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Even if the body is weary from the drudgery of daily life, people naturally turn their eyes to useless things.

A hefty payment for completing a security request, excluding the upfront fee.

A gigantic loot from defeating a mimic, just waiting for settlement.

It’s just a day or two of adventurers chatting about what they’ll do when they arrive at the village and city.

What to eat, what to buy; in the midst of talking about this, when boredom kicks in and a drink or two flows, people revert to their primal instincts.

Adding to that was the local custom of prioritizing ability over status and bloodline, causing small ruckuses to break out every time the caravan stopped.

The former Duke of Iceland, the current Marquess of Hardrianus…

Even with the strongest of Iceland joining, nothing changes.

Even those deemed top-tier warriors from Eurolpa could not endure the monotonous routine of walking, eating, sleeping, and… well, you know.

The ones who were so bored they would lightly start tussling, suddenly became invested as they watched the riveting clash of two swordmasters reaching extraordinary levels in the center of the campsite.

“Whoa! Given your age, you should let the juniors take your place! Your joints can’t handle this!”

“Such gluttony! You little rascal, take this!”

“Ouch! At your age, you should be considering a comfy spot in the grave! Take this—Lightning Pound!”

“How rude! Who chants their skills aloud?!”

The dragon head with a handle clashed with the massive double-headed axe. Sparks scattered everywhere as winds from the super-human movements blew them away, snuffing them out before they could even hit the ground.

Recalling the time when Gordon single-handedly sliced through dozens of thieves, he seemed more like a creature than a person.

“No, I mean, I do freeze things with divine power.”

Even so, there’s a limit to being human! Every time they clashed, it vibrated through the air and ground like two dump trucks colliding.

“Gordon and the knights, it’s like they aren’t even human.”

“…”

“Oh, Your Grace, that looked a bit perilous just now.”

“…”

Karem prodded the sulking Alicia, a request fueled by Richard’s earnest pleas to show off and soothe her.

Of course, regardless, it was action worthy of a Hollywood blockbuster, so it wasn’t awkward at all.

Yet Alicia remained sulky, resembling an angry pug.

“There are four swordmasters. If it weren’t for Iceland, there would have been countless requests for handshakes from every direction.”

Catherine, accompanied by Mary, was thrilled from her makeshift VIP seat.

“Countless requests for handshakes?”

“It’s a matter of maintaining a balance. An important one.”

“A balance, huh? Aren’t swordmasters considered the idols of warriors who wield magic?”

The current strongest of Iceland, Richard Felwinter, and his captain, the chief of the Vanguard tribe, Baston.

Giant Churchill, commonly known as the Ogre born as a human.

And now, the newly appointed mercenary-baron Gordon.

“Given that kind of power is concentrated in one region, shouldn’t we be cautious about it?”

“Ah, politically speaking?”

“Iceland might be too muscle-brained in that regard.”

When thinking of what a swordmaster could do, it would be rather odd not to be cautious. The Grand Wizard isn’t much different either.

“Of course, it’s also due to the fact that no Duke of Iceland has ever waged territorial war outside of Iceland throughout history.”

“Not even once?”

“Presumably because they didn’t have the capability to do so.”

Just a generation ago, Iceland was starving.

Forget about territorial wars; they didn’t even have the capacity for local skirmishes.

“There were local territorial wars due to pillaging by those unable to bear it near the border. It never escalated beyond a vassal’s level.”

“Wasn’t Kingsland a royal domain? Pillaging? And that’s all?”

“Just because it’s a royal domain doesn’t mean the king governs everything.”

Crash—!

Everyone’s attention turned to the plaza due to the shockwave. The duel disguised as a clash was wrapping up.

A blue-eyed axe swung, surrounded by a bluish aura. It collided with the dragon’s head, which was exuding visible breath, but not a single scratch was made, and instead, the axe was deflected.

Thud— and then, Richard’s elbow came crashing down. The giant, whose armor crumpled under the impact, rolled several times, horrified spectators beneath him.

“Hm, that lacked some finesse.”

Richard lost interest immediately.

Having sturdy successors is a good thing.

However, more importantly, there was a pressing matter that mattered more to him than the capable successor awaiting his retirement.

Why did he get entangled in such a bothersome situation? All for the sake of his precious granddaughter. To show her a fantastic display and ease her anger.

“My little bear!”

“…Hmph!”

But that wasn’t enough to turn around the sulking Alicia. It surely would have been more effective to offer her something delicious to win her forgiveness.

Karem had no words against Richard’s questioning gaze.

“I did try my best, you know.”

“Hm? What did you say?”

“Nothing. Let’s move on.”

Anyway, Karem did give it a shot.

By the way, the plush cloud that had fainted from one slap was currently being focused on by an adventurer with monster-taming experience, loaded in an empty cart under Alfred’s orders.

*

*

*

The southernmost part of Iceland.

As they got closer to Borderster in the northern region of Kingsland, Karem finally felt spring had arrived.

In Iceland, it takes until summer for the snow to melt, but as he headed further south, the environment began to change.

Green meadows with sprouting sprouts.

Trees filling the gaps with fresh green leaves.

Wild undead looking a bit more lively.

This indicated two things.

One, the caravan would soon enter Kingsland.

Two, Richard would soon have to leave the caravan for his return.

“Alicia is still angry, huh?”

After his ungrateful son became independent and his beloved wife passed away, besides the times he eats, the happiest and most enjoyable times were spent with Alicia.

But now, Alicia was determined not to let go of her anger.

“Why is that? The plan should have been perfect!”

And Richard quickly grasped the reason for this.

Alicia just wasn’t interested.

A spectacle that could thrill anyone, regardless of age or gender?

Right now, a single cookie to eat was far more precious to her.

But it was already too late. They had just a day left until their return. It was too late to prepare anything.

However, Richard didn’t want to send off his beloved granddaughter after two years like this.

Or rather, upon reflection, one method remained.

Just as he thought, Alicia was a food lover who valued a cookie to eat above all. And at that moment, within the caravan was a capable individual who had turned Iceland’s food culture upside down.

So as night fell and the caravan stopped, Richard dashed to the kitchen tent where that capable individual was.

“So… you came to see me?”

“Yeah.”

“Even so…”

Suddenly being like this made it a bit awkward. Karem caught eyes with the Felwinter brothers, who were casually roasting dried sausage over the campfire.

“Hm. Grandfather, isn’t Karem a bit awkward here too?”

“However, it’s just as awkward for me.”

With a heavy thud, Richard plopped down by the campfire and nabbed one of William’s sausages.

“Ah, grandfather. That’s mine.”

“There’s plenty here. More importantly…”

“More importantly, what? I was going to eat that—”

“There’s got to be a solution, right?”

A solution, huh.

To put it bluntly, there’s definitely not a lack of it.

In conclusion, Richard wanted to cook something delicious and win Alicia over.

But there was a problem.

First off, it was currently dinner time.

He needed to prepare dinner for Catherine.

Of course, if he made a dish to soothe Alicia as well, it wouldn’t be an issue; however, there was another problem.

“If she cooks, she’ll still sulk, thinking it was Karem who made it at this size, wouldn’t she?”

William muttered as he pulled out a fresh dried sausage to skewer. It was exactly what Karem wanted to say.

“To avoid that, we need something prepared by grandfather himself, obviously scrumptious and noticeable.”

“But hasn’t the only thing we’ve encountered these past few days been wild undead?”

“Besides them, there haven’t been any others, either.”

Even if there were appetizing livestock trailing behind the caravan, the swordmaster radiated energy that kept them at bay.

The beasts and monsters that had just awakened from hibernation were petrified into silence.

“Well, if we manage to hunt something even now—”

“No, I’ve got some meat that was hunted by hand.”

“Meat, you say? Excuse me?”

“I’ll bring it right now!”

Up he sprang. Whoosh! Richard quickly dashed out of the tent, holding a lengthy dried sausage that had been heated in the fire.

“Why, you’re quite spry.”

“William.”

“What? It’s true! The Swordmaster and the pinnacle of Iceland! Apparently, he even slanders the lord in his absence. It seems hardly slanderous!”

“Everyone in this vicinity could hear you.”

“Oops.”

William’s eyes widened at the fact that this was different from usual banter. The sausage he had been about to eat dropped to the ground.

“Ah, what a bummer… by the way, can you guess the situation?”

Wiping grease from his lips, Godwin shrugged. William shook his head as he brushed off the sausage that fell to the ground and munched on it.

“Second prince. That one you just dropped on the ground.”

“Wait a moment. It was just brief. As long as I dusted it off, it’s fine.”

“At least roast it over the fire one more time.”

“Do I have to?”

William grumbled as he twirled the half-eaten sausage over the campfire. Godwin sighed softly and shook his head.

“Well, you’ve been rushing nonstop. You might as well have hunted something on the side.”

“Would you have had the luxury for that, though?”

“Maybe some unfortunate beasts and monsters that crossed our path.”

If Godwin’s speculation was true, then those beasts and monsters would have had pure bad luck raining down on them.

Karem took a moment to pay his respects to the potential victims.

“More importantly, what shall we prepare for dinner today?”

With Mary’s words in mind and the weather beginning to warm up, he decided on excluding jjamppong. Having thought that far, Karem felt gazes upon him and uttered a single line.

“Have we got tonight’s permission yet?”

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

The two brothers, temporarily blinded by their appetites, suddenly remembered who they were supposed to seek permission from.

“Whoosh— it’s not about who went first!?” Godwin and William dashed out of the tent with their dried sausage skewers in hand.

“…Success, big win.”

Karem quietly cheered for joy while quickly gathering the dried sausages wrapped in a cloth beside the campfire. The chewy texture, pleasantly rich in fat, all flavors were incredibly appealing.

Flap!

“I’m back!”

Richard burst into the tent, holding a sizable, unnamed bundle wrapped in cloth with one arm. It was a rather familiar shape.

“Is that meat?”

“You recognized it at a glance?”

“Well, it’s obvious when you wrap it in cloth like that!”

In that case, Richard laid the mysterious bundle on the makeshift shelf. Bang— a reasonably heavy vibration echoed.

“It’s the meat of a Giant Dungeon Hamster.”

“…”

Standing straight. Karem froze as he put away the bundled dried sausages.

“Specifically brought back from a fatty part.”

Could it be Alicia was sulking because of this?

But he brought back meat from a Giant Dungeon Hamster?

“…Seriously?”

“Yeah. There was no way to preserve it, so I salted it on the spot. It should be decent enough to eat, but it might be quite a matter of taste—”

“…”

Karem stared at Richard with a gaze dripping with saltiness, then shook his head.

That wasn’t just any seriousness.

Richard hurriedly asked before leaving the tent to find Alicia.

“…Well, I was curious regardless.”

Since he was curious, whether he cooked with it or not, he’d need to taste it first to decide how to proceed.

The meat of the Giant Dungeon Hamster was unique.

First of all, it didn’t even resemble regular meat.

A pink chunk, indistinguishable between fat and meat, heavily coated with salt. When touched, oil seeped out onto his fingers.

“With this, I wouldn’t even need additional oil…”

Karem cut a small piece and tossed it onto a heated pan.

Sizzleeeee—!

“Oh.”

The moment it touches the pan, a tantalizing sound resounded.

Shortly after, as oil oozed out, flipping the meat with a smooth glide revealed a beautifully browned and crispy exterior, especially delightful to behold.

Moreover, the pig-like, oily scent wafted up, stimulating something deep within his mind.

It felt oddly familiar…

“Could it be?”

Chomp.

Breaking through the crunchy texture, it became undeniably soft, devoid of even a hint of muscle fibers, disintegrating far easier than a meatball.

Karem’s mind was bombarded with memories of Garam, long buried deep.

“…Spam?”

And then he despaired.

There was no rice.

 

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