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Life is full of bumps and bruises for everyone.

It’s not just about the serious injuries you hear about on the 9 PM news—like traffic accidents, stick fights, or skydiving without a parachute.

You might get a paper cut while flipping a book, stub your little toe on a doorframe, step on a Lego while passing by, or have a perfume bottle fall on your foot while moving things around.

These are just typical injuries that happen when you’re enjoying everyday life, not riding a motorcycle, flipping a coin for thrills.

But what about those adrenaline junkies who engage in life-or-death activities?

Especially in a culture that, compared to modern times, has a distinctly limited range of entertainment options—and is dominated by a survival-of-the-fittest mentality that prizes strength?

Screech—!

“Ugh.”

Before frying the noodles, Karem, who was cooking the meat according to Catherine’s repeated insistence that it was the absolute last time, frowned.

The scene of the incident was near the Temporary Camp.

A noble, who had cheered after landing a headshot on a gigantic silver-white predatory bird with an arrow, was now crushed beneath it.

The noble caught under the behemoth couldn’t be distinguished as a monster or a beast, except for the sight of his leg bent at an unnatural angle.

“Why do you have to stand on the platform? It makes you more visible.”

For a moment, I shivered as if I were in a scene from a cartoon.

But when I looked back at Catherine and Mary, they both seemed completely unfazed.

“Ice Blue Kite. That guy might freeze to death if luck isn’t on his side.”

“Such hunts are typical for nobles.”

Mary seemed to find it all utterly inconsequential, prioritizing refilling Catherine’s empty beer glass.

“It’s definitely more chaotic and violent than a typical hunt among the powerful.”

“But isn’t it a noble who’s injured?”

“Nobles always have to show off, so even more so.”

“It’s not exactly subtle, given that you can see broken bones.”

In that moment, I wondered if Europa might consider a broken bone somewhat trivial compared to what they experience nowadays.

‘No, that can’t be right.’

Karem, lacking the sensitivity typical of Icelanders, was making a grave misunderstanding. A broken bone is certainly classified as a serious injury in Europa as well, especially in Iceland.

After all, it was a person of power who got hurt.

But if that was due to hunting, and hunting with other nobles at that, then the context becomes a bit different.

If someone got hit by a car and broke a leg, everyone would fret, but if they broke a leg playing on a playground, more people would likely scoff and say, “What a fool.”

Especially in the relatively rough-and-tumble, barbaric Iceland compared to typical European standards.

Though, if he were dead, that would change things.

On the other hand, he wasn’t dead, right? Why bother?

If anything, he must have become careless while trying to show off, and there were probably more people around laughing at him for it.

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

“But, he has a broken bone!”

“Don’t just eat the meat; look for yourself. Do you see anyone genuinely concerned over there?”

Without answering that, I observed. As aides were rescuing the noble pinned beneath his game, those nobles who’d been with him were chuckling at the spectacle.

But that was all part of Catherine’s scheme.

With a gesture to divert Karem’s attention, Catherine signaled Mary, who quickly ducked down, replenished the meat, and returned with a poised demeanor.

Fast as the wind! However, not a single sound or vibration was heard as she went down, refilled, and returned.

“The Giant Horned Rabbit has completely run out.”

At Mary’s whisper, Catherine looked slightly disappointed.

She wanted a bit more to eat—

“So I brought beef. It’s sirloin.”

“You should have said that first!”

“Would you like more?”

“No, let’s call this the real last one and finish with the noodles.”

While Karem was preoccupied with the injured man, Mary and Catherine were nearing original Sukiyaki territory.

They poured in the broth, repeating the simmering process until it was practically sauce with chunks of nicely thick meat dropping in.

Sizzle-sizzle-sizzle!

The thickened broth warming through the sauce began melting into the heat.

The fragrant steam rose, mixing the aromas of the sizzling meat with a hint of burnt soy sauce.

Catherine unknowingly closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the intoxicating aroma and the rhythmic sound of the rain.

It smelled delicious just from the scent alone. Forget rabbit meat; rabbits were meant for hot pot and stew!

This was why Sephone was obsessed with steak, especially beef.

Only when grilling meat could its true flavors and aromas shine through!

Sizzle-sizzle-sizzle-sizzle!

As they tossed in additional green onions, Mary pressed down on the meat, flipping it around in the juices and oil, blending it with the moisture from the onions.

“Would you like it grilled a bit more?”

“No, let’s eat right away. Meat first.”

Without hesitation, I grabbed a piece of beautifully cooked meat, with medium-rare cross-sections glistening in a rich brown sauce.

The salty flavor was intense. The depth created by repeated simmering was impressively heavy.

However, the sirloin she mentioned was certainly not overshadowed by the sauce.

What Mary brought was none other than sirloin, and not just any sirloin but the finest cut!

Surprisingly, despite the smell, the meat’s essence was slightly subtle but, each bite released a profuse burst of flavor and juiciness.

The taste was fantastic, differing from the tough and oily Rabbit meat.

Moreover, the slightly crisped green onions cooked in the sauce complemented the chewy texture—

“Wait, are you really switching to beef?”

“Oh, did you catch on?”

“Are you hogging it all for yourself?”

“It’s your fault for being distracted!”

There was no time to grumble.

In an instant, I devoured the last piece of meat.

The overwhelming sensation filled my mouth as Karem lowered his head.

“If you eat more beef…”

“The contractor requested to have the noodles last this time.”

“But the sauce is still swimming in there—”

“It’s already too late.”

Mary ruthlessly poured Karem’s prepared egg noodles into the pot, which had lost its pieces of meat.

The noodles, thinner than spaghetti but thicker than thread, began soaking up the sauce instantly.

Traditionally, Sukiyaki is finished with udon noodles.

However, Karem didn’t particularly like udon, nor did he know how to make it. Even if he tried, he couldn’t replicate its taste and feel.

Thus, he hastily brought out egg noodles instead.

Similar to handmade pasta in some ways.

“Oh…”

“So, are you considering not eating it?”

“That’s not the case.”

Fried rice, noodles, or porridge should be the culmination of a hotpot dish.

Eating it was the only way everything made sense.

The fried noodles, infused with the concentrated broth, meat juices, and sauce.

Despite feeling strange, it still captured the taste of the fondly remembered carb-loaded dessert in every bite, though worry lingered.

Didn’t someone just get hurt a moment ago? Is it really fine?

Karem couldn’t take his eyes off the injured souls guzzling beer and wine as they were carried away.

“I told you so.”

“…I shouldn’t be saying this as someone living in Iceland…”

“A bit barbaric, isn’t it?”

“Uhh, yes. Not just a bit, but a lot.”

Karem replied while diligently shoveling in the fried noodles.

Even if one questioned the appropriateness of eating while someone was injured, honestly, the people affected were grinning and smashing drinks anyway, and this fried noodle dessert was simply too delicious to stop.

A day later.

Contrary to Karem’s worries, the hunt wrapped up without issue, as if nothing had happened.

“Wait, they just brush it off like this? There’s no political squabble among nobles over the injury? Seriously?”

Of course, what Karem envisioned could happen in Europa too.

However, in Iceland, a broken bone suffered while hunting was recognized as about as serious as scratching yourself playing on a playground.

No one intended to hurt someone else, and if someone gets injured while hunting, using that to subtly poke fun at them isn’t just dishonorable; it’s decidedly undignified.

Actually, there were those who were praised for their bravery after getting hurt but managing to hunt their prey successfully.

You’d have to endure a little teasing, but this was the mindset.

So, in contrast to their arrival, while many were injured while leaving, the overall atmosphere remained amicable.

Amidst laughter, they exchanged prey and gifts, discussed potential marriages for their offspring and relatives, and as members of the Adventurer Guild began to arrive one by one, everyone, including Alfred, started their journey back to their territories.

However, Catherine detached from Alfred’s caravan before they reached Coldon.

“Thinking it over, Karem’s junior really got a substantial reward.”

Mary, sitting on the driver’s seat, manipulated the reins while peering out the window, enviously staring at Karem.

“A substantial villa, huh?”

“Apparently, it’s technically a manor.”

“Karem junior.”

Her voice didn’t emanate a bland tone but was vibrant, filled with a desire to impress someone.

What a coincidence for that to come from Mary’s mouth!

“Ugh, getting goosebumps.”

“If it’s a manorial estate, there must be someone to clean it, right?”

“There are dedicated caretakers managing Fellow Mansion—”

“Why?!”

The wagon rattled as it shook more on the inside than on the outside. Suddenly, Mary’s head popped out of the window upside down.

“Ah, shoot! The reins! The reins!”

“There’s no need to worry. I can adeptly handle the reins with both feet. More importantly, having dedicated staff?”

“Well, it used to be Felwinter Family land, so it’s only natural!”

A building that gets attention will maintain some form of structure, even if the management is lacking.

Conversely, a building that is neglected begins to decay at an unimaginable speed from the moment it goes unmanaged.

Even modern symbols of civilization, like reinforced concrete buildings, can’t compare; a mansion made solely from bricks and wood is bound to take hits from time.

In that light, the hired hands of a noble villa not only maintain the estate in peak condition so the master feels no discomfort upon arrival but also serve another role.

They act as a living totem to preserve the villa’s presence.

That’s why caretakers reside in the villa.

Naturally, there are semi-permanent maintenance spells, but even in Europa, very few can set those up, and the number of wizards who can is even fewer.

“Stop thinking nonsense and return to the operator’s seat.”

“But, contractor!”

“Your contract is with me, not Karem. Now stop the chatter and get back.”

“Boo—”

Mary couldn’t argue against the undeniable logic laid down by Karem.

So, with her cheeks puffed up, her head disappeared back inside the wagon.

“Speaking of which, they did say there were hot springs?”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it a bit, but ah, it would typically involve some sikhae.”

“Sikhae? I don’t know what that is, but can’t you just make it?”

“I don’t know how to make that.”

*

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As the two listeners swallowed their regrets over the unique characteristics and flavor of sikhae, delightful songs echoed through the Fellow Mansion, their destination.

The lyrics were merely two words.

Boom, Chiki.

“Boom boom chiki chiki— boom boom chiki chiki—”

“Chiki boom boom— chiki boom boom— chiki boom boom—”

“Boom chiki! Boom boom chiki chiki! Boom chiki!”

“Boom chiki boom boom chiki chiki boom chiki boom boom!”

From the treetops in the forest, to the flower beds in the garden, throughout the courtyard, and inside the mansion, the strange lyrics filled the air with excitement.

Little girls clad in conical hats, cute dresses, and aprons, who looked like Alicia’s age, worked at a pace and skill level that seemed almost otherworldly.

Leading the endeavor was a girl with roll-bun hair, gripping a mop upside down, yelling.

“Kikimora comrades! We must maintain perfection before the new contractor friend arrives! Am I wrong?!”

“No! You are right! Captain Kikimora!”

It looked precisely like a childhood game akin to Alicia’s playtime, but the Kikimora were serious.

They were house fairies.

They were Kikimora.

To serve their masters was the very essence of the house fairy’s existence.

Moreover, distributing equal snacks and work to all the Kikimora in the group was Captain Kikimora’s duty!

With her roll-bun head shaking, Captain Nascha shouted.

“There’s a vile greedy brownie by the contractor’s side! I bet that brownie is planning to eye the Kikimora’s jobs like a nasty weasel!”

“Such atrocious behavior cannot be tolerated!”

“We won’t show even the slightest gap!”

“We cannot lose to the brownie!”

The Kikimora of the entire manor shouted in unison. Kikimora distanced away communicated through telepathy.

“Chiki chiki boom boom! Chiki chiki boom!”

“Chiki boom! Chiki boom! Chiki boom! Chiki boom!”

In response to Captain Nascha Kikimora’s leadership, the Kikimora comrades began to hum their traditional work song, intensifying their cleaning efforts.

 

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