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Gordon had other options.

If he simply asked, his lord Alfred would have been more than willing to provide a room in Winterhome and even allow him to stay until the territory was restored after winter.

It was certain that Gordon’s vassals would also be provided accommodations.

No, Alfred didn’t even need to step in for that.

There were countless nobles, knights, and influential figures he had mingled with at the last banquet, all of whom would willingly help with just a word.

Especially those nobles who shared borders with Gordon’s territory, Baron Bolton’s Territory.

In fact, it’s quite challenging for neighboring territories to maintain good relations.

Minor disputes between adjacent villages and conflicts over resources like forests, rivers, and lakes often erupted yearly.

Even if subordinates got along well, if a quarrel broke out among the nobles, bam! The chain of grudges passed down through families would be instantly complete.

‘I’m rather free from that sort of thing.’

How many nobles would hold a grudge against a wandering mercenary?

At least not in Iceland.

Of course, the neighbors of the territory might be a little different, but the newly appointed lord of Baron Bolton’s Territory, Gordon Stark, was no ordinary wandering mercenary.

He was a Swordmaster.

Furthermore, a Swordmaster with no connections or grudges in the Kingdom of Seophone.

Not to mention that such a figure had direct ties to the Duke’s Family?

‘But that’s all a debt and a burden.’

Of course, nobles wouldn’t feel any need to repay a favor.

Most would be satisfied with just leaving a good impression.

Under normal circumstances, the neighboring lords who would usually have a strained relationship with the Bolton Territory would certainly compete to offer their best guest quarters.

However, if they were to receive a favor without giving anything in return, whispers of ungratefulness would undoubtedly circulate.

With a bit of exaggeration, that could easily destroy one’s reputation.

Of course, if he asked his lord Alfred, he could be free from this.

After all, if the territory were devastated before the holder even arrived, that would indeed be Alfred’s responsibility.

‘But then again, it wouldn’t look good to beg outright.’

It just wouldn’t present well.

There’s such a thing as first impressions.

After saving Iona and showcasing the Swordmaster’s might, would he run straight to his lord asking for a handout the very first day he arrives at the territory?

Although he understood the situation, as mentioned, it wouldn’t look good.

A person of such skill going to his lord for help over a small problem?

Those in power, those nobles, valued appearances above all else.

‘But still, I can’t avoid receiving help from somewhere.’

There were ways to spend winter in a good spot within the inner castle of Coldon.

If he were alone, he wouldn’t hesitate to choose that.

However, he wasn’t alone now.

He had a band of mercenaries he had taken in as vassals.

Nonetheless, he could breathe a sigh of relief knowing that his generous lord had provided some support in the form of a consolation, but still, it wasn’t quite enough.

So who could provide him with a feasible way that doesn’t incur debt with ‘nobles’, looks decent on the surface, and generates a steady income?

Gordon could think of only one person.

Catherine Marigold Atanitas.

‘Didn’t they say that half of Coldon’s oil is supplied from the mage’s territory?’

More accurately, from the estate belonging to the Wizard’s Tower, but what was important was that she could introduce his vassals to relatively stable work throughout the winter.

Catherine, who had assumed he had left, was taken aback when she heard his circumstances and thoughts, but readily introduced Gordon’s subordinates to Fungusbee Village.

From housing and income for the vassals until the spring when territory restoration began.

Gordon’s own housing issues.

She smoothed things over with some friendly connections.

By owing one person, all his worries were resolved.

“That doesn’t justify why you keep following me around.”

Karem paused, stirring the thick, simmering red sauce in the enormous pot with a large, wooden ladle, wiping the sweat from his brow and rubbing his arms and hands.

His young body was involved in a hefty task, with dense sauce demanding relentless stirring.

But even so, he couldn’t afford to take a break.

“If it’s that hard, you could have your house fairy do it.”

Gordon said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’ve made her do all the hard work until now.”

“I’ve considered that—”

“Considered? You mean you didn’t actually do it?”

“She has so many tasks, you see.”

“Adding stirring that delicious-smelling concoction onto all that won’t really matter, right?”

He thought about it but didn’t act on it.

“How can you ask someone who is darting about here and there to stay in one spot and stir a pot?”

“Well, if that’s the case, just tell me, and I’ll do it for you.”

“No way! Even if I’m a freeloader, doing chores for a guest?”

“I’m not a freeloader!”

Gordon flared up at that moment.

“It’s just that… how do I put this? I’ve sort of unexpectedly found myself with an early winter vacation due to external factors.”

“And what’s the difference between that and being a freeloader?”

“There’s a huge difference.”

“What kind of difference?”

“A freeloader isn’t a noble.”

Kuhhh! Gordon was impressed, but Karem was hardly curious about why and simply resumed stirring the pot once his muscles relaxed.

“But really, what’s with stirring that pot like there’s no break? Weren’t you stirring it even before I came?”

“That’s right.”

“Impressive stamina you’ve got there. How long have you been at it?”

“Since the morning.”

“For no good reason?”

“Of course, it’s necessary.”

Gordon tilted his head in confusion.

However, Karem absolutely could not afford to take a break.

Every time he stirred with the ladle, various vegetables, including onions, disintegrated in the tomato sauce, swirling around with a mass of minced and sautéed meat.

If he even relaxed for a moment, all that meat would undoubtedly stick to the bottom of the pot and burn.

What he was preparing was not just sauce itself but an emblem of a dish with more meat than sauce.

Ragu.

Bolognese sauce.

Commonly referred to as meat sauce.

More meat than curry.

More meat than jjajang.

More meat than sauce. Meat sauce!

This was one of many dreams that Karem from the past held.

In his previous life, he had never been able to manage the cleanup, setting aside the environment and costs, dreaming of it only to satisfy himself by watching videos and then settling for purchased meals.

But the current Karem was different.

He had a kitchen.

And it didn’t cost him a thing.

Besides, he even had the house fairy Mary to stir that pot without rest!

The problem was that Mary couldn’t stay in one place for long during the day, oops!

But by the time Karem recognized it, he was already stirring.

Mary felt very sorry about that.

If only he had timed things better, he wouldn’t have to strain his arms stirring that pot…!

“Ah, look at that. Amazing.”

Unable to resist the delicious smell, Gordon leaned closer to Karem and marveled at the contents of the pot.

Szzzzzuuurp—

Each time the ladle followed Karem’s hands, the thick sauce in the pot made a slight sound of resistance.

The sauce was so thick that one could see the distinct layers of it clinging to the sides of the pot.

The height was about the length of a pinky finger.

In other words, the sauce had originally filled that high, and after moisture evaporated, it meant a concoction closer to a meat slurry was being made.

“The aroma is incredible, right? The taste will be unforgettable too.”

“Looks like it’s gonna be.”

“Though I feel like my arm’s gonna die from this…!”

“How much longer do you need to stir?”

“Let’s check.”

Karem quickly set down the ladle and scooped some of the meat sauce with a spoon.

The sauce, thick to the point of being almost dry, appeared as large chunks of meat.

It could even pass for meatballs.

“Wow, hurry up and taste it.”

“Wait a sec! I was in the middle of enjoying it.”

But as Gordon pressed on, Karem quickly put the spoon to his mouth.

And went silent.

As he chewed, rolling it around with his mouth, tongue, and teeth while still stirring with one hand and holding an empty spoon in the other, the longer Karem took to savor the flavor, the stronger Gordon’s temptation became.

A dish that stirs the dreams of men has simple conditions.

Meat, meat, and even more meat!

And the sauce in front of him, closer to meat slurry than sauce, was more than sufficient to ignite those dreams in a man.

No, it was so ample it overflowed.

After a while, faced with the limit of his patience, Gordon questioned, should he just dive in or hold back? Luckily, Karem’s tasting had come to an end.

“This should be enough.”

“Oh, then?”

“We need to prepare lunch for Sir Atanitas. Oh boy, my arm’s killing me.”

Karem complained as he extinguished the fire in the oven and began taking eggs from the warehouse to prepare pasta.

“Gordon. I know it’s a little strange to ask now, but are you going to—”

“Eat. If I don’t eat this right in front of me, what kind of man would I be?”

“That’s a bit hasty to say.”

Well, at least among the men he knew, none would refuse.

“Here, have a taste with the spoon.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

“No, wait! I meant taste, not eat. Taste!”

*

*

*

“This is a huge mistake.”

Sitting in the lab, occupied with the postponed work, Catherine muttered absentmindedly while staring at the parchment in her hand.

The document was none other than the financial report.

More specifically, it was the financial report from Fungusbee Village, which had almost been devastated last summer.

As Mary tidied up the evidence of daily life cluttering the office, she caught a glimpse of the parchment Catherine was focused on.

“The profit margin has actually increased compared to before.”

“Uh? You can read documents like this?”

“I’ve had experience preparing contractors’ ledgers before.”

“Oh, well then.”

Catherine straightened her tilted head, as if she understood.

“Isn’t that good news?”

“It’s a pleasant surprise indeed. The estate I thought was a failure has returned as a greater goldmine.”

“You seem rather stunned by that.”

“Uh? Was it that obvious?”

Mary nodded as she placed dishes down carefully to avoid spilling crumbs.

“Anyone who can finish documents faster than a blink would know if someone is stuck on one. Of course, if the content of the parchment is true—”

“Then everyone will be astonished.”

The extensive and elaborate contents of the parchment detailing a year’s finances of Fungusbee Village had given Catherine a light interpretation but instead weighed heavily on her mind.

“From winter to early summer, there’s been nothing but losses, and within just one season, it surpasses the profits earned over the years?”

“Oh, you didn’t know that?”

“I only felt compelled to check after hearing it.”

In any case, having agreed to assist Gordon with winter employment, Catherine resumed her shuffle through the stack of postponed documents until she encountered the financial report of Fungusbee at the very bottom.

In other words, “Here’s how much taxes we owe for the year. Sincerely,” can be held in her hand.

“Luxury goods and weapons usually earn less than consumer goods.”

Catherine scratched her head as if still not understanding.

“But isn’t that just for something like bulk trading gains? What? How many times more can you earn selling oil than mushrooms?”

“Well, considering half of the oil used in Coldon is produced in Fungusbee, that’s how.”

“I know that part.”

It was something she was aware of.

The clash between rational understanding and instinctual comprehension left Catherine at a loss for words.

“Receiving a letter saying they’re gonna consume all the oil from Coldon, I thought what an ogre that dances at a social would it be…”

“Let’s put the headache aside for now.”

Mary, gently yet firmly, snatched the parchment from Catherine’s hand.

“I’ll prepare lunch.”

“Huh? Has the time flown by already?”

Knock, knock, knock—

The sound of tapping at the office door.

Through the crack of the door wafted the rich, savory aroma of beef, full-bodied and impossible to mask with mere spices.

That mouthwatering scent drifted in through the gap.

 

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