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The Duke’s event would be better held tomorrow! It doesn’t get decided on the same day. Karem, who shows no interest in anything but cooking, just didn’t know.

It’s a grand hunting event hosted by the Duke.

What? Anyone who gets startled by the invitation from the Lord/Duke and drops everything to come is as common as crabs in Iceland.

Moreover, this hunting trip has a purpose.

To pray for the safe delivery and well-being of the pregnant Elizabeth.

If it’s not because of a disaster happening in the territory or a relative passing away, then one must be prepared to face the consequences of refusing it.

Of course, kind Alfred isn’t causing any mischief. If he were, Catherine would have been chased out of Iceland a long time ago.

But what about the surrounding nobles and relatives? In the worst-case scenario, one could find themselves socially buried in the Icelandic noble society.

In that sense, Catherine was firmly disliked.

“The Chief Magic Consultant seems to be very busy, huh?”

“That woman is receiving all the favorites but is completely ignoring the Lord’s invitation.”

“The esteemed sage must be aware that the mainland waters haven’t drained yet.”

Even though they publicly offer solid reasons to decline, it’s still tricky.

Of course, the parties involved really have no thoughts about it, but public opinion forms regardless of their opinions.

Especially since Catherine is a sage-level Grand Wizard.

There were so many who wanted to form connections and some who approached by deliberately making requests in the name of interaction.

Naturally, Catherine, who dislikes any hassle, built up walls for various reasons.

Something about requests, or documents piling up, or simply being disinterested.

Of course, it’s not that Olivier, the subordinate of the tower, never responded to the invitation on Catherine’s behalf. The issue is that Olivier wasn’t as quick in handling matters as Catherine, so the instances of him attending in her place were few.

At least he didn’t voice any complaints beyond grumbling since he didn’t skip out on truly important occasions.

Such as dealing with the royal treasury, Wintersend, visits from the prince, or trips to Bendleig, among others.

Had it simply been an ordinary hunting invitation, Catherine would have shrugged it off like usual, but given the circumstances, she decided to respond.

That doesn’t mean her desire to refuse vanished, though.

“How long has it been since I returned?”

Catherine slouched over Karem, emanating an aura of deep reluctance.

“After returning from Bendleig, I went on vacation, and now I’m being forced out again.”

Catherine, grumbling, glanced out the window.

Unlike her mood, the sunlit outside welcomed the breeze with warmth.

“I understand that it can’t be helped, but politics are a real hassle.”

“Why not try to lighten your mood?”

“Who says my mood is bad enough to lighten? I’m just annoyed, okay?”

Though she pointedly said that, Karem simply gave in as Catherine’s grumbling continued. It wasn’t a particularly bothersome situation after all.

‘Maybe I should pet her head.’

The thin yet soft sensation brushing through his fingers. The pleasant chill and weight he cradled were never tiring, no matter how often he experienced it.

The way she subtly nudged his hand while he petted her also seemed to imply approval, but her expression remained grumpy.

“What do you think about a snack to cheer you up? I prepared it right before coming here.”

Mary pulled a basket from under the wagon seat and took out a square container, opening its lid.

The moment he saw it, Karem knew what kind of snack Mary had prepared.

The inside of the container held perfectly cut, puffed pastries drenched in syrup, glistening under the sunshine pouring in from outside.

Even though they were cold, the pastries and the pistachio powder sprinkled on top emanated a sweet aroma that tickled his nose.

“Baklava?”

“That’s right. It’s Baklava. If you’re not feeling great, I thought a sweet dessert filled with butter would be just the thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

“While that’s true, when exactly did you make this?”

“I made it quickly while Karem’s junior stepped away for a moment.”

“In the kitchen? Did you manage to pull this off between your quick trip to the warehouse?”

Karem was taken aback, trying to grasp what kind of nonsense that could be.

“Did you use house fairy magic? You?”

The one who preferred to do things herself and avoided using the convenient house fairy magic had just done so?

“Even alone? This feels like a breach of the agreement.”

“Anyway, when it comes to baking sweets and breads, Karem’s junior doesn’t really offer significant help, so I don’t think it’s a problem, right?”

“Wait, are you really putting it that way?”

“Opportunities are for those who seek them. Your junior has been too complacent with the unspoken—”

Of course, to Catherine, all this felt trivial.

“What are you doing talking nonsense when you just brought out a snack right in front of my eyes? Are you both begging to be punished?”

With Karem clamping his mouth shut in focus on petting her, Mary hastily presented the Alraune’s Tear she had previously boiled.

The crunch of the crispy pastry.

But it wasn’t just crunchy and nutty.

Crisp—crunch!

The syrup-drenched pastry crumbled as it was broken apart, as if chewing on a thin sheet of candy.

Moreover, the layers of the pastry so thin they felt like parchment, coated lightly in butter, were fully soaked in syrup.

His mouth became a sticky mess of syrup.

Even though the thick layer of pistachio was nutty, it only contributed to a tingling sensation instead of soothing his palate like the pastry did.

At least the pistachio powder sprinkled on top remained syrup-free, yet given the situation below, it offered no help.

The bottom of the baklava, soaked with syrup, oozed syrup every time Karem tried to bite into it.

External help was now required.

Swish—

A warm liquid, bitter yet sweet syrup rushed in like floodwaters bursting a dam, immediately clearing the way.

From the scent that was completely devoid of sweetness, Catherine felt a sense of comfort.

“Mmm. Haah. While I do enjoy sweet snacks, this is just excessively sweet.”

“That’s completely understandable.”

One hallmark of desserts from desert nations.

You could feel your teeth rotting in real time with the sweetness.

Middle Eastern desserts are known for their extreme sweetness, and it was no different with the desserts from the Kingdom of Adobice, a quintessential desert nation.

Karem might not have known, but both the Middle Eastern desserts from his past life and those from the Kingdom of Adobice considered baklava as merely the baseline.

If it wasn’t AT LEAST this sweet, it wouldn’t count as dessert.

“Honestly, I also had my doubts while making baklava by the recipe.”

Mary looked down at the baklava with a weary expression.

That was quite unexpected.

“Karem? What’s the meaning of that look?”

“Nothing. It’s just surprising that you of all people would say you don’t like desserts.”

“You only knew one thing and didn’t know the other, didn’t you?”

“Well, let’s hear what you’re hinting at.”

“Then I’ll tell you.”

With an attitude that suggested it couldn’t be more obvious, Mary poked the baklava with her fork.

“I’m not particularly fond of desserts.”

“Whoa. Were you lying from the start?”

“No, it’s true! Brownies, including myself, love bread and dairy products, not desserts specifically.”

“Huh?”

“It’s just that most desserts are rich in butter and cream, which is why I like them.”

If you asked any house fairy, they’d say the same while serving Catherine.

Karem was a bit taken aback.

‘She doesn’t actually prefer desserts?’

Indeed.

While preparing snacks for Catherine, Mary ended up making some for herself, but it turned out she didn’t inherently love sweet desserts.

It just happened that those desserts were simply rich in cream, butter, and flour.

Suddenly, Karem remembered a vision of Mary he’d once seen, chugging a kettle of milk beside a few baskets of freshly baked plain bread.

“…”

“No, Karem. Is this really that shocking?”

“What would you think if I said I don’t obsess over monster byproducts?”

“Eh? What did you just say? Those antics?”

Mary put down her fork, seemingly hearing wrong. Who could believe such a thing?

Of course, he was merely using it as an example.

Karem himself thought it was true that he tended to obsess over that.

But that was all about restoring the flavors from his past life and indulging his curiosity.

Yet, being so dramatic about it could get on his nerves… he decided to change the subject.

“…Anyway, where are we headed to, then?”

“We’re going to Drywood.”

“Oh… is that so?”

That sounded familiar… what was it again?

“Do you remember having Ice Worm grilled with seasoning?”

“Ah, the similar eel grill? Ah…”

Karem averted his gaze out the window to avoid Catherine’s perspective, which was correct.

*

*

*

Drywood had once been a pain because of the Ice Worms.

Although that was a story that could now be brushed aside as it had been a long time since they were eradicated, remnants of that past lingered longer than one would think.

Especially in places barely touched by hands.

The Ice Worms, which once roamed the Antler Forest and beyond, primarily inhabited the underground as a sub-species of Death Worm.

Monsters large enough to swallow a horse could create caves simply by passing through.

Of course, caves created this way often became unstable and collapsed easily.

However, since Iceland is an area that remains cold all year round, even in summer, deep underground, the land stays frozen solid.

Even a giant monster digging through can hold strong.

Thus, Ice Worms were eradicated, but the caves they left behind became perfect nests for other monsters.

Of course, Alfred was no fool and was well aware of this.

That’s why he hired adventurers to periodically seek them out and eliminate them.

However, the problem lay in the vast territory of the Ice Worms.

The caves they created were notably complex, akin to a maze.

And unfortunately, a rabbit decided to settle down in one of those caves, eventually transforming into a horned rabbit.

“The horned rabbit itself isn’t a huge problem.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s just that its charge is threatening, but with just a shield, even teenagers can catch one easily. It’s a typical low-level monster.”

“Is that so…”

Karem climbed up on the castle wall built near a clearing close to Drywood, overlooking the area alongside Catherine.

Before them unfolded a sight utterly bizarre.

Breeeeiiing—!!!

“Raise your shield! Hold your shields! Ouch! My ankle!”

Kiiiiing—!!! Crash! Thud!

“Uh… it really does seem easy to catch them like this.”

“Is this how you do the cutting?”

“Yeah. Their horns are tough, but if you cut at the root from the inside—”

Instead of a cute little rabbit, there was a rabbit larger than a small hunting dog, charging around with drill-shaped horns on its head, munching on grass and attacking the incoming people.

It charged towards them at speeds that seemed to reach 70 km/h, crashing against a wooden shield with the impact of an arrow.

“Wait, didn’t that just hit the shield?”

“The charge is pretty menacing, but it’s small, you see? As long as you have a shield, it can be easily handled.”

“No, that just struck the shield, didn’t it?”

“That’s because it’s a cheap shield. If it was a solid oak shield, the horned rabbit would have knocked itself out instead.”

“Karem, with your combat skill, you could easily take on a horned rabbit.”

“Even with that encouragement? I absolutely will not.”

Karem had no intention of fighting that not-even-funny forgettable creature.

 

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