After a quick rest, Colby got back up. He grabbed hold of the [String Cheese] that connected to the [Cheese Gloves] attached to Thornelius, allowing the Thornwolf to pull him back home.

  It was a slow and uncomfortable ride. Bump after bump after bump rattled his bones. Even if the dirt was seemingly flat, vibrations traveled up his boots and straight into his skull.

  When he reached Brinebrook and the rough soil turned into cobblestone paths, he got to experience a fraction of the shaking that Cheese Press was subjected to—minus all of the fear. After plenty of micro ups and downs, he spotted the most glorious-looking building in all the lands.

  His parents' cheeseshop.

  A benefit of not having to go fast was being able to come to a stop in a method that didn’t involve crashing into a wall. As Thornelius slowed down, the lines of [String Cheese] becoming slack, Colby reached for the handle, finally bringing his momentum to a halt.

  The moment the door swung open, Thornelius barked.

  “Broby!”

  Before he could even react, Brie tackled him.

  If he were just on his feet, things would’ve been fine. But now he had wheels, and his body was still incredibly sore.

  Colby’s feet shot forward, but the rest of his body didn’t. His bum smacked the cobblestone ground as he fell.

  “Ouch,” he groaned.

  Brie gasped, “Broby! Are you okay?”

  She lay on his chest, adding an uncomfortable amount of pressure to his already tired body.

  Thornelius barked before hopping onto his chest as well.

  Colby felt the air get pushed out of him even more. That bushy little wolf was heavier than he remembered. Thornelius wagged his tail as he rotated between licking his and Brie’s.

  “Stop it, Thorpy,” she giggled. “Broby needs help.”

  “Your brother needs you to get off of him.”

  Brie turned around and threw her arms up. “Daddy!”

  “Come here, my little cheese puff,” he said, picking her up.

  Thornelius barked. He wiggled his behind and adjusted his hind legs before leaping into the air. The moment he jumped, Colby felt the air burst from his lungs as Thornelius’s feet dug into him.

  His father reacted instantly. He tightened his grip on Brie as he carried her with one hand. The other was thrust forward. He shifted it left, right, then left again as he tracked Thornelius’s movement, before catching him and pulling him close to his chest.

  “Thorpy!” Brie cheered.

  Thornelius barked, then proceeded to lick Jack’s face, coating it with that sticky sappy slobber.

  He chuckled, “Down, boy. Down. That’s disgusting.”

  “No,” Brie huffed. “It means Thorpy loves you.”

  “It also means I need to go clean up,” he chuckled before shifting his attention to the boy lying on the ground. “Colby, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, Broby. Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m Colby,” he half-laughed, half-wheezed.

  “Anything broken? Any cuts or scratches?”

  “I’m more sore than anything.”

  “Can you get up?”

  “Yes,” he said, sitting up.

  An Inventory Screen opened up in front of his feet, and he stuck his legs inside. When he pulled them out, the [Cheese Boots], along with all of the extra cheese accessories, were gone.

  Moaning and groaning, Colby pushed himself up until he was back on his feet.

  Spreading his hands wide open, he said, “Ta-da. Now, if you don’t mind me, I want to take a shower. Then after that, it’s a date with some cheese.”

  “Wait,” his father said. “Speaking of cheese, what’s this?”

  He was talking about the [Cheese Gloves] that still clung to Thornelius’s bushy fur.

  “[Cheese Gloves] combined with [String Cheese] to make an improvised harness,” Colby said. “Pretty cool, right?”

  “It’s definitely interesting. But why did you need to make a harness for the Thornwolf?”

  “Thorpy!” Brie yelled.

  “Yes, I mean for Thorpy.”

  “So that he could pull me as we chased after a Skate Goat.”

  “Right… And why were you chasing after a Skate Goat?”

  “To get the milk that was rightfully mine.”

  “Right…Do I need to keep asking you, or are you just going to tell me the whole story?”

  “Fine,” he sighed.

  Colby retold the story of all of the shenanigans involved with the Skate Goats and LeMonkeys. How he had chased them away, repaired the Skate Goat’s skateboard, and chased it down so that he could finally get the milk that he so desperately desired.

  “Broby’s so cool!” Brie yelled.

  “You think that’s cool? Wait till I tell you what I did yesterday.”

  “Colby,” his father said, arching an eyebrow. “I thought you just went to visit Elaine. What else did you do yesterday that you didn’t tell me or your mother about?”

  The door behind the counter swung open. It was his mother, smiling at him. He knew that look. It was her I’m-pretending-to-be-nice-so-that-you’ll-spill-the-beans look.

  “Yes, Colby. Why don’t you tell us what you did yesterday?”

  “If you insist.”

  Colby then began to retell the tale of how he was challenged to a duel by Helena Vapronel and even managed to defeat her. He just left out the part where it was technically his fault that the scuffle broke out in the first place.

  “Broby’s super cool!”

  His parents’ jaws hung low as they stared at him.

  “Pretty cool, right?”

  “Super duper cool!” Brie cheered.

  “That’s…” his mother trailed off.

  “I don’t know whether to be mad or impressed,” his father said.

  “What if Colby’s making that story up? We’re talking about a noble Knight-in-training.”

  “I doubt it. The story is too detailed with minimal contradictions. Plus, how else would Colby learn that Mr. Goodsell is also a General?”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “That’s true,” his mother said. “This is Colby we’re talking about.”

  “I’m right here, you know?”

  “We know, son,” his father said.

  “Yeah, Broby! We know.”

  “How about this? If the story really is true, show us the flaming cheese,” his mother said.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now.”

  Colby closed his eyes and honed in on his Core. A while later, he held out his hand. Materializing in his palm was a cylindrical rod of halloumi that was on fire, [Flaming Saganaki].

  Once again, his parents' jaws hung low.

  “That’s…amazing,” his mother said.

  “Colby, why didn’t you tell us this earlier?” his father asked.

  “Would you believe me if I said I was distracted by cheese?”

  “Yes.”

  His mother rushed forward, hugging him tight. “I’m so proud of you, Colby.”

  “Me too, Broby!”

  “Yes, Colby. You’re amazing,” his father said. He walked forward, still carrying Brie and Thornelius as he awkwardly joined the group hug.

  “Since I’m so amazing, would you mind if I dip into the store’s supply of starter culture?”

  “Was that your plan all along?” his mother asked. “Getting us in a good mood so that we’d say yes?”

  “No comment.”

  His mother sighed, hugging him even tighter.

  “But yes, Colby,” his father said. “You can use the culture farm I set up in the basement.”

  “Awesome!”

  “But on one condition?”

  “What is it?”

  “I think your sister would really like some roller skates.”

  “Roller skates!” Brie cheered.

  “Anything for you, Brie.”

  “Yay! Broby is the best!” She leaned close to him, hugging his neck.

  After a quick shower and some rest, Colby came back downstairs to make Brie those roller skates. As for why they weren’t considered a separate spell, his intuition told him that since it was based on [Cheese Boots], it wasn’t unique enough to be considered a separate entity based on his intent. After all, all he did was strap on a couple of wheels and called it a day.

  Making the cheese rollerskates for Brie was much simpler the second time around—especially since he didn’t have to do it under a time crunch while running and trying his best not to trip on the forest terrain.

  Brie slid on the cheesy roller skates and stood up. She immediately fell down on her bum. But that wasn’t enough to stop her. She picked herself up again, only to fall. Then she did it again and again. After innumerable attempts, Brie stood up more, this time without immediately becoming one with the floor. Her hands flailed around as she desperately searched for balance. Soon, she was slowly shuffling around the cheeseshop as their father watched on.

  As for Colby, he retreated back into his room, almost ready to start making that candied ginger chèvre.

  There was just one little thing before he could safely start making cheese with the Skate Goat milk he had acquired. He had to pasteurize it.

  Just like with the Daisy Cow milk.

  It was a simple but tedious process of grabbing ice cubes from The Cheesetastic Fridge and placing them into Cheese Bowl. As the ice slowly melted into water, the Skate Goat milk was poured into Pottingham, where Temp-tation forced Stove to heat the milk until it hit 162 °F. The fire was extinguished, and after 15 seconds, Pottingham had a nice dip inside of Cheese Bowl.

  After pouring out the now pasteurized Skate Goat milk into a clean glass bottle, he just had to repeat it for the rest.

  Only then could he truly start making a flavored cheese that his mother hadn’t come up with yet. Something worthy enough to be sold in the shop.

  Making chèvre was something he was accustomed to. Ms. M came by daily, picking up a fresh batch made by him. Because of that, it was his second most made cheese after mozzarella.

  Before he dove right in, a little taste testing was in order. Colby knew how chèvre made using the store’s supply of Skate Goat milk tasted like; what he didn’t know was how much of a difference Skate Goat milk that he had sourced himself would create.

  After a quick chèvre-making session, the white piece of cheese materialized in his hand. Colby gave it a quick whiff, noting the earthy tones of its aroma. It certainly smelled, looked, and felt alright to him.

  Now, for the taste.

  He took a bite.

  It was soft and creamy, exactly what one would expect from some fresh chèvre, but something was off. It wasn’t as creamy as it should’ve been. The outside was just what he expected, but the deeper his teeth sank in, the less creamy it became. Instead, it was slightly crumbly.

  That shouldn’t happen.

  The average person wouldn’t be able to spot the difference, but he could. And if he could, his parents could sniff it out before they even sunk their teeth inside.

  Good thing for him, he already knew the culprit—the curds.

  They weren’t curdling as they should. No doubt a result of lower quality Skate Goat milk.

  That could be easily compensated for. All he had to do was get Temp-tation to take it a bit slow when she helped speed up the curdling process.

  After a quick adjustment from Temp-tation, the new batch of chèvre in his hand tasted almost as good as the one he normally made—keyword being almost. To make high-quality cheese, one needed high-quality milk. Something he didn’t have access to at the moment, but that was an inconsequential hurdle at the moment.

  Now that the base chèvre was satisfactory, he could finally get started on the flavored cheese.

  It was just like when he tried it out with mozzarella. All he had to do was turn the Butterfly Ginger chewy and let the natural sweetness of the insect-plant monster hybrid enhance the chèvre.

  While the faux candied ginger he made was similar to the one Ms. M had given him, there was still a very noticeable gap. Hers was sweeter. Much, much sweet.

  And as far as Colby could tell, she didn’t add anything like sugar or honey. She had somehow heightened the Butterfly Ginger’s natural sweetness.

  If Ms. M could do it, so could he—maybe. His expertise was in cheese, not in ginger.

  But… since he was making flavored cheese with the candied ginger, there was now a small overlap between the ingredients, meaning that theoretically he should be able to do it.

  After peeling the skin off the Butterfly Ginger, revealing the golden yellow flesh inside and getting Smart Waiter to mash its signs together to turn the ginger chewy, Colby started to brainstorm.

  How could he bring out the sweetness of the Butterfly Ginger?

  Well. This was either going to be really dumb or really smart.

  He brought the chewy piece of ginger close to his face and said, “You make my day better just by being in it?”

  Smart Waiter opened up his hatch and pulled out a sign with a question mark.

  Colby brought a finger to his lip, telling Smart Waiter not to say anything that would ruin his plan.

  “You’re the best piece of ginger a guy could ever ask for,” Colby whispered.

  “Not a day goes by that I’m not thinking of you.”

  One by one, his mobile Core Constructs walked over. They looked at him, continuing to whisper sweet pleasantries to the gingers. Each word that escaped his lips sowed more confusion among them.

  “You’re just the sweetest little angel, aren’t you?” he said, ignoring his Core Constructs, giving quizzical looks to each other and shrugging their noodle-like arms.

  That should do it. Hopefully.

  Although the fact that he didn’t feel any Mana being consumed was a huge red flag that he otherwise chose to ignore.

  Cutting up the Butterfly Ginger into small little pieces, he added it into the chèvre, thoroughly mixing it before loading it up into Smart Waiter.

  The flavored chèvre appeared in his hand, and Colby took a bite. An explosion of creamy sweetness erupted in his mouth, and every time his teeth sank into the bits of candied ginger, another mountain of sweetness flooded his taste buds.

  It was sweet, but not sweet enough—as if whatever he did hadn’t actually worked.

  Maybe one of his Core Constructs could help him, and he knew just the one for the job.

  Back in his Core, he approached Temp-tation and whispered into her ear.

  She nodded and approached a new batch of recently chewed-up Butterfly Ginger. Using her noodle-like arms, she gestured at it, repeating those sweet sentences.

  Colby could feel it. Mana was slowly being drained from his Core, used to solidify intent.

  Temp-tation was ‘sweet-talking’ the Butterfly Ginger in an attempt to make it sweeter.

  Once she was done, he added it to the chèvre and allowed it to materialize in the real world.

  He sampled his latest work.

  There was an explosion of sweetness, many times sweeter than before. Somehow, Temp-tation really had brought out the sweetness of the Butterfly Ginger. But just because it was sweet didn’t mean that was the end of the story.

  Sure, there was a huge explosion of sweetness, but it was irregular. Some parts of the chèvre were sweeter than the others, throwing off the whole balance of the dish. He hadn’t spread the candied ginger out uniformly enough. Neither had he ensured that every piece he sliced was exactly the same.

  These were aspects that his parents would hound him till they haunted his nightmares.

  So many little things to perfect. And he just couldn’t wait to dive right in.

  Oh, how he missed this!

  Colby continued to experiment with the chèvre.

  He adjusted how sweet to make the candied ginger. How small should the chunks of Butterfly Ginger be? What shape were the chunks? How best to balance its unique spiciness such that it would meld well with the fresh chèvre?

  Colby was in heaven.

  After countless hours of experimenting, brainstorming, and more Butterfly Ginger refills than he’d like to admit, he had done it.

  He was confident with what he had come up with. This was the best cheese he had made in his life.

  Now, it was time to show off to his parents.