---

The expressionless gaze of the house fairy pierced through as it probed for the truth.

Even without words, the intensity of the gaze made the search for truth palpably felt.

Karem and Gordon displayed outrageously bewildered expressions, as if they had never been suspicious in the slightest.

Anyway, it was a shared empathy only within my heart.

Since I’d never voiced it, they remained innocent.

Karem shrugged his shoulders with a suspiciously innocent look, while Gordon casually ripped into a chicken leg, so much so that their apparent nonchalance raised even more suspicion.

Mary sensed this too.

However, for now, she decided to take a step back.

“Well, let’s save the probing for later.”

“But, what is it? A summons?”

“Yes. A summons.”

“Then right away—”

“Just a moment.”

Mary halted Karem, who was about to rise from his seat.

“You were summoned not as Karem, but as Sir Stark.”

“Hmm. Me? What, am I to provide an escort or something?”

Gordon continued to shred his chicken, blissfully unaware of the crumbs coating his beard.

“Yes. Before pre-contractual matters, His Grace wants you to meet with Lord Hartman after surveying the premises.”

Mary nodded in agreement.

“So, you mentioned you needed an escort.”

“Since when did you say you needed an escort?”

“You can go right away.”

“Now? Well, I don’t particularly mind.”

Gordon carelessly tossed the bones left in the container and slapped a wooden bucket still brimming with chicken.

“Is it fine if I bring this? I was in the middle of eating.”

“Um, you’re saying you’ll munch on chicken while escorting?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“…Isn’t it obviously a problem while escorting?”

The implication was that an escort couldn’t focus on the person they’re protecting while also being preoccupied with eating chicken—now someone with the title of Baron? Wouldn’t that be quite rude?

Karem withheld his true thoughts. He merely exchanged unspoken glances with Gordon and their bucket of chicken, questioning if that was really okay.

“Ha, why do you fret so much?”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“Your eyes, they’re saying everything. If munching on chicken is such a problem while escorting, shouldn’t we ditch the swordmaster?”

Gordon pointed at Mary, standing idly at the entrance with a chicken bone.

“Besides, over there, Sir Mage himself is watching over you more keenly than anyone else. Would it really be a problem to eat chicken? Moreover, I’m sure there’ll be an escort from the Steward’s side as well.”

“Well… if you put it that way, I have no retort.”

Ultimately, it was clear that the hustle would take place in the city.

Recalling the chaos faced when battling the Grizzly Beaver in the forest, the worries faded away. Mary also seemed to have some quiet confidence about her.

“Sir Stark. The contractor is waiting, so you should—”

“Wait, am I not to do anything separately?”

Karem asked, grabbing hold of Mary, who was about to leave.

After all, he was technically the chef (in title) and also a steward, so was it okay to just lounge around like this?

Of course, he had done some work since he arrived.

He borrowed the kitchen to prepare breakfast and lunch for Catherine.

And he had also made a snack with Mary.

However, that had been all he had done in the past two days.

Mary tilted her head slightly, as if to imply, “What’s the issue with that?”

“Isn’t what I’m doing pretty much the same as what I did at the Mage Tower?”

“That can’t possibly be the case.”

True, due to various circumstances, especially because of Mary, his responsibilities had dwindled.

But Karem still had plenty of tasks to carry out.

At the Mage Tower, he cooked for the incoming Alicia or visiting guests, mingling with the cooks from Zigmeser during their exchange meetings, and on the side, doing cooking research as a half-hearted pastime.

Though to be honest, aside from the first task, the rest were all personal endeavors.

Indeed.

To lay it out plainly, Karem was bored.

Recognizing this, Mary placed her hands on her hips.

“Honestly. I, too, am refraining from my desire to do various tasks. I think you, Karem, need to cultivate some patience.”

“Are you really telling me that right now?”

“This is not the Mage Tower in Winterhome. The dust visible here and the tasks waiting to be handled are temptingly—no, almost pathetically arduous.”

“It seems like you’re the one struggling more than I am.”

“And the contractor is having lunch today with Lord Wallace Hartman and various business associates, discussing important matters.”

“Oh, does that mean—”

“Anyway, Sir Stark. Let’s get moving.”

Mary left without waiting for Karem’s response. Gordon, who had been mindlessly tearing into his chicken, shrugged at Karem before following her out.

In an instant, the luxurious guest room where Karem stayed became quiet.

Only the scent of chicken and the clean bones remained.

“Hmm…”

Only the faint noise from the city outside the fortress could be heard.

Karem felt restless, not in the mood to do anything, as he stepped down from the chair, removed his shoes, and flopped down onto the adjacent bed. The sheets sank comfortably under him, enveloping his body with the smooth sensation of the silk cover.

He stared blankly at the ceiling.

“I’m so bored.”

Naturally, it was to be expected that no one intimately connected to the important business would be waiting for him; however, it was still extraordinarily dull.

As anticipated, boredom was nowhere to be found in Winterhome.

Every day, he had prepared meals and snacks for visitors like Alicia who would sneak in or Godwin who would suddenly drop by. Rarely, he might stop by the greenhouse, and if that wasn’t in the cards, he’d lock himself away to study cooking…

But here, he was utterly unable to do anything.

As a result, he faced the awkward situation of having to cook lunch by himself.

The troubling matter was that there was still quite some time left until then.

“At least I like the soft bed.”

After a while of flopping around on the bed, kicking his legs or smacking the sheets with his heels, Karem suddenly jumped up with a thought.

His gaze naturally returned to a corner of the extravagant room.

In stark contrast to the lavishness of the room, various bags filled with spices and ingredients were carelessly shoved into an unremarkable corner, beside two wooden barrels.

One contained soy sauce.

The other one…

“Oh, it’s soybean paste. Hmmm.”

Karem stared blankly at the barrel for a moment. After a while, he slowly lowered his legs, slipped on his shoes, and hopped up to stroll towards the barrel, crouching down.

“Hmm…”

Karem had no intention of making soybean paste from the start.

The mere fact that meju was an ingredient for both soy sauce and soybean paste was enough.

It was a sort of serendipity, a two-for-one win.

After all, they both came from the same meju.

Since he was at it, it wouldn’t hurt to make a similar gochujang as well.

In his previous life, when traveling abroad, instead of feeling homesick, he rather enjoyed gorging on local food even when everyone else was having a hard time; thus, the thought of making something because he felt homesick didn’t really pop up post-rebirth.

Thinking back, didn’t he start making soy sauce primarily due to his strict diet?

Anyway, at least for now, that’s how it was.

But, there are moments in life when people think like that.

Like breathing or blinking, actions one usually takes for granted suddenly become something to ponder over.

It’s an impulse.

After dieting diligently for over a year, one suddenly feels an instinctive urge to devour food they hadn’t been able to enjoy for ages, almost as if enchanted.

“Soybean paste stew… hmmm… or rather, I have no tofu or zucchini, so what’s the point?”

Karem muttered, yet his mind was fervently churning out ideas for broth and all sorts of substitute ingredients.

‘For broth, I could use dried kelp and seafood. Even if I don’t have dry seafood, it’s still sufficient. No onion, garlic, or leeks, so I’ll just go with the ground red pepper. The parsnip would have a different taste than potato, but the texture is similar—obviously, I’ve got that on hand.’

Gradually, his mind’s recipe began to take shape.

“Should I… try making soybean paste stew?”

He had no concerns about the smell.

The so-called rumor that soybean paste and gochujang smell bad comes from the active microorganisms that emit odors while the paste is being produced.

Thanks to the one-hundredfold magic container, the fermentation process was complete, and it was more of a pleasant fragrance of oil-roasted beans and nuts, akin to freshly steamed barley than a stench of aged products.

Indeed, cheers to Skadi for successfully fermenting the meju!

Cheers to the magic tool that shortened what would typically take years!

‘Well, since I’ve got soybean paste now.’

There was no reason not to eat it if he was going to eat alone.

‘Then, I must be getting hungry. I should make something to eat.’

His internal clock indicated it was about that time for lunch.

Time had flown by while he idly wiggled his legs on the bed.

Karem mustered the strength to effortlessly lift the wooden barrel.

‘Let’s see. The kitchen should be in this direction.’

Naturally, he was not well-acquainted with the layout of Afterglow Fortress.

It had hardly been a week, or even a few days since he arrived, so it wouldn’t have been possible for him to know every nook and cranny by now.

Nonetheless, he remembered the places he had visited over the past two days well enough, especially the locations of the kitchen and where Catherine, Mary, and Gordon were staying.

Karem stepped out of the room and walked down the corridor toward the kitchen.

Rather than a residence for nobility, Afterglow Fortress had a strong resemblance to a stronghold, lacking extravagant decorations. Nevertheless, it maintained a certain decorum with various artworks adorning the walls.

There were weapons that looked like they could be used at any moment.

Portraits of notable figures and landscapes that seemed suitable for a museum.

But most notably, there was something that stood out more than anything else.

“Wow, those are some ugly beasts.”

Mounted on the wall were various taxidermied heads and leather decorations of fierce beasts and monsters.

Without a doubt, two things drew the eye of anyone passing by in Afterglow Fortress.

Did Winterhome also have leather and taxidermy decoration?

Well, they certainly didn’t have wall-mounted trophies like a wolf hide bigger than a three-headed elephant or the skull of an ancient mammoth that looked like it dated back four thousand years (including ivory) hanging on plaques.

Each taxidermy was a testament to the former might and size of its occupant, and they gave one a sense of the taxidermist’s skill.

“Beasts from cold regions are said to be larger, aren’t they?”

Contemplating trivial thoughts like thermal conductivity and fat content while gazing at the wall-mounted leather and animal heads, Karem was almost distracted from his destination but quickly turned around to enter the kitchen.

‘Every time I see it, this kitchen is truly vast.’

Unlike Winterhome, Afterglow Fortress boasted only a single kitchen.

To feed the many residents of the fortress, the one kitchen was significantly more spacious than most halls. The furnaces, ovens, and pots were all impressively large.

The pièce de résistance was the massive fireplace positioned at the center of the kitchen.

Hairy chefs reminiscent of Vikings were sweating as they turned spits or shifted their positions.

Consequently, numerous animals and hard-to-identify monsters on skewers slowly roasted over the roaring bonfire, sending delightful smoke into the air.

The oil and juices dripping down fed the flames, filling the room with the rich aroma of spit-roasted flavors.

The smoke naturally wafted through the chimney above.

But not before wafting through a plethora of hanging sausages, which were suspended nearby.

The wood fire, juices, and oil smoked the sausages gently.

Slowly, a faint sheen of moisture and fat appeared on the sausages.

That droplet of moisture would fall onto the fire below and once again create a fragrant haze.

“There was nothing like this in Winterhome.”

“That’s only natural! You’d be hard-pressed to find a kitchen or fireplace this massive in all of Highland, let alone the entire Kingdom of Seophone!”

A booming, friendly voice clapped Karem on the back.

 

---