Freya had faced many things since being reborn in this ridiculous game-like world: sentient slime mold, overly enthusiastic hero fanboys, one talking rock with a superiority complex, and of course, the cabbage people. But nothing—and she meant nothing—prepared her for the war that broke out in Chapter 20.
It all started innocently enough.
The Cabbage Festival was in full swing in the town of Crunchleaf. The entire village smelled faintly of coleslaw and rebellion. Colorful stalls lined the streets, selling everything from deep-fried cabbage sticks to cabbage-scented perfume (which, disturbingly, had a long line of eager customers). Freya, wearing a paper crown labeled "Honorary Salad Queen," sat uncomfortably on a throne made of kale. The Mayor, a perky gnome named Buttonroot, had insisted it was tradition.
"Do I really have to sit on this thing?" Freya muttered, wriggling as kale poked places kale should never poke.
"Absolutely!" Buttonroot chirped. "It's laced with ancient cabbage blessings!"
Freya frowned. "I'm pretty sure that's just compost."
Before she could protest further, a trumpet sounded. A group of cabbage people—humanoid vegetables with leafy heads and little booted feet—marched into the square, holding banners that read, "Down With Leaf Oppression!" and "Lettuce Be Free!"
A hush fell over the crowd.
The Cabbage Lord stepped forward. He was tall—well, for a cabbage—and wore a monocle and a sash that read "First of the Fronds."
"Freya of the Other World," he boomed in a leafy British accent. "You have eaten our kin."
Freya blinked. "What."
"You dined on braised cabbage three nights ago."
"It was on the menu!"
"YOU ORDERED IT TWICE!"
The cabbage crowd gasped. Buttonroot fainted. A dramatic violin sting played from somewhere—probably a bard hiding behind a root stall.
Freya stood up, crown slipping sideways. "Okay, let's all calm down before someone gets pickled."
But the Cabbage Lord raised his fronds dramatically. "To arms, my brethren! The Salad Queen shall pay with dressing!"
And thus, war broke out.
The townspeople fled, scattering like cherry tomatoes. The cabbagefolk hurled leaves like shurikens, and one particularly aggressive brussels sprout screamed battle cries while catapulting itself at Freya.
"SYSTEM!" Freya shouted, ducking behind the compost throne. "Battle scenario initiated. I need options!"
[System: Options available – Summon Salad Spinner Mk II (Cooldown: 10 min), Use Passive Skill: Vitamin K Resistance, or Call Backup: Baguette Brigade.]
"What the heck is the Baguette Brigade?!"
[System: Emergency support team comprised of elite bakery knights wielding weaponized bread.]
"...Deploy them!"
A horn blew.
Moments later, horses galloped in, ridden by knights with croissants strapped to their backs and sourdough shields. At their front was Sir Pumpernickel, a grizzled veteran with a rye helmet.
"Ma'am! Baguette Brigade reporting for duty!"
Freya blinked. "You guys are real?!"
"By yeast and honor!"
Sir Pumpernickel raised his baguette like Excalibur and charged the cabbage horde. Leaves and crumbs filled the air as chaos ensued.
Meanwhile, Freya activated her Passive Skill: Vitamin K Resistance. It made her 40% more resistant to cabbage-based attacks and 90% sassier.
She cartwheeled into the fray, her fists glowing with the newly acquired spell, Slaw Slam.
"Kale me now!" she shouted, punning as she launched into a spinning uppercut that knocked out five cabbagefolk at once.
One lettuce-head tried to block her punch with a celery stalk.
"Wrong salad, buddy!" Freya snapped, kicking him into a nearby hummus vat.
The cabbagefolk regrouped, forming a coleslaw vortex. It whirled toward her, tangling the baguette knights in viney doom.
Freya's crown flew off in the storm, hitting a bard mid-chorus and knocking out the dramatic background music.
Just when all seemed lost, a cloaked figure appeared on the hill.
"It's the Ranch Mage!" someone yelled.
Indeed, the Ranch Mage, a rotund man with a bottle-shaped staff, had returned from exile. He uncorked his bottle and unleashed a creamy tempest.
"Dressing Bomb!"
Thick ranch dressing rained down, coating the coleslaw vortex and bringing it to a screeching halt.
Freya seized the opportunity.
"Ultimate Ability: Caesar Smackdown!"
She leapt high, flipping three times, and came crashing down in a flurry of croutons and righteous fury.
Boom.
Silence.
The battlefield lay strewn with leaves, crumbs, and regret.
Hours later, Freya sat in what remained of the kale throne, sipping cabbage juice in a commemorative mug that read "I Survived the Great Slaw War."
Sir Pumpernickel limped up beside her. "A glorious day, my lady. Though I fear I'll smell like sourdough for weeks."
"Same," she muttered. "Though I think I might have unlocked a new title. System?"
[System: Congratulations! You have earned the title "Greensbane." Bonus: +10 Resistance to Leafy Enemies, +5 Charisma when speaking to root vegetables.]
"...That's oddly specific."
[System: You're oddly specific.]
Freya glared at the air. "Are you sassing me, System?"
[System: Would I ever? (Yes.)]
She sighed and stood up. Around her, cabbagefolk were picking themselves up, now less hostile and more confused. Apparently, ranch dressing had a calming effect.
The Cabbage Lord approached, wilted but dignified.
"You have bested us, Freya. In accordance with ancient salad law, we now owe you a favor."
"Can I cash it in for a nap?"
He blinked. "That is within the bounds of the law."
And so, with the cabbage threat neutralized (and slightly seasoned), Freya was carried to the inn on a throne of bread by vegetable folk who now sang her praises.
As she drifted off to sleep that night, one last notification blinked into view.
[Quest Completed: Leaf Me Alone]
[Reward: 3,000 EXP, One Rare Dressing of Destiny, Unlock New Class – Culinary Crusader]
Freya snorted.
"Of course."
And thus ended the most ridiculous chapter of her life yet.
Probably.