"Who gave you permission to feed my horse?"
The cold edge of steel was resting against my throat, held firmly by Sir Richard.
"Are you out of your mind?" I snapped back. "You dumped me on the saddle and walked into the bar without looking back. Now you blame me for finding a way down? What kind of twisted logic is that?"
"If you were not the Countess's guest, your head would already be rolling in the dirt," Richard grunted, shoving his longsword back into its scabbard.
"Your reasoning is beyond me." I rubbed my neck, feeling a thin smear of blood on my fingers, which only fueled my annoyance. “And again, if you kill me, you’ll kill your lady too. Old man.”
He didn’t reply and walked straight back to his table.
[Richard Affection decreased to -3]
I walked up to the tavern counter. "Give me a mug of beer. Put it on his tab."
The bartender looked at Richard, waiting for a nod. Richard offered no nod, but also no objection.
“Come on.” I hurried, “I’m a guest of your lord.”
This time, Richard nodded.
A wooden mug filled with a yellowish liquid was slammed down in front of me. I leaned in and caught a foul whiff that smelled like horse piss.
"What is this slop?"
"That is ale," the bartender growled.
"This sour garbage is ale?"
"Who do you think you are?" The man sneered. "Insulting our Falken Ale!? If you do not like it, get lost. Go buy fine wine if you have the coin."
"Do you have any water, then?"
The bartender let out a scornful laugh, jerking his chin toward the muddy ditch outside the tavern door.
“Yeah, drink that, you bastard.” A random town boy was spitting on my back.
[Reputation in Falkenreach decreased to -5]
[Reputation decreased to 10]
What a miserable place, I thought, shaking my head.
I picked up the wooden mug and carried it over to Richard's table. "Here is the beer I ordered for you."
Richard glanced at me, lifted the mug, and took a long gulp.
My face twisted in disgust just watching him drink it.
"What?" he said, setting the cup down with a thud. "Little strength, yet plenty of complaints."
"Let me tell you something," I said, leaning in. "Tomorrow, I will bring a bottle of beer from my home. Just do not be mad when you drink it."
"Why would I?"
"Because once you taste it, you will never be able to swallow this puddle piss again."
Richard burst into hearty laughter. "Bring whatever you like, boy."
"Want to make a bet on it?"
"What are the stakes?"
"You put up your horse, Whitemane. I will put up my firearm."
"I have no use for your iron stick."
"Then what do you want?"
"Keep your distance from Lady Clara and Lord Leonardo."
"Fine by me," I said. "A deal is a deal."
Richard narrowed his eyes at me with suspicion. "By the name of Ordanis."
Waking up in Clara's Jackson Heights apartment that evening, I followed my usual routine. I stripped off the stiff leather armor, took a long shower, and dried off using Clara's towel.
Clara woke up shortly after.
“Can you just buy another towel for yourself?”
“I forgot,” I said from the sofa. "But how long do we have to stay in that Falkenread place?"
"Falkenreach," she corrected, hanging the damp towel behind the bathroom door. "Perhaps two or three days. Maybe four or five."
"What takes so long inside that castle?"
"It is standard noble etiquette," she explained calmly. "The first day is for reception and rest, followed by formal banquets, court dances, and jester performances. I am also expected to observe Lord Leonardo lead a justice trial and offer my counsel."
"Sounds so much fun," I mocked. "Good luck with all that."
"And you? Are you getting along with Sir Richard?"
"Oh, wonderful," I chuckled. "We are getting along just great."
Clara raised an eyebrow. "Good."
"Not taking a shower today?"
"I already bathed in the castle," she said. "I need to record a few short videos to make money today."
"Do your thing; I will not bother you," I said. "I need to head to the supermarket to grab some groceries. Want anything specific?"
"Whatever you prefer," she said softly. "Just stay safe out there."
"Don’t worry."
Since we could not tell who might be an assassin in this city, staying indoors was our best defense. As I walked toward the front door, Clara stepped close and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.
"Thank you… for everything."
My ears flushed red. "No problem."
At the supermarket, standing under the bright lights surrounded by endless rows of packaged food, a wave of gratitude washed over me.
Modern food processing and industrial technology were true wonders.
I am so fucking lucky to be alive in the 21st Century.
More importantly, I wanted to wipe the smug look off those medieval locals. Introducing modern items might distort the rules between both realms, which could make breaking the soul tether even harder for Clara.
Given that I can no longer fully trust Clara, I feel even less burdened about messing things up for her.
One stone, two birds!
I scanned the shelves, picking out the components for Richard's special menu.
Back in the apartment that night, I waited until Clara drifted off to sleep before stuffing the deep pockets of my hoodie and sweatpants with canned beverages, instant soup pouches, and sweets.
Once satisfied with my haul, I lay down and let sleep take me.
I opened my eyes inside the wooden room above the tavern. I patted my pockets to make sure everything had crossed over safely.
A can of cold lager, a pouch of instant creamy mushroom soup, a handful of fruit gummies and hard candies, and a packet of instant milk tea powder.
I inspected each item closely, making sure the packaging showed no signs of magical distortion or monster-summoning runes. Everything looked normal.
Carrying the items, I headed downstairs with a confident stride.
Richard was already seated at his usual table, nursing a sour mug. Since safe drinking water was nonexistent here, people drank weak brew from morning to night, which explained their awful tempers.
He did not bother looking up. Fine. Prepare to be amazed.
I asked the bartender for a clean wooden mug, and the man waved me off, telling me to fetch one myself.
Fine. I’ll grab it myself then.
The aluminum tab on the beer can was pulled, and it let out a satisfying hiss that turned several heads in the room.
I tilted the can, pouring the golden brew into the wooden cup. A thick layer of rich white foam rose to the rim, releasing the crisp scent of fresh malt and hops.
Richard stared at the foam with furrowed brows.
"Drink up," I said, sliding the cup across the table.
A small crowd of patrons drifted closer to see what was happening.
Richard picked up the mug, took a cautious sniff, and sipped the top layer. He paused, glanced at the onlookers, and then took a massive gulp that left thick foam clinging to his gray mustache.
"How is it?" the bartender asked, leaning over the counter with curiosity.
Richard smacked his lips. Without saying a single word, he raised the cup again and drained the rest in one long pull.
The bartender dipped a finger into the leftover foam and licked it clean. His eyes went wide. "By the gods... that is fresh."
I topped off the mug with the rest of the can and slid it to the bartender. "Drink it. Tell me which one is better."
The bartender finished the cup in seconds, staring at me in disbelief. "Which Royal Brewhouse produced this? I worked in the grand breweries for years, and I have never tasted a brew this clean."
I let out a quiet laugh, not explaining.
"Do you admit defeat?" I asked Richard.
"It is passable," Richard grunted, looking away with a stubborn frown. "Our local ale has more bite."
Typical cheating old bastard.
"Is that right?" I said, setting the rest of my items onto the table.
The colorful plastic wrappers drew bewildered stares from the entire room.
"Boil some water and bring me two clean bowls and spoons," I told the bartender.
“Yes… Right away.”
When the boiling water arrived, it carried a thin layer of grease on the surface, but I ignored it.
I tore open the mushroom soup pouch and emptied the powder into the first bowl. Then I dumped the milk tea mix into the second.
Pouring hot water over both, rich aromas of savory cream, mushrooms, and sweet black tea filled the tavern air.
"This is what we eat where I come from," I said, stirring each bowl with a spoon before lifting a sample. "Anyone want a taste?"
The patrons narrowed their eyes, staring at the bowls with deep suspicion.
I took a spoonful of the soup, savoring the flavor, then offered a taste to Richard and the bartender.
“No one?”
No one reacted.
“Fine.”
I sat there eating alone, wondering if their taste buds were wired differently.
Halfway through the bowl, I looked up.
Every single person in the room was staring at my table, swallowing their saliva. They were just too proud to admit how good it smelled.
I pretended to be full, left the bowls and a small pile of candy on the table, and walked toward the stairs.
From the top of the landing, I peeked back down.
The tavern crowd swarmed the table like wild animals, shoving each other for a bite. Richard used his massive shoulders to push everyone back, scarfing down the creamy soup while hissing at the others to keep their voices down.
It was hilarious. If only I could use my phone without risking a magical catastrophe, I would have recorded the entire scene.
[Reputation in Falkenreach increased to -5]
[Reputation increased to 14]
I returned to my room with a grin.
Count Leonardo, you wanted to lock me out of your grand castle?
Just wait. You will regret crossing me.