sacred quest for King Valthorne!" He thrust his lance for emphasis, accidentally poking a tree. A bird squawked and dive-bombed him, stealing a feather from his plume with a triumphant CHIRP.

Gorrim stood, trying to look noble despite his custard-stained mustache. "Indeed! We must uphold the crown’s honor!" He reached for his broken sword hilt, forgot it was broken, and ended up waving his hand dramatically. A passing squirrel mistook it for a threat and chucked an acorn at him, hitting his forehead with a PING.

I laughed so hard I nearly dropped my muffin. "You two are going to scare the dragon to death before we get there."

The road twisted through a forest, the trees looming like they were judging our wagon’s structural integrity. The Loaf’s power kept me buzzing, but my stomach gave a faint grumble, reminding me of its betrayal back in Bramblehook. I ignored it, focusing on the muffin. Each bite made my glow brighter, like I was a human lantern. I pointed at a rock, testing my powers, and—POP!—it turned into a scone. A rabbit hopped over, sniffed it, and passed out from sheer awe.

"Cecil," Yvra snapped, "stop leaving a trail of pastries. We’re supposed to be stealthy.... and healthy"

"Stealthy?... Healthy?" I said, gesturing at Thrain, who was now wrestling his lance free from a bush. "With these two? And myself? Good luck."

Gorrim, wiping acorn dust off his face, puffed out his chest. "I am Sir Gorrim of House Ironbrow! My valor is unmatched!" He tripped over a root, landing in a puddle with a SPLASH. His mustache drooped like a sad puppy.

Lilith slowed the wagon, pointing ahead. "Trouble."

A massive tree had fallen across the road, its trunk thicker than Vorren’s ego. But that wasn’t the weird part. The tree was... singing? A faint, warbling tune echoed from its branches, like a choir of drunk squirrels. Torches flickered around it, and a group of festival stragglers—more Cult of Bargains weirdos—danced in a circle, chanting about "the Sacred Log of Deals."

"Oh, come on," I groaned. "Another bargain thing?"

The head chanter, a woman with a hat shaped like a loaf, spun toward us. "Hail, Loafbearer! The Bargain God demands a trade to pass the Singing Log! Offer a treasure, or face its wrath!"

Vorren cracked his knuckles. "I’ll trade you a fist to the face."

Lilith gripped her scythe. "Or I can cut the log in half."

The chanter raised her hands. "No violence! Only trades! Offer something worthy, or the log sings louder!"

As if on cue, the tree’s song hit a high note, shaking the ground. Leaves fell, and Jex’s apples rolled out of his sack again. Thrain shouted, "Blasphemy!" and charged the log, only to trip over a root and land face-first in the dirt with a WHUMP. Gorrim, trying to help, slipped in the same puddle he’d fallen into earlier, sending mud flying with a SQUELCH.

I looked at them, "What the fuck are these idiots doing? knights my ass".. I kept these thoughts in my mind because.... Death is real

"Guess the only thing I can do is..."

I sighed, stepping forward. "Fine. I’ll trade." I focused, summoning a glowing loaf of pumpernickel, infused with Loafbearer energy. It sparkled like it had its own fan club. The chanters gasped, falling to their knees.

"The Loaf of Legends!" the woman cried. "The Bargain God accepts!"

The log stopped singing, rolled aside with a CREAK, and the chanters parted, bowing. I strutted back to the wagon, tossing the muffin to Jex, who caught it like it was a live grenade.

"See?" I said. "Loafbearer saves the day again."

Yvra rubbed her temples. "I hate you."

And I said back at her "I’m not that crazy about you neither"

She frowned and looked to her side

The wagon rolled on, the forest thinning as Glimmerfen’s hills loomed in the distance. Thrain, covered in dirt, muttered about honor. Gorrim, soaked and muddy, tried to salute but hit himself in the face with his broken hilt. My crew bickered, the Loaf’s power hummed, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this dragon was going to be the least of our problems.