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Alicia’s attempt was thwarted in an instant.

But this proved one thing.

At least, the taste of the dishes was guaranteed.

Despite the grotesque appearance of the ingredients, the array of dishes prepared on the table looked delectable from any angle.

Moreover, with the barriers in their hearts lowered, the nutty, oily, and sweet-salty aroma that wafted up stimulated their appetites.

“It’s just because the ingredients are Mimics. The taste should be alright.”

“Wasn’t that always the case?”

“True. The Fire Witch Finger and vanilla were like that too.”

Clatter—

Alfred, who was attentively observing Alicia’s gluttony, served some Jjamppong into a bowl.

“So how does Servianus prepare dishes with such squid-like Mimics? Or rather, octopus?”

“Stews, soups, pasta, paella, arancini, risotto, and so on.”

“Just as expected from Servianus, it’s diverse.”

“Of course, since rice is expensive, commoners usually eat the three dishes mentioned earlier. Oh, they also have salads.”

“The last three dishes are new to me.”

“More than that, I’ve never seen them baked into dough.”

“…Wait, what did you just say?”

Karem, who was feeling a nostalgic taste missing some bonito flakes, suddenly perked up.

“Hm? Were you talking about the dough thing?”

“No, no. Not that. Did you just mention rice?”

“Yeah. Is there a problem?”

What could be a problem when everything he mentioned before was problematic?

Rice? Did he just say rice?

‘Thinking about it, it’s not entirely nonsensical.’

In a situation akin to European countries in his past life, it made sense that Servianus, which resembled Italy, would have rice. Ancient Rome is said to have eaten rice too.

However, the word “rice” held a special weight for him.

After all, he had spent his entire past life eating it as a staple.

‘Ah, I want to eat rice.’

Karem shook his head at Catherine’s questioning gaze, awkwardly brushing it off and reaching for the calamari Alicia had returned to its original position.

Crisp—

“Speaking of which, this Mimic fry somehow feels Servianus-like.”

“Is there a similar item there?”

“Yeah. Servianus’s fried squid has a batter mixed with spices and is deep-fried too.”

“It seems they have plenty of oil then?”

“Of course, since olives are native there.”

The crunchy texture and the punch of garlic were pleasantly enveloped by a subtle spice aroma, with the chewy texture and nutty flavor mingling delightfully.

After a long time, the taste that made his tongue rejoice with memories from his past life was pleasant, yet no matter how many times he grabbed for more, the thrill did not deepen.

The Jjamppong he had just thought of.

The Takoyaki he had been devouring just moments ago.

The traditional squid fry from the snack shop was the same.

Karem’s head was already filled with the word “rice,” flipping through old recipes from his past life to this one like a madman.

‘Ah, damn it, I want to eat rice.’

Some might say he’s making a fuss over rice alone.

But I can assure you that those who say such things would understand if they were forcibly kept from even smelling rice for eleven years.

‘I want to scoop up hot soup with rice, shred some kimchi, and eat!’

Namul Bibimbap, various styles of Chinese fried rice, spicy stir-fried chicken, and potato soup topped with fried rice…

Even rice from electric chicken, kimbap, sushi, musubi, risotto, nasi goreng, paella.

‘At the very least, I want some soy sauce butter rice.’

Of course, it wouldn’t be the same rice he commonly ate in his past life.

The countries that primarily consumed it are extremely few on a global scale.

The rice used in Western cuisine is likely indica.

It must be lightweight, long-grain rice that looks like it could fly away with the wind.

“Could you describe how that rice looks?”

“Hmm? It’s weaker and lighter than wheat grains and elongated.”

With Catherine’s words, Karem tentatively stifled his hopes.

It didn’t matter, though.

Long-grain has its own advantages.

Except for a handful of cooking methods from China, Korea, and Japan, other rice dishes are often much tastier with long-grain rice, like fried rice.

Yet, his disappointment lingered.

‘…Wait. It’s not as if there aren’t alternatives.’

I’m not talking about oats.

‘Barley exists.’

Barley was quite common as well in Iceland.

What a fool Karem was to realize it only now?

Dealing mostly with oats, barley from Adobice was used vaguely for beer or animal feed.

Of course, it differed from the variety he had eaten in his past life, but nonetheless, it was barley.

Steaming it makes barley rice, so that’s not different.

As Karem resolved to make bibimbap with barley despite Catherine’s mixed expression of unease and suspicion, Alfred was continually gulping down the Jjamppong.

Slurp—

“Ugh. Ahem. This is quite embarrassing.”

The rich umami punch from the first bite hit hard.

Cool flavors flooded in from the broth after that.

The subtle sweetness and crunchy vegetables added a smoky layer, surprising him with a curveball.

With every chew of the chewy Mimic and tender pork, the goodness of both sea and land mingled delightfully in his mouth.

As he swallowed the vegetables and meat along with the broth, a strong garlic aroma heated his mouth, carrying the signature spiciness of the Fire Witch Finger.

‘…I want to drink beer.’

No. Alfred internally rejected the thought he just entertained.

While the Mimic stew was indeed oily, the aftertaste was clean. That meant there was specific alcohol suited for it.

Not fruit wine like white wine.

It needed to be something potent and fiery, like honey liquor.

‘Haa—’

But he couldn’t drink at that moment.

Maybe yesterday, but not today.

They had to discuss how to handle, calculate, and distribute the enormous loot the huge Mimic had spewed forth.

Surely, they would have to work late into the night until they organized the campsite and set out again.

Of course, no one would dare complain if the Duke wished to have a drink. Yet Alfred preferred to work with a clear mind. Honey liquor was out of the question. A glass of wine might be acceptable…

‘Wine wouldn’t fit the bill, it seems.’

Instead, Alfred tried to soothe his mind by eating fried squid and Takoyaki, yet his unease continued to grow.

“Dad. Is that red soup delicious?”

“Yeah. It’s perfect for this father’s palate. Why? Do you want to try it?”

Alicia nodded vigorously as her answer. Alfred spooned some Jjamppong into her bowl.

Slurp—

“Oh, oh oh.”

“You seem to like it.”

“The broth is rich, oily yet spicy and hot, warming my heart! The meat is firmer than clams, yet so chewy, and it harmonizes perfectly with the vegetables!”

“Your vocabulary is improving day by day.”

As Alfred spoke, Poppins felt rewarded by his teachings, while Alicia, with a serious expression, tasted the broth, vegetables, meat, and again the broth.

“Karem. I think it would suit pasta better than eating it as it is…”

Her genuine reflection poured forth naturally.

And one had to acknowledge, more than anything, her tongue was sharp.

“It should be cooked softer and chewier instead, right?”

“You know! But why wasn’t it added now?”

“It was too late to make the dough.”

Karem rolled his eyes sideways.

“Someone who makes good noodles is still under punishment, I see.”

“I don’t know what happened, but…”

Alicia had guessed what transpired.

Mary, who was tending to the still skeptical Catherine, shuddered.

“Alicia thinks Mary needs to be more aware.”

“As I’ve said many times, Lady Alicia. I’m innocent! I just stepped away briefly to wash dishes—”

“You don’t need to explain to Alicia.”

“Stop with the nonsense and just bring up Servianus-style fried squid.”

Rebuffed, Mary resumed her work.

“More importantly, my lord.”

“Atanitas.”

“We might have to alter the caravan’s route.”

Contrarily to the words, Catherine’s voice was firm.

“There could be a dungeon along the route.”

“Weren’t we told that once a Mimic grows to a certain size, it leaves the dungeon? No, that’s the problem.”

“It can’t be an artificial dungeon.”

“Right. I agree. That suggests it occurred naturally.”

As Alfred hesitated to grab some Takoyaki, Catherine affirmed, “It couldn’t have suddenly appeared here.”

“If we consider the size of that huge Mimic, it’s bound to be substantial. We’ll need to organize a scouting party.”

“Is there a dungeon nearby?”

“As far as I know, there isn’t. If that’s the case, it must have appeared naturally. It’s odd that work keeps piling up as we make our way to Kingsland.”

Alfred, munching on the Takoyaki, let out a hot sigh. He had abandoned the thought of a bit of rest on their journey.

Slurp—

“But can dungeons also occur naturally?”

“…Hmm. Yes.”

Catherine nodded as she rinsed her mouth with Jjamppong broth.

“Dungeons can naturally arise from magic tools, powerful malevolence, or monster nests.”

“So then, artificial dungeons must be facilities forgotten after being created by humans?”

“Exactly. Once footsteps fade away, cities and towns will quickly be forgotten, and over time they will be buried underground.”

“So… the ruins of the Palatino Empire?”

Thoughts of ancient forgotten cities and structures sprang to mind.

“No, it wouldn’t be that.”

“You seem confident.”

“Unless it’s south of Iceland. There are no ancient ruins of the Palatino Empire in Iceland, at least as far as I know. If there were, they would be ruins of ancient Icelandic civilization, wouldn’t they?”

Alfred, who had been halfway through his Jjamppong, nodded in agreement.

“My family’s archives indicate the ancient Palatino Empire kept their distance from the cold lands like Iceland.”

“Even now, it’s warm in between lands, that would be true.”

“Thus, among the artificial dungeons found in Iceland, none have been identified as ruins of the Palatino Empire.”

With someone like Karem saying so confidently, there wasn’t much else to argue.

“Ah, but it’s not that there are no dungeons from ancient civilizations discovered in Iceland. Hm…”

Catherine took a bite of Takoyaki and sighed silently before continuing.

“It’s just that there are none from the Palatino Empire.”

“People must have lived here too.”

Ten years could change landscapes, they say. But Karem struggled to visualize that.

Having never seen a dungeon, and even setting aside artificial dungeons, it was quite curious to think that dungeons could arise naturally.

Crisp—

“Hm. This is a bit under-seasoned for just eating straight.”

“You can dip it in soy sauce like Lady Alicia.”

“Hm. Oh! Now that’s certainly…”

The crispy yet soft texture, with the delightful taste of soy sauce, made its freshness shine.

“Alicia dreams of gathering friends to embark on an adventure in a dungeon someday.”

“Lady Alicia, I must insist, that’s dangerous.”

Poppins cut off Alicia’s unrealistic musings, but Catherine and Karem were briefly stunned by the enormity of that dream.

“Oh dear, it seems the food has cooled a bit.”

As Mary spoke, the tent echoed only with the sounds of dishes clanging and the crunching of fried batter.

Murmur— Murmur—

Suddenly, the noise from outside the tent grew louder.

As if something unexpected was occurring.

“The murmur is intensifying.”

“Perhaps there’s a scuffle going on.”

Even though Alfred’s authority kept strict control, adventurers often led different stories, causing Karem to believe such a thing was possible.

Flap—!

“Our adorable little bear cub!”

Before Richard burst into the tent.

“Grandpa’s here!”

“Grandfather!”

The sudden appearance of Iceland’s mightiest warrior.

‘Why on earth is that man here?’

Not to mention, with his short hair styled sharply, fine-trimmed beard, and muscular build that even his elegant garments couldn’t hide beneath.

The one and only.

Except for the Duke’s daughter, who flew at Richard like a cannonball, everyone else in Catherine’s tent was taken aback.

“Come out, come out!”

“Um, can’t I just eat first?”

“I caught a huge dungeon hamster lurking nearby as a present for our darling little bear cub!”

“A present! But what exactly is a hamster?”

“Oh, let’s keep that joy for when you see it.”

Richard plucked Alicia from the ground like a sack and charged out of the tent.

 

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