After safely escaping Talisa, the two stopped to rest for a while in a valley.
While Kazar washed himself in the valley stream and then gathered firewood for a campfire, Ernolf was fidgeting in the water.
“That’s the thing the priest had?”
Kazar asked as he watched Ernolf struggle to pull the Artifact stuck to his left palm free.
“Yeah. It seems he was able to succeed with the Chimera Creation Art because of this. If it hadn’t used up all its power while fighting me, it would have turned the lord’s son into a monster.”
In his previous life, Kazar had wondered why Blue Vine Temple had failed to stop the epidemic. The answer was here. The Artifact had run out of power and could no longer be used.
“Isn’t there a way to use it again? Seeing that it moved to your hand, I don’t think it has become completely unusable.”
“I think it could work if I charged it with power, but I don’t know how. It won’t even budge when I try pouring mana into it....”
He needed to get its basic functions working to learn what it could do, but the Beast King’s Heart was now completely dormant.
‘In my current state, I can’t even see through its Magic Circuits. This is really inconvenient.’
Ernolf pouted and scratched at his left palm with the fingers of his other hand. He had expected a great deal because it was a legendary Artifact, but the rumors seemed to have been greatly exaggerated. Having something he could not even use attached to his palm was extremely inconvenient.
“Want me to cut it off with a knife? It might work if I carve out your palm.”
“Why don’t you just say you’ll cut off my wrist?”
“That’s a good way too.”
Kazar let out a snicker at the complaint-filled reply. Talking about the Artifact made him think of the city they had left behind.
‘Will history change?’
Tirad had killed the priests of Talisa and warned the lord about the epidemic and the hybrids. None of that had happened in his previous life.
Kazar thought that if the lord of Talisa took the advice to heart and responded properly, the city might not be destroyed eleven years later.
‘I never thought my brother surviving would be such a major variable.’
Kazar sat hunched over, staring blankly at his brother as he fussed with his palm.
‘In my previous life, I went to find them alone. If I go looking for our parents with my brother, will something change again?’
Because his brother had changed Talisa’s fate, a faint hope arose that he might change their parents’ fate as well.
“Enough of that. Get out here and start the fire.”
“Am I a flint?”
Though he grumbled, Ernolf snapped his fingers and set the branches alight.
Kazar indifferently poked the branches into the campfire, then told Ernolf to catch a few fish before getting out of the water.
Ernolf grumbled that physical labor was an Aura User’s specialty, yet he used magic to toss two large freshwater fish in front of Kazar.
Their words and actions not matching was something the two of them had in common.
“Gut them, then pick some leaves from that Makkam tree and stuff them into the bellies to get rid of the fishy smell. And don’t cut the scores too finely. The flesh will break apart.”
“Can’t we just eat them as they are?”
Kazar clenched his molars in warning.
“Oh, right. Salt! I caught sight of salt flowers blooming near the top of the cliff on our way here. Go pick some of those.”
Whether Kazar got angry or threw a fit, Ernolf did not budge and said what he had to say.
“Why the fuck do you always make such a fuss whenever we’re about to eat?”
“Wouldn’t it be good to eat well since we’re eating anyway? Every dish has to be properly seasoned to taste good.”
“Then you go!”
“I’d like to, but my hand is like this right now.”
A bizarre Artifact was embedded in Ernolf’s left palm, making it difficult even to bend his fingers, while the flesh of his right arm had turned black from Irnatol’s magic.
“Ah, seriously!”
Kazar lost his temper and threw the knife he had taken out to prepare the fish at Ernolf’s feet.
As the blood rushed to his head, he remembered the first time they had gone to an inn to eat out.
***
It had been the day they offered the Mad Boar to Blue Vine Temple and rented rooms at an inn near the market.
Ernolf had kept going on about eating food like civilized people, so Kazar took him to the dining room, and that was when the trouble began.
“What is the best dish this place makes?”
Kazar had just sat down in a corner of the dining room and was about to tell them to bring anything when Ernolf spoke first. He had lived as a slave all his life and could not possibly have eaten at a dining table before, yet strangely enough, he behaved as though places like this were familiar to him.
“We serve whatever ingredients we have that day. What do you mean, the best dish? Just eat what you’re given.”
The waiter sneered at Ernolf.
He had already been generous by allowing a pair of ragged beggar bastards, who were not even properly dressed, to sit at a table. It was laughable that they were asking about the menu as though they were someone important.
Hearing the waiter’s words, Kazar placed a knife on the table, while Ernolf set down a coin beside it.
Glancing cautiously at Kazar, the waiter slowly picked up the coin.
“We specialize in pheasant and pigeon dishes. We have a pheasant we caught yesterday, so we can cook that right away, but you’ll have to wait a little for pigeon.”
“Then chicken would be best.”
After listening to the waiter’s explanation, Ernolf chose what they would eat.
‘What’s with this bastard?’
The waiter asked with his eyes why Ernolf had asked what they did best if he wanted chicken.
As though he had not understood what the waiter’s expression meant, Ernolf calmly continued.
“A whole roast chicken would be nice. Pour beer into its belly, rub oil and salt evenly over the surface, lay bay leaves over it, and roast it for about an hour. Add whole garlic when you roast the chicken, as that will bring out the flavor, so do not leave it out.”
“....”
“Oh, and don’t use a chicken more than six months old, because the meat will be tough. Use a young chicken.”
Mistaking the waiter’s dumbfounded stare for a failure to understand because his explanation had been too long, Ernolf repeated himself once more.
After the waiter went into the kitchen with a blank look on his face, Kazar gave Ernolf’s ankle a hard kick beneath the table.
“You’ve lived on nothing but pig slop, so what the fuck do you know about flavor? Where did you hear about that stuff?”
“From a book.”
Ernolf frowned as he spoke, displeased by the table that was sticky from absorbed grease.
“Who the hell dares to meddle in my cooking?”
“Those little bastards over there, Chef.”
A chef as large as a mountain came thudding toward the table where the two sat, a kitchen knife in his hand.
Kazar subtly drew his knife a little from its sheath, while Ernolf stared intently at the kitchen knife in the chef’s hand.
“Are you shutting down your business to have a fight?”
Kazar could curse at his brother himself, but he could not stand someone else insulting him.
“Well, well? Instead of a chicken’s neck, I should take your neck.”
The chef bristled at Kazar’s words. At that moment, Ernolf pushed his chair back and stood.
“Judging by that kitchen knife, you seem to be devoted to cooking.”
“What did you say?”
“There are traces of it having been modified countless times to fit the cook’s hand. Its edge is well sharpened, and seeing that there is not a speck of old grime caught in the seams, I can tell you treasure this knife. If it were a sword, I would call it a famous blade, but isn’t the knife too precious to use for taking a person’s head?”
The chef’s enormous body swayed for a moment. His eyes gleamed, and his lips trembled with emotion.
“You’re the first person to recognize the value of my sword at a glance.”
Kazar inwardly scoffed, ‘Since when was a kitchen knife a famous blade?’ But Ernolf remained entirely serious.
“It was rude of me to order something as commonplace as roast chicken from someone this skilled. Should I have ordered a dish more worthy of a challenge?”
“Ahh....”
“I saw a Great White-Horned Deer on my way here. What do you think? I’ll catch it and bring it back, so would you like to show off your skill?”
“A Great White-Horned Deer? Y-you mean the monster that shoots lightning from its antlers?”
“Its meat is light and chewy, so they say it is a true delicacy.”
“How are you going to catch that....?”
“It seems you did not see us offer the Mad Boar to the temple earlier. My younger brother will catch it and bring it back, so do not worry. Despite how he looks, this child is an Aura User.”
Ernolf draped an arm around Kazar’s shoulder with a very proud expression.
The customers who had been silently listening to the three of them were startled upon hearing that Kazar was an Aura User and looked at him.
“Can’t you just eat whatever?”
Kazar grumbled after coming down to eat, only to end up going monster hunting without warning.
“Eating a Great White-Horned Deer will increase your stamina, and drinking its blood will strengthen your resistance to paralytic poison. Its antlers can also be sold for a high price. You like money, don’t you?”
“Where did you pick up that kind of crap?”
“From a book.”
“Why do you only read that kind of crap?!”
Kazar had thought Ernolf was reading books to increase his magical power, but it seemed this bastard had only strengthened his tongue.
“I’m hungry. Hurry up and go.”
No matter how much Kazar lost his temper, Ernolf pressed him to hurry up and catch it, saying that if he kept dawdling, they would not get to eat that day.
That night, Kazar searched the entire forest and, after a fierce battle with a Great White-Horned Deer, finally managed to have a meal.
The meat he put into his mouth when dawn was nearly breaking was a delicacy beyond the ability of human language to describe.
After eating one piece of meat, Kazar had been so shocked that he briefly lost his senses. After eating another piece, he had been so moved that his clenched fist trembled.
***
Much to his chagrin, the Great White-Horned Deer he had eaten that day had been the most delicious deer dish of Kazar’s entire life.
‘That bastard is crazy about flavor. It had better be fucking delicious!’
That was why Kazar was cursing even today as he climbed the cliff to pick salt flowers.
‘Before he makes me go pick more, I should take every last one I can find.’
Climbing the cliff barehanded, Kazar picked every salt flower he came across and stuffed them into the pouch at his waist.
“Huh?”
Then he discovered something strange.