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Gordon returned and crashed into a deep sleep right away.

He briefly woke up to an explosion sound in the middle but went back to sleep, only to rise after a little past the next morning.

If it were up to him, he would have liked to sleep a bit longer. But it was impossible. His empty stomach was making itself heard all over his body.

Obeying instinct, the Swordmaster’s steps led him naturally to the kitchen.

“So…”

And Gordon was now quite confused.

A large cauldron bubbling on the stove, tableware hanging all over the walls, spices stacked on one side of the table, and a mouth-watering delicious aroma wafting from the ceiling, lower shelves, and the air.

The scenery of the kitchen was unchanged.

Except for one person.

“I heard there was a black magic curse since Afterglow Fortress.”

“Yes, Sir Olivier confirmed it.”

“He should have died right on the spot. But somehow he didn’t. And then he had a seizure upon entering the greenhouse?”

“I couldn’t stand it, so Sir Olivier knocked me out.”

“And thanks to a green girl born from some seed and a Holy Relic, you survived, but—”

Gordon looked at Karem up and down, tapping the table with a skeptical expression.

“So you’re saying he suddenly grew all this?”

“Actually, it’s a bit more complicated… But it’s similar. The curse is gone, but they said the growth can’t be helped.”

Gordon waved his hand dismissively and shook his head. What the heck happened while he was sleeping, with a black magic curse and a green girl, plus a Holy Relic all mixed in?

He watched Karem moving around the kitchen.

Not long ago, the boy hadn’t even reached his waist.

And the appearance from just a day ago had completely disappeared.

He had an exotic charm with warm features.

A physique sitting on the verge of becoming a young adult.

And something both familiar yet unfamiliar… whatever that was.

Gordon was well aware of the infamous Curse of Aging and the taboo of black magic.

After all, he was a veteran mercenary and a Swordmaster.

Whether he liked it or not, jobs of that nature often crossed his path.

But was this kid in front of him the result of that curse?

Chomp—

“Anyway, let’s fill up your stomach first. I made plenty.”

Karem slid a bowl in front of Gordon.

The spicy and nutty aroma made Gordon’s head bow instinctively.

The scent of delicious chicken oil, spiced with Fire Witch Finger, mixed with rich green onion fragrance wafted up with the warm steam.

“Oh, is this the hangover chicken soup I had in Borderster?”

“Well, to be precise, it’s a bit different… But there’s tons of stock made by Mary. So it’s here for you to eat along with.”

Karem gave a little shake as he tapped the large pot filled with spicy chicken soup.

The smell was dangerously stimulating to an overly empty stomach that was starting to feel pangs of hunger.

Overwhelmed and unable to restrain himself from focusing on Karem, the logic was drowned out by the spicy aroma that pierced his brain and let loose the party that was his body.

As soon as Karem set the spoon next to the bowl, Gordon’s hand snatched it up eagerly and plunged it into the chicken soup.

A hefty spoon dug into the reddish, oily chicken broth, submerged with tender radishes, green onions, onions, long, appropriately thin mushrooms, and shredded chicken.

No need for further appreciation.

Gordon devoured it right away.

Naturally, the broth and solids were steaming hot enough to incinerate the mouth of any ordinary person.

But Gordon, being sturdy in all regards, had an empty stomach from sleeping all day.

The level of heat was just a tasty enhancement to him.

The spiciness hit the tongue like a strike.

His tongue began to convulse like a fire breaking out, only to be quelled briefly by the ensuing broth and solids before starting all over again.

The rich chicken oil wrapped around his mouth, spreading the refreshing broth that captured the sweetness of the vegetables, and he unconsciously swallowed it all.

All that remained on his tongue was the spicy and tingling sensation along with the solids.

As Gordon reflexively moved his teeth, the solids had long been tenderized and posed no resistance.

The radish and onion crumbled like wet mud.

The green onion fell apart like decades-old fabric with no resistance.

And chicken was scattered like a crumbling sandcastle.

The last remaining piece of food with any resistance was the mushrooms.

The thin, long mushrooms neither too thick nor too thin crunched with an “crunch, crunch” sound every time he chewed, releasing the broth and oil it had absorbed during the boiling.

The last bit of broth pushed away the remnants of chicken like grains of sand from a collapsed sandcastle.

Yet, even the slightest remaining bits of chicken residue bothered him, prompting Gordon’s spoon to move back toward the bowl.

Before he could even taste the lingering rich and savory flavor of the chicken soup, he shoveled in a hefty serving of solids along with a splash of broth.

And only when Gordon filled his mouth could he sense the satisfaction he could only feel then. Normally, chewing would be nearly impossible, but the softened vegetables crumbled apart without giving him any trouble. Except for the mushrooms.

Gordon’s relentless gorging revealed no decorum of nobility or etiquette.

Karem didn’t mind.

After all, he was enjoying it so much.

Without taking a breath, Gordon finished the chicken soup before finally setting down his spoon and tipping the bowl to gulp down whatever broth remained.

“Ahhhhhh—”

He exhaled deeply, filled with satisfaction.

It seemed the world may be different, but people had strikingly similar and familiar exclamations, which surprised Karem a bit.

“Oh, the soul-stirring satisfaction.”

“One more bowl, please!”

“There’s as much as you want, so slow down a bit—”

“No, just bring the whole pot here!”

As he desired, the pot brimming with chicken soup landed right in front of Gordon, who eagerly picked up the ladle and started devouring it straight away.

“Will you please eat slowly?”

“Wow. I had no idea that spicy and rich broth could taste this delicious with my empty stomach after starving all day.”

Gordon, lost in inhaling the soup, eventually noticed he was filled enough to be a little leisurely and asked Karem.

“Is the Madam Mage sick?”

“Yes. She has a cold. Right now, she’s eaten a snack in the morning and is fast asleep.”

“Oh, what was the snack?”

“I cooked a steamed pear for her.”

And as he described it further, Gordon’s face grew increasingly curious while focusing on the soup before suddenly contorting.

“Ugh, pepper in dessert? What the heck is that?”

“Believe it or not, it’s actually fine? Lady Alicia ate it too.”

“The Princess was here too?”

“Yes. Well, she did scream when she chewed on whole peppercorns.”

Yet, even when told she managed to consume several bowls of the solids and drink, it narrowed Gordon’s eyes.

What nation in the world would stuff pepper into dessert? No matter how open-minded Alicia was, it would definitely be too intense for her soft, delicate tongue.

“Sir Atanitas’s opinion was surprisingly favorable, saying it matched surprisingly well.”

“Really? It’s not that her taste buds were dulled due to her cold?”

“She polished off the entire chicken soup you prepared.”

“Will you have it later if you’re curious?” Karem asked, and without a word, Gordon nodded.

Peas, honey, dates, ginger, various nuts were one thing, but pepper?

At least honey, ginger, and pepper were said to be good for a cold.

“Now that you put it that way, I’m kind of curious.”

“I have unlimited ingredients, so I’ll make it for you later.”

“Huh? Do you have a schedule or something?”

“Well… I do have one.”

Karem couldn’t hide his discomfort and shifted his gaze.

He had just heard from Catherine. The nameless traveler had been looking for him. Plus, he had even been a little down about not finding him.

Why on earth would a God come looking for him? (Considering how surprisingly light-footed a noble couple can be, setting that aside) When he mulled it over, he could think of only one reason for someone to be looking for him.

‘Did he enjoy the chicken I made back then?’

The more he reminisced about their first meeting, the more certain he became. How could he not feel deeply satisfied to the point of chewing even the bones and gnawing the remaining flesh off them?

Karem, not having thought that someone might just have a preference, poured oil into the pot with a guilty conscience.

“Huh? Oil? Are you going to fry something?”

“Yes. The person I’m meeting loves Fried Chicken.”

“What? Fried Chicken?”

At that word, Gordon’s eyes sparkled.

Yeah, that sounded about right.

But not this time.

“Unfortunately, that pot is all for you.”

“Hey, boiled chicken and fried chicken are different things!”

“But there’s not enough for you to have any.”

“How much am I going to eat?”

“Um? Did you suddenly forget what a conscience feels like?”

Karem spotted the gluttonous eater. The glutton had brazenly devoured more than half of the chicken soup meant for dozens of servings.

But in truth, humans find it hard to be satisfied with just one.

Having devoured the chicken soup, Gordon now yearned for even more.

Specifically, the chicken that Karem was making right now.

His appetite, incited by the spicy soup, craved greasy and nutty things to eat.

In that sense, Fried Chicken was the optimal choice.

A crispy coating deep-fried in oil, the hot chicken oil heated until crispy, and chicken meat that shredded easily with a bite.

Plus, the soup he just ate was made from chicken, and the Fried Chicken would also be made of ‘chicken’, which made it the ultimate combination as the Bersengzeto Elves would say.

Mariage

Of course, if the prideful Bersengzeto Elf were to find out about this thought, Gordon’s head would surely be smashed with a wine bottle.

Gordon cleared the bowl and picked up the pot that was beginning to show its bottom.

Then, he tipped it back and downed it in one go.

“Done! Now, just a piece for a palate cleanser.”

“There’s no broth left. What do you mean, a piece?”

“What’s the big deal? It’s just one piece—”

Knock—

Karem halted.

What did he just say? Just one piece?

“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-!!!!!!”

“W-what? Go?”

“Chicken should be parched and satisfying when fully devoured! If you take out just one piece, the balance of wings, ribs, and legs will be thrown off! Just one piece?”

“Hey, calm down. You’re all worked up.”

“I am being perfectly serious here.”

“And if it’s one pair, then just give me the breast…”

“The chicken breast only looks like one piece, but in reality, there are two, you know!”

Karem slammed both hands on the table.

Then pointed a finger at Gordon.

“Didn’t you already plan to steal one piece and then devour the whole chicken?!”

“Well, that has been exposed.”

“If you’re done, hurry and leave!”

“What about that dessert you made with the pepper drink—”

“Just eat it quickly and get out of here!”

So Gordon, heeding Karem’s instruction, soon finished the steamed pear and got up neatly to leave the kitchen.

While he had watched Karem with the eyes of a predator set on making Fried Chicken while making and devouring the steamed pear.

After getting rid of Gordon, Karem stared for a long while at the swinging door before intently surveying the mound of chicken piled up.

And he heaved a sigh of relief.

“I was worried I’d forget something.”

If the terrifying Swordmaster started stuffing his face at an invisible speed, there would be no way to stop him. Would Mary be able to stop him? Not sure.

Had Gordon heard him say that before leaving the kitchen, he would undoubtedly feel wronged.

The nobleman Sir Bolton, the Swordmaster, Gordon Stark.

He wouldn’t go back on his word over something like this.

Or probably wouldn’t.

 

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