---

Chicken Soup.

In my past life, it seemed that traditional and typical cold remedies from Western countries were quite similar, likely due to the similarities in ingredients and geography, and it turned out, Europa was no exception.

Due to a not-so-great first impression and biases, it was true that, contrary to Karem’s understanding, chicken soup was indeed quite similar to samgyetang and chicken porridge.

The soup, made by simmering a whole chicken with vegetables until the meat fell off the bone, was almost indistinguishable from samgyetang as long as things like ginseng and herbal ingredients were included when served hot.

Despite Karem’s previous biases, he was unwittingly following the proper recipe for chicken soup.

“Hi, Hih-Choo!”

“Are you alright?”

“Ahem. It’s just the initial symptoms. Focus on your work.”

“You’re getting louder.”

As Karem was just about to chop the vegetables, he set the knife down for a moment.

Chicken soup and mulled wine.

Originally, they were supposed to be served together, but it seemed that the mulled wine was needed first.

Thanks to Catherine’s curse, he’d have to keep running back and forth to the kitchen, but that was no problem.

Unlike samgyetang, making chicken soup was quite easy.

Thanks to Mary, the ingredients were almost all prepared.

Karem paused the vegetable preparation and placed another pot on the cooking range, pouring the entire bottle of wine into it.

Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle—

Then he chopped all the prepared fruits in half, mercilessly dicing their skins and flesh.

“Hey, kid. You don’t really need to put that much effort into the fruit for the mulled wine, do you?”

“I’m trying to make it faster.”

The original recipe took a long time for the soup to steep even after it was ready.

So, this was a shortcut.

Whether cooking or making drinks, smaller ingredients cooked faster.

“It might not look great.”

“I can tell just by looking. You butchered it.”

Ignoring Catherine’s snide remarks, Karem threw the diced fruits and juice into the pot along with some cinnamon sticks, adding plenty of sugar as well.

‘Hah, this might do the trick.’

As the pot began to boil, Catherine’s expression softened. The cold and dry nose began to warm with the scent of a tangy aroma.

Satisfied with Catherine’s slightly relaxed expression, Karem picked up the knife again.

“Hmm. Is it because my body suddenly grew?”

He carefully prepared the vegetables.

Chop—chop—chop—chop—

Though it wasn’t flashy, it was markedly different from before, and he worked quickly.

‘The chopping feels slow. Maybe I’m still not used to it.’

For a moment, Catherine watched Karem’s back, nodding at her own conclusion.

And she wasn’t entirely wrong.

Compared to before, his hands were half the size.

Weaker muscles and shorter arms.

A completely different balance due to all that.

Even with the clear memories of an adult, transitioning back into a child’s body required some time to readjust.

Chop—clack, clack, clack, crackle, crackle, crackle—

Thanks to having gone through it once before, he adjusted quickly, swiftly chopping up all the vegetables.

*

*

*

Mulled wine, which he had many times, was especially precious today because it was cold and flu season.

Basically, scents travel farther and deeper when warm.

Slurp—

The subtle aroma of oranges, the tangy scent of lemons, and the intense smell of limes tickled his warmed nose as the taste of mulled wine entered his mouth.

Thanks to the excess sugar, the initial sip overpowered the grape aroma of the wine, leaving only a rich sweetness.

If this continued, his tongue would tire quickly.

However, just when he felt that way, the citrus fruits’ flesh burst with a crisp crunch and a sudden explosion of flavors, claiming their ground for a moment.

The wine’s dry flavor followed behind, while the cinnamon scent gently warmed his cold, dry mouth and tongue.

Whoo—

Catherine silently lifted her glass, exhaling a deep breath filled with satisfaction.

“Whoo… it’s decent enough.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“It certainly doesn’t look appealing.”

Catherine nodded her head downward.

The mulled wine in Karem’s silver cup was a sorry sight that rendered its once-special taste quite irrelevant.

Shamefully butchered bits rested in the bottom.

The peels and pulp of the oranges, limes, and lemons had been stained and marred by the wine’s color, with slender cinnamon sticks standing upright like a mast amidst the wreckage.

“Well, the appearance is a result of my effort to make it quickly—”

“That’s why I’m eating it without comments.”

Taste matters for food.

But appearance is equally important.

The wealthy elite of ancient Rome spent a fortune hiring sculptors for decorative dishes to impress guests, and people claimed those beautiful dishes looked delicious.

A visually appealing dish often looks tasty.

In that context, Karem’s mulled wine? To put it bluntly, it resembled a rainbow that got gnawed and spilled into a purple liquid.

“Slurp. But can that chicken soup on the cooking range just keep boiling away like that?”

“Just waiting for the meat to cook. I’ve adjusted the fire to low, so it won’t boil over or burn.”

Karem responded to Catherine confidently. As long as he controlled the heat well, there was no way for the food or the surrounding area to go wrong.

“Sure. Well, if you the chef says so, I suppose it must be. By the way, did your meeting with Elder Iona go well?”

Karem immediately detailed everything except the ‘advice’ he received from Iona.

While glancing at the cooking range, Catherine nodded slowly, sipping the mulled wine Karem offered.

But then, her expression suddenly twisted.

“What? The priest’s suggestion? Who’s that from?”

“Elder Iona.”

“To whom?”

“To me.”

“Did she just mention awakening divine power? Well, it isn’t just any divine power.”

“She was surprised that at my age, it’s been a while since anyone awakened it. Talking about capabilities and residues and all that.”

“Oh.”

Catherine realized something. It hit her that Karem, despite now being large, was once an eleven-year-old kid who had a long way to go until coming-of-age.

The timing and age for awakening divine powers vary drastically.

Catherine knew that much, but she had never heard of anyone awakening at such a young age.

For some reason, Karem’s peculiarity caught her off guard, and while trying to shift her gaze toward Karem, she diverted again to the pot on the cooking range just before their eyes met.

She was having a hard time accepting that face.

Meanwhile, Karem was undergoing a similar internal conflict.

‘Ah, I messed up.’

Iona’s advice. Step One.

Create an atmosphere through conversation naturally.

Karem understood the importance of atmosphere.

He even knew that the best example of utilizing that was the “suspension bridge effect.”

But perhaps due to having been too comfortable in their exchanges, they ended up drifting into the usual small talk that didn’t serve a purpose.

And the real problem was that all of Iona’s advice started with creating an atmosphere through conversation.

Karem pondered deeply.

No matter how much they talked, he had no experience making an atmosphere.

He had heard the theory but doubted even forming the starting point.

“Uhm, do you have anything to say?”

“…Did you see that I was just looking over there?”

“If your expression is changing rapidly in a brief moment, wouldn’t it be weirder not to notice?”

So everything was visible to her, just like that? He thought she was looking elsewhere.

Setting down the mulled wine, Karem buried his face in his hands.

Catherine tapped the table lightly.

“Well, I’m your employer. So let’s see how grand your worries really are.”

“I like you.”

And so it tumbled out.

He let it all out just as it was.

“Wha—? Huh?”

As he lifted his buried face, he found Catherine’s expression frozen, as startled as a cat that just heard thunder.

“W-What?”

“Yes. Just as you heard. It’s an affection, not just a preference; it’s love.”

And then, as if a dam had burst, words began to flow from him.

“My life was agonizing until I met Sir Atanitas. Violence and indifference were constant, and unlike the other serfs, I couldn’t even eat properly. I had to catch mice and bugs just to survive.”

The vivid memories of abundance in his prior life only magnified the intensity of his suffering.

A perfect recall from a work of fiction once claimed that forgetting is the greatest blessing a person can possess. Karem hadn’t understood that in his past life, but now he did.

“When the village was attacked, my escape wasn’t just from a desire to flee but a thought that it would be better to just go out and die rather than live that way. And—”

He nurtured an uncertain hope that perhaps dying could return him to his previous world.

Karem was desperate.

‘But it sure was funny how I couldn’t stand being hungry.’

That’s when he ran into Catherine and Gordon while barely fulfilling his hunger in the woods.

“At that time, my head was filled with the thought of being lucky, and I probably fell in love at first sight. No, I’m sure of it.”

“What, what?”

By now, the advice Iona had given was nowhere to be found.

He felt he had messed up, but it was too late.

Let’s see what Catherine says next; the thought made him freeze up again.

So there was only one answer.

He poured it all out before she could close the door on him.

“Yes. I know the atmosphere is ruined. But now that I’ve started speaking, I’ll spill everything!”

“Hih, Hih-Choo! Wait a moment—”

“Honestly, it would be strange if I didn’t fall for you. You provided a place for a boy who fled after being oppressed. You gave me money, and even encouraged me to pursue what I want to do. What kind of man wouldn’t fall for that?”

With each word, Karem felt lighter.

Meanwhile, the fear of rejection grew larger.

Wasn’t it natural?

The atmosphere was long gone. He had merely spilled out his thoughts, and Catherine wasn’t feeling too well either.

However, Karem had only one excuse to offer himself.

If he didn’t lay it all out like this, he feared he wouldn’t have the chance again until the day he almost died.

So he did it.

He let it all out.

The mulled wine in the center of the table grew lukewarm.

Amid that, the tired Catherine’s face, drenched in emotions, spun around in turmoil.

Having reached the peak of a grand wizard on her own,

Using logic to understand the essence of things.

Experiencing mastery through fire.

All those years whispered to her.

The words she had suffered through were entirely true, and the heartfelt sentiments of Karem were contained within them.

‘A kid? Toward me?’

Catherine could neither question nor provide an answer, merely opening and closing her mouth.

Normally, one would easily respond with either a positive affirmation, denial, or change the subject, but she couldn’t do any of that.

The reason was simple.

Catherine had never experienced such a thing.

Or rather, she hadn’t even received a confession of any kind.

One might wonder how that could be possible given her looks and age, but it made perfect sense to her.

Decades spent under Olivier’s tutelage.

Months more spent in pursuit of becoming a grand wizard.

And over a century of journeying through immortality until reaching sage-like status.

In total, nearly 300 years.

Even if she praised herself for having talent, she had spent a hundred years purely delving into magic studies.

To put it bluntly, after working through university and grad school, she had no time left for romance.

And the time that she had managed to spare had to be meticulously utilized for gaining experience, honing her skills, or building a budget.

So how was she supposed to respond? Yet as her heart clouded with confusion, her mind spun crazily, analyzing the situation.

Catherine felt her head growing warmer.

No, no. She felt a short circuit taking place in her brain.

‘Wait. I need to respond—’

With her mind uncoordinated and her fatigued body giving way.

A confused heart and a racing mind working hard.

A brand-new experience loomed before her.

“I…”

As the mulled wine grew cold, she opened her mouth.

“Yo-you insolent little brat! Even if your body has grown, your mind is still that of a child! Do you think I could accept your confession?”

Karem, waiting for a response, perked up at once.

Is age the problem?

“What if I’m no longer the eleven-year-old kid you’ve seen before?”

“Wh-What do you mean? Wait, what?”

“Yes. I possess memories from my past life.”

“What? Past life—”

Clang—!

The sudden sound drew both Karem and Catherine’s heads toward the kitchen entrance.

A shabby-robed figure appeared.

An elf with a tired expression and a long hood flopped to the sides.

Narque, looking both startled and slightly excited, stammered.

A mug that was responsible for the noise rolled at his feet.

“I-I just wanted to make some mulled wine, you see. I was wondering if I could have a glass—”

“…Where do I even begin?”

“Uh, K-Karem said that Sir Atanitas…”

Thud! Karem squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head against the table.

The prickling embarrassment creeping up his spine!

And Catherine felt the same.

Her mind was spinning while forcing itself to function.

Confusion and analytical thoughts raced against one another.

With embarrassment and contempt,

The red shame blossomed rapidly, starting from her fingertips and soaking through her arms, shoulders, neck, and finally exploding in her head.

And then, it reached a breaking point.

Thud—

“W-wait! Sir Atanitas?!”

“Wha-What happened!? We need to move you—!”

Catherine’s mind short-circuited as she reached her limit.

 

---