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The Coming-of-Age Ceremony was approaching moment by moment, but there was no rehearsal to ensure a smooth process.

Karem found this fortunate.

With the time-consuming task of preparing sacrifices and gifts in the greenhouse during work, he had no time for other bothersome tasks.

Of course, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was really okay.

But that was just excessive worry.

The reason was simple.

“Well, if we practice, it’ll just look like we’re concerned about appearances. Doesn’t that seem inauthentic?”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed. Just keep that in mind for now.”

Thinking back, there was no rehearsal during Wintersend either.

Still, thanks to Elder Iona, he had grasped the general order of events.

1. Participants gather in the main square, attendees wait in the Great Hall.

2. Participants enter the Great Hall following the guidance of priests.

3. The Coming-of-Age Ceremony begins. The participants who are called stand still, offer their sacrifices, and return to their places.

4. Repeat step 3 until all participants have offered their sacrifices.

Karem felt both nervous and somewhat uneasy.

He had almost no memories of the past life related to such events, let alone any experience to look forward to.

However, he had directly participated in the grand event of Wintersend. The order of the proceedings was quite similar.

Still, he thought he would feel nervous on the day of the ceremony, but he wasn’t particularly anxious.

The number of people gathered in the square was small.

No, if you counted all the vassals of the Felwinter Family, knights, employees, and various acquaintances, it definitely wasn’t a small number.

Yet compared to Wintersend, it was like comparing a drop in the bucket.

It wasn’t even on the same level as the grime under a fingernail.

Still, there was one aspect in which it didn’t lose to Wintersend.

“Why, if it isn’t Giant Churchill Junior! Quite the grand stature, just like your father, the renowned Swordmaster!”

“I smashed that damn thing’s head, you know. It was unavoidable.”

“Ah, are you possibly insulting my honor?”

“Would you like some roasted almonds?”

Even without bards or hawkers, it was at least as noisy as Wintersend, if not more!

No exaggeration there.

Karem grimaced at the ear-splitting noise.

But this was simply unavoidable.

As he had thought before, the communication technology of Europa consisted solely of people, horses, or similarly capable beasts and monsters running and flying with effort.

Compared to modern Earth civilization, it was utterly insignificant.

Of course, there was some technological equivalent.

Like magic tools capable of two-way or one-way communication and crystal spheres.

But compared to Earth civilization’s advancements that allowed sending photos and videos across the globe in seconds, it was merely a goblin showing off its strength before a Swordmaster.

The problem was that even that fine technology was wasted on videos of cats knocking over water glasses and indescribable awkward photos, yet similar occurrences were likely happening on Europa as well.

Neighborhoods where people live tend to be quite similar.

The sentiments may differ slightly, but there’s the same underlying essence.

Thus, it was crucial for the participants in the Coming-of-Age Ceremony to take this time for face-to-face exchanges and networking.

Everyone here was a future power player.

So Karem had no choice but to remain in attendance.

He had no intention of leaving.

“Is it really true that you are the exclusive cook for that renowned Chief Magic Consultant?”

“If that were falsehood, I’d have been in serious trouble long ago.”

“I heard you grew stronger due to a curse, though.”

“Honestly, I’m just as amazed that I haven’t died of old age.”

“Karem! Are you really going to just release the recipes freely? Every one of them is worth the secrets of the family and the craftsman!”

“Regardless, it’s obvious they’ll spread one way or another.”

“Well, if they’re that good, there will be many thieves.”

“Better to officially spread them so they go far and wide rather than having them spread casually behind the scenes; that way, I can rest easy.”

“Far and wide, you say?”

“What fun is there in eating something delicious alone?”

For Karem, this was rather taxing.

Not as a joke; it truly was quite a struggle.

Even a decade after reincarnation, a person’s nature doesn’t change easily just because time has passed.

To put it bluntly, the situation of unknown individuals approaching him to speak was beyond uncomfortable.

Karem, who hadn’t forgotten the modern tendency for social distancing, felt as if he were standing on a needle cushion, doing a handstand.

This discomfort was inevitably sensed by those around him.

They were built to perceive others’ gazes from birth.

If they didn’t notice his evident flinches, they would be lacking in ability.

‘The cook hidden beneath the veil of the renowned Chief Magic Consultant.’

‘Was the rumor about the Wintersend far more accurate than I thought?’

‘I’d love to get an autograph if I get the chance.’

‘If I build connections here, I might get at least some crumbs of opportunity.’

‘If there’s no sweetheart to train, one can simply cultivate someone into a lover. What an astonishing method.’

‘The de facto owner of the Akusare Oil Guild…’

But they had absolutely no intention of letting Karem go.

In any case, Karem was notoriously reclusive.

Moreover, due to Catherine’s virtually monopolistic control that was considered almost a silent truth, it was even difficult to communicate by letter.

Therefore, the current time for forming ties with the protagonist of the rumors was an opportunity they couldn’t afford to miss.

Though Karem found it a torment.

Fortunately, there was an end in sight.

Woo-whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo-

A priest walked forward among the participants and blew a conch.

The profound resonance spread out, shaking the castle as the noisiness ceased, and all attention was directed toward one place.

Karem sighed and followed the crowd that gathered the sacrifices.

*

Unlike Wintersend, which was elaborately decorated with candles, magic tools, torches, and adorned with various ornaments and paintings, the Coming-of-Age Ceremony held a more subdued atmosphere.

Banners carved with axes and patterns depicting wind and snowflakes adorned the walls.

Countless wooden sculptures of animals and monsters were arranged as if to direct the attendees toward this way.

Where there were no banners, various trophies of monsters and beasts hung down, watching over the participants.

‘Quiet, and decorations are indeed decorations.’

With its atmosphere alone, it was altogether different from the lively early atmosphere of the Wintersend infused with jesters and minstrels.

The vast Great Hall had about a quarter of its space empty, but the platform surrounded by hundreds of candles near the royal seats and the priests, led by Elder Iona, stood tall.

In the center was a massive campfire, slowly burning, with smoke wafting up to the ceiling.

On the food-covered royal table were giant wooden sculptures of Tutatis and Skadi, along with a nameless Traveler, intensifying the solemn mood with only the sound of breaths and footsteps resonating.

Glancing around, everyone wore tense expressions.

‘Well, making a ruckus out here would draw attention in this situation.’

There wasn’t even any chatter.

The gaze was collectively directed toward all the participants, yet felt less personal, making him all the more comfortable.

‘By the way, I wonder where those two are.’

Speaking of the devil, Karem spotted his two attendants right in front of the crowd, watching him with indifferent expressions.

It seemed they had noticed him too.

Mary subtly lifted her hand, while Catherine raised an eyebrow.

‘So I can expect the sacrifice and gift, right?’

‘Oh please, who do you think I am? Of course, that’s a given.’

As he passed the foremost Catherine and Mary, the crowd split into two around the campfire.

Alfred stepped forward and ascended onto the platform.

The subsequent order felt somewhat familiar.

It was similar to Wintersend.

“Half of those present here must remember how Iceland was in the past.”

At those words, an echo of silence filled the solemn Great Hall.

“Now, it’s a bitter tale. You, the children who are about to become adults, understand that the fierce events of that time are only vague memories for you.”

Spoken to the fire, Alfred calmly looked around the aspiring young adults standing beside the flames.

“Therefore, you must remember this one thing: do your utmost at every moment, but don’t lose your composure. Care for one another, and don’t overextend yourselves too much in giving. And drink in moderation.”

“My lord, that’s three things.”

“…Did I say to remember just one?”

The serious atmosphere shifted momentarily with the sudden interjection, turning into muffled chuckles.

“Since this is a solemn occasion, hold back your laughter. I will conclude my words here.”

Alfred maintained his solemnity until he stepped behind the campfire, passing the baton to Elder Iona, who lumbered up to the platform.

‘So the offering is done just like at Wintersend?’

It was somewhat similar but slightly different.

The called individuals stepped forward with their offerings, placed them at the altar, chanted blessings, and had oil smeared on their heads.

Once all was done, they tossed their offerings into the campfire and returned to their places.

The offerings thrown into the flames were as varied as those during Wintersend.

Bone ornaments, faintly glowing wooden sculptures, large swords, dreamcatchers, hand axes, bags full of silver coins, and so on.

‘Am I the only one who prepared food?’

He casually glanced around the still-unannounced individuals.

For now, there were no visible hands holding anything.

It was ambiguous if it was good or bad.

‘Well, they might have prepared small portioned items like me.’

While glancing around and lost in thought for a moment.

“Karem!”

Karem stepped forward.

His gaze naturally turned toward the campfire.

The offerings that had been placed earlier were blazing fiercely.

No, it wasn’t just blazing; they were burning and melting away.

As they burned and melded into the flames, Karem sensed a familiar divine yet cold energy accompanied by the tremendous heat of the campfire.

‘Is it because of Divine Power?’

[Correct, Reincarnator.]

“Ah, as I expected?”

Suddenly, he recalled that the weapons thrown into the flames during Wintersend had also melted away, and then—”Agh!”

Thunk—sharp pain throbbed in his head unexpectedly.

He felt dizzy, like he had run headlong into a telephone pole.

“Uh… Wait, did I just run into something?”

Rubbing his throbbing head, Karem looked around.

The campfire, the participants of the coming-of-age ceremony, guardians, wooden sculptures, everything was in the Great Hall.

None of it felt quite right.

Ancient trees that looked thousands of years old.

Grass that grew up to his waist.

Icicles with various patterns resembling snowflakes hanging from the ends of branches like chandeliers.

Whenever a gentle breeze blew, they chimed musically.

The vivid life force was overwhelming.

Each particle felt like it was permeating his skin with every breath he took.

He felt slightly dazed.

“What in the world…”

[Oh, you’re quicker to regain your wits than I expected.]

“What? Uh…”

The rambunctious, hearty, yet playful voice he’d heard before rang in his ears.

Karem turned his head toward the voice.

A warrior with a beard braided and cloaked in fur and leather approached, thumping Karem on the back.

“Cough!”

[First-timers usually can’t breathe or think properly and writhe on the floor in pain.]

“Uh… Is this voice… is it Lord Tutatis?”

[Yep. Is this the third time we’ve met? No, second, I think.]

“Where the heck am I?”

[Issviðr.]

“What?”

Where on earth is that?

 

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