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Karem let out his true feelings and thought, “Oops!”

He had taken an unintentional leap into something he probably shouldn’t have.

The atmosphere grew tense, but fortunately, the other cooks rallied around him, preventing it from escalating.

Still, brisket in soybean paste stew with cheese? That definitely wasn’t right. But that didn’t erase the fact that he had just cursed out loud.

Feeling a nagging sense of guilt, Karem quickly asked Borgo about the location of the temple, picked up the tray, and hurried out of the kitchen.

“But, do other types of dishes ever have cheese in them, even if not soybean paste stew?”

Stew and cheese.

At first glance, that didn’t seem like a match, but the more he thought about it, Karem recalled that quite a few stews surprisingly included cheese.

In fact, it was nearly impossible to find a version of budae jjigae that didn’t have cheese, and some places even added cheddar cheese to kimchi jjigae.

He’d probably overlooked that since he’d never paid attention before.

Could it be that cheese and stew actually pair well together?

In truth, he realized that while the cheese itself seemed like an odd fit, broadening it to dairy revealed far more dishes that enjoyed the company of dairy products than expected.

Cheese-filled kimbap was too famous to even mention.

Franchise instant seolleongtang that contained copious amounts of milk.

Spicy ribs, dak galbi, jjim-dak, served with various types of cheese.

Even corn cheese, which is pretty hard to dislike.

Walking down the wide corridor, carrying a tray piled high with bowls of brisket soybean paste stew and plates topped with brisket, Karem began to wonder if perhaps… just maybe?

But he quickly shook his head, scattering those thoughts away.

No matter how he looked at it, cheese in soybean paste stew crossed a line.

“Anyway, what’s really bothering me…”

Karem stopped before the stairs.

“This is the problem.”

And he turned his body slightly.

In fact, Karem didn’t particularly like stairs.

To be more precise, he was closer to hating them.

When possible, it was always elevators.

And if there was a staircase and an escalator, he was bound to choose the escalator.

Yet, humans are creatures of adaptation.

Reincarnating as a serf and adjusting to reality, Karem had naturally come to accept the humility of using stairs.

After going up and down between Winterhome and the Wizard’s Tower, he had no choice but to adapt. But even that had its limits.

“Dammit. I hope I don’t blow up before I even make it down!”

The stairs were wide and gently sloped.

Moreover, the height of each floor was low.

A child could easily ascend without difficulty.

The issue lay with the Afterglow Fortress.

This wide and lengthy fortress had no other passages to navigate but these stairs.

It was this alone that he had to continuously go up and down.

Furthermore, the breeze from the empty space next to the stairs made his knees feel weak.

The only fortunate thing was that, given the fortress’s size, not only was there the inner and outer fortresses, but a portable shrine was also set up inside the fortress.

Originally, Karem had intended to go down to the shrine inside the inner fortress. However, that thought completely vanished the moment he laid eyes on the stairs.

What good would it be to go all the way down, and then not make a proper sacrifice? There was no way he would commit such sacrilege of offering something that had been battered to his god.

He had no desire to repeatedly go up and down these heights.

Karem collected himself and quickly descended the stairs.

He couldn’t remain uncomfortable forever.

Who knew how much longer he would be there?

Fortunately for Karem, the portable shrine was close to the kitchen.

Once he descended about three floors, he could recognize the portable shrine at a glance.

The entrance was adorned with various animal statues, a sight that was reminiscent of the atmosphere he had seen in Fungusbee and Coldon, as well as Winterhome.

Karem hurried inside.

The portable shrine, ironically named, was surprisingly spacious.

It was certainly as wide as the kitchen he’d just came from.

And despite being labeled “portable,” it was equipped with everything one could imagine.

From the walls to the floor, arranged like an organ, there were candles and murals depicting the achievements of Tutatis, alongside numerous large and small animal sculptures made from various materials, complete with an array of equipment, raw leather, and taxidermied decorations, all filling the portable shrine.

He felt a slight chill as he kept the windows open.

It was manageable, not cold enough to be unbearable, thanks to the flames of the fireplaces arranged throughout the shrine.

In a brief moment of distraction, he forgot his purpose and began to appreciate the surroundings.

At that moment, an old man in priest robes sitting in one corner lifted his head. He closed the book he had been reading with wrinkled hands and slowly got up from his seat.

“Hmm? I’ve never seen you before. I didn’t hear that a new servant had come on board?”

“Oh, I’m Sir Atanitas’s servant.”

“Sir Atanitas, the Chief Magic Consultant of Duke?”

The old man clapped his hands lightly with a worn voice.

“Oh, so you’re the Karem who made that Fried Chicken.”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Indeed. Fried Chicken. It certainly tasted good. I must say my old stomach could only handle a piece, though.”

Indeed. Looking at the wrinkles on the old man’s hands, he seemed to be of the same age as Elder Iona or Lord Hartman, but he didn’t appear to be in good health.

“I’m Rowan. I’m doing my part as a healer, albeit not enough.”

“Ah, but you’re wearing priest robes?”

“I’ve been retired for a long time, but out of courtesy, I can still wear this. Thanks to that, now that the priests are away, I’m temporarily responsible for this small shrine.”

“Uhm, you call this small?”

“For me, it’s quite nice to read books in peace. Until they return, this little shrine only has me to look after it.”

Rowan scanned the shrine that was so empty it felt desolate.

“But what brings you here? That food… is it a sacrifice?”

“Oh, we made new food in the kitchen and I’m here to make an offering…”

“Hmm? New food? By any chance, what time is it now?”

“Uh, lunch hour just passed.”

“Hmm, I see.”

Rowan placed a hand on his belly, shaking his head.

“Has it really gotten that late? I’ll have to hurry back to the kitchen. Well, then, good luck with your prayers.”

“W-wait! You’re just leaving like that?”

“A full corpse looks good even when it’s undead.”

“Shouldn’t you at least give some warnings—”

“As long as you don’t disturb anything or touch anything, you’re free to pray however you like.”

And perhaps unable to resist his hunger anymore, the old man named Rowan swiftly exited the portable shrine, his hunched back almost unbelievable.

Karem was left unattended.

‘…Does it mean it’s okay even if I’m not a priest?’

Or does it mean that it doesn’t matter since he was a former priest? If you were going by cliché, someone like him would surely have a deeper faith. He might even be more skilled too.

More than that, there was something that bothered him.

Karem took a deep breath of the air stirred by the passing old priest.

Thinking about Rowan’s age, it was a rather unsettling thing to do.

But he couldn’t hold back.

‘What is this familiar scent?’

It smelled somewhat like burnt food from the pan.

No, was that the scent of beans nearly burning?

Yet when he inhaled deeply, it was an enchanting softness without bitterness.

The aroma wafted gently, a rich and elegant fragrance mixed with a nutty scent that brushed against his nose.

It vanished almost instantly.

Caught in a moment of temptation, Karem shrugged and moved into the shrine before his brisket and noodles grew cold.

“Well, I must have been starving pretty badly.”

The three deities of the triad wouldn’t look kindly upon believers starving while they prayed. He thought as he stopped in front of the altar.

Though it had cooled a bit, the brisket soybean paste noodles on the tray remained warm.

He was a bit worried about the brisket, but it should be alright even if it got cold.

The statue behind the altar was simpler than what he had seen in Winterhome.

While it was more ornate than what he had seen in Fungusbee, it was still much more detailed.

Karem placed the tray as a whole on the altar, setting down one bowl of brisket soybean paste noodles and one plate of brisket, complete with tableware, in front of the statue. Then he returned to stand in front of the statue.

A barbarian warrior with an axe, each hair and fiber of its robe meticulously depicted.

A woman clothed in a dress embroidered with animals, plants, and snowflakes, with her eyes closed.

A figure wearing a robe, with a raven resting on their shoulder, their gender indiscernible.

“Hmm, no matter how many times I do this, I just can’t adapt.”

He had offered sacrifices and prayed numerous times in Winterhome, yet each encounter with Elder Iona and the other priests left him wondering how he could be alright with this.

‘Isn’t this supposed to be appropriate for just worship, to do all this praying?’

Karem had believed in a god in his previous life.

It didn’t mean he held a specific religion, but he believed that gods existed.

Still, in his previous life, since he couldn’t see them directly, it made him doubt.

But this life was different.

While he didn’t believe in any specific religion, he didn’t have any doubts.

He had seen the gods with his own two eyes, not once but twice.

What’s more, proof of that was hanging heavily on Karem’s chest, clearly asserting its presence.

Therefore, although he didn’t worship them, he held a genuine reverence for them.

Thinking of the achievements he had heard in scriptures and folklore, it was only fitting that the three gods deserved that respect.

‘This does feel a bit like a weight on my conscience.’

Though it was difficult to adapt, he decided to move forward.

He had to finish before the food cooled down and the noodles turned mushy.

Karem briefly sat down, placed his fork into the bowl, then returned to his position and laid flat on the ground.

“U-um, thanks to you, Skadi, I was able to create what I had envisioned. I present this result to you today. It might be a bit cold and soggy, but I ask for your understanding.”

Tap, tick. Tap-tap. Thud.

Karem mumbled awkwardly, yet the only sounds that reached his ears were the crackles of the fireplace.

It felt uncomfortable.

In the shrine at Winterhome, he could merely follow the actions of the priest.

And there were always others around him, praying together.

Now in this portable shrine, there was no one here, which ironically made him feel even more awkward and uncomfortable.

“It felt too much to be doing this alone again. So, I’ll also offer this as a kind of tasting for everyone else. The feedback was generally good, but it might fall short a bit, so I do hope for your understanding. How should I—”

Karem sincerely requested understanding.

He clearly poured various ingredients and brisket into the stew.

The soybean paste was richer than the century-old paste from the ancestral home.

Perhaps it was due to the god’s direct involvement.

However, he still could not surpass the taste of MSG.

It was good, but still, the umami and aftertaste felt like they were missing by about 2%.

And also, considering it was an entirely different world’s dish, there was a chance it might not align with their tastes.

“Still, this was my first time producing and offering—”

Wait a minute, wasn’t the soybean paste supposed to come first?

Thinking back, the intention of his prayer to the triad, specifically to Skadi, was ultimately for the soybean paste.

And the first thing made from the soybean paste was soy sauce.

The first person to serve soy sauce was…

“On a personal note, it was Alicia. And publicly, it was Prince Godwin…?”

What an oversight… No, this couldn’t be. Surely, those divine beings wouldn’t hold such a petty thing against him. Karem believed that to be true.

“Ahem, I will offer an apology for that later as a sacrifice; for now, please accept this and I hope for your forgiveness and satisfaction…”

Feeling a bit pricked at heart, Karem glanced up at the statue as he prayed.

He could see clearly detailed depictions of the two gods, but still, there was no response.

“Was the nameless traveler a special exception?”

It was a fact that the sacrifices made were always consumed. He had always returned to find the plates empty whenever he went to retrieve them. While standing and praying, Karem stumbled as he rose.

“Ugh, I still can’t get used to my legs feeling numb.”

After squatting for a while to pray, his legs started to tingle. Karem gently tapped on his legs as he prepared to leave the shrine, bowing to the statues in farewell.

Then he awkwardly walked out.

And moments later…

Caw caw caw—

The low cawing of a crow echoed through the portable shrine.

 

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