"And why do you want to be the best chef to have ever lived?"

"Because I want to show to everyone that my looks and my blood don't define who I am and what I do. That is contrary to what everyone else expects from me, that I can be the very best at something that they would never have expected. I want my name spread across the land so when the people who looked down on me and said I would never amount to anything, that one day they will hear my name and they will remember their actions and hopefully they will change and learn that perhaps what they thought impossible, is possible!"

"Oh? Then what did you have to gain by joining a martial arts gym?"

"I joined because I read about how a regular person was able to stand up to the tyranny of a Weaver. They might have lost, but they did what most people wouldn't even dare. They had the strength to try to fight against that which was stronger and greater than them. I had always wanted to become a Weaver, but that was simply out of blind adoration for their strength. It was only after that fight that I realized, maybe I didn't have to become a Weaver to reach my goals. If I could become strong to at least defend against one, I could use that training and go search out for wild beasts and ingredients that could be used in my food without fearing for my life. And when I saw that person was the same one who visited my shop just a few weeks ago, I didn't even know how to react. Then you gave a speech that destroyed what I previously thought. So all throughout those torturous days as I had to stand with the other three, and then when I ran around and searched for those clues, all I could think about was how much I wanted to become a Weaver."

"And you want to become a Weaver to become the best chef that ever lived? Do you not think you can become the best chef without being a Weaver?"

"That's right. It was then that I no longer wanted to become a Weaver. I need to become one. There were ingredients that I couldn't have ever dared to imagine or use without becoming one. How can I become the very best if such a simple thing as the ingredients limited me?"

"But is it not true that the ingredients don't make the dish, the chef does?"

"It's true that expensive ingredients don't make a dish good. The skill of its creator is what stands above, but even if I had unrivaled skills, they will still lose to something as silly as inferior ingredients. And becoming a Weaver would remove that ingredient limitation and would allow me to travel across the entire continent. I could travel to every territory, every village, and small tribe. I could learn more about their cuisine, what they eat, how they cook, and I can add those skills to my repertoire. Only by experiencing everything could I finally call myself the best chef. And only by becoming a Weaver can I live long enough to experience that. That's why I accepted the fact that I could die. Because you were right. The truth is that I would rather die, going through that torturous experience, than living with myself, that I gave up and abandoned my dreams. That's why even though I asked for the antidote, when there was a chance for me to live, no matter how small it was, I didn't take it."

"So just because you failed once you would rather die? Do you think just because you might become a Weaver, that they never fail? Do you think life is as easy as that? Because it's not. You have to be prepared to fail. And that's why you know I'm right when I call you a coward. You would rather die than face the reality. Humph." Aleister turned around.

"Wait!" Malozar cried out. "You're right. I was wrong to think that way. I was wrong to think that way. What you just said now, that it's the skill that makes a chef, you're right. I knew it to be true, but the fancy meats using ingredients always blinded me with names I could only dream of pronouncing. I was so enamored by the materials, that it wasn't until the end before I died that I realized I was wrong."

Aleister turned back around. "You may have realized the truth at last, but now you're dead. So what good is it now?"

"Please, I don't want to be dead. I want to live."

"Now you want to live, huh? And what makes you think that I have the power to reverse your death."

"I—I don't know. But, please, I'm willing to do anything if you can give me a second chance."

Aleister dropped another sleeping pill inside of the glass of wine and raised it up. "Drink this and I will decide your faith." Malozar opened his mouth as Aleister poured the content down his throat. He double-dosed it right now in order to make sure Malozar was put to sleep instantly and stayed knocked out for much longer than a day this time.

He put the cup down, and Malozar was sound asleep.

Aleister sighed as he scratched his neck. He opened the door to the room and looked back before leaving.