The castle kitchen was absurdly large, but with numerous ingredients piled densely together and stoves, cooking utensils, tableware, and tables and chairs cluttered about, it felt all the more cramped.
Eugene even saw a servant’s bedding placed in a corner!
They truly had no fear of fire.
Under the kitchen maid’s nervous gaze, Eugene sighed, pointing at the greasy table: “First, move the miscellaneous items out. Wash the table, stone pot, and knives thoroughly. Tomorrow, store all the ingredients in the storeroom so they can be taken as needed and not piled up here. Now, all of you hold out your hands for me to see.”
The few of them hurriedly extended their hands.
As expected, these catering personnel all wore long, dirt-stained fingernails, and the skinny claws of the goblin responsible for tending the fire were even more appalling.
Eugene directly established basic kitchen hygiene standards: “Alright, go cut your fingernails and wash your hands. There cannot be a speck of dirt in the crevices. Use a cloth to wrap your hair and cover your mouth and nose.”
When the kitchen maid returned with the remaining two servants, their young lord was standing in front of the stove, the pot in front of him bubbling and steaming.
“My Lord, what kind of soup would you like? I will make it,” the kitchen maid hurried over, fearing the lord would be burned by the fire.
“It is not soup,” Eugene shook his head, used a cloth to wrap the handle, lifted the pot down, and poured the boiling water into a cup. “I do not drink alcohol. In the future, just boil the water and pour it for me.”
How much firewood would that require!
The kitchen maid felt a pang of extreme heartache, but upon seeing the lord’s flushed cheeks dyed by the heat, she quickly persuaded herself: The beautiful, benevolent, and noble Lord deserved to use the most expensive things!
“Do you need to add honey?” Following this train of thought, she bent down and retrieved a jar of honey from the cabinet.
Eugene inherently loved sweets, instinctively swallowed a mouthful of saliva, and with difficulty looked away: “No need.”
If he contracted diabetes here, there would be no conditions for treatment.
Eugene shifted his gaze to the cured meat hanging on the windowsill.
He really didn’t want to recall yesterday’s dark cuisine that was both smelly and fragrant, and he resolved to first reform the most precious meat category: “Wash all the meat clean, and pare off the moldy parts.”
The servants were all deeply shocked: But that was all meat!
However, they could not defy the lord, and could only cut away piece after piece of cured meat filled with sadness.
“These are all edible meats!” The goblin felt extreme heartache; if it weren’t for the lord being right here, he could have licked the meat chunks on the floor clean!
The kitchen maid felt the exact same way, as these meats were enough for her to cook a whole pot of soup!
It could only be said that the lord was truly a big shot from the capital, and none of his food, clothing, or usage was anything less than lavish and extremely expensive.
Eugene also heard their whispering, pretended not to know, and appreciatively admired the newly processed cured meat: “Choose one that hasn’t been cured for long.”
The quick-witted goblin hurried up to take one down: “This is a batch of pork cured just before the wind and snow.”
This piece of pork had a short curing time, had not molded in the low temperature, and exuded a fresh pale red.
The kitchen maid keenly asked: “Would you like pan-fried meat today?”
Her fighting spirit was soaring, as having been newly appointed not long ago, she must quickly figure out the lord’s tastes and make a brilliant display of her skills!
“Let’s go with this one.” Eugene was ravenously hungry, didn’t pick and choose, and directed the kitchen maid to cut a piece of good meat to wash and soak in light saltwater, preserving the rest with the ice and snow outside.
The gamey, rank odor of uncastrated pork emerged, causing Eugene to frown: “We need to add some spices.”
The next second, he watched the kitchen maid, who had been raring to go for a long time, impatiently lift a large spoonful of spices.
The two kitchen trainee assistants remaining surprisingly gave their full support:
“So willing to use spices.”
“As expected of a kitchen maid from the richer south.”
“Such pork chops will definitely be very delicious.”
Eugene: Save me!
He quickly stopped the kitchen maid from using a lethal dose of spices, picking out a bit of sage, rosemary, thyme, and butter from the mix to rub into the pork.
The livestock here were not plump, and there was little fat on the meat, but they could barely scrape together a few thin slices of fat to put into the pot, rendering out an overbearing and fragrant lard.
Only then did Eugene instruct the maid to cut onions to place at the bottom of the pot, put the pork chops on top to bake together, and brush them with honey at the same time.
Actually, pork chops would be better if beaten loose and marinated with spices for a period of time, but Eugene had been hungry since last night and had also undergone brain-straining labor like drawing maps, so he long lacked the mood to wait and would make do with eating a little first.
Although it was a rushed creation, under the heating of the stove fire, the pork chops and honey still underwent a wonderful Maillard reaction, turning into an extremely gorgeous golden color accompanied by a sizzle. At the same time, an overbearing fragrance burst forth, occupying everyone’s nasal cavities in an instant.
The kitchen maid had years of cooking experience and mastered the heat well. After frying the pork chops until both sides were golden brown, she took them out and placed them on a ceramic plate.
“No need to go to the dining room,” Eugene waved his hand to stop the kitchen maid, sat down leisurely, picked up his knife and fork to cut a piece, and popped it into his mouth. It was so delicious he almost shed tears.
The pork chops were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, salted and sweet to perfection.
The cured meat, specially soaked in saltwater and marinated in butter, was neither dry, hard, nor excessively salty. When teeth gently bit down, the fibers of the pork snapped, and the mellow juices immediately filled the oral cavity, surging like ocean waves to impact the taste buds.
With a pork chop down his stomach, Eugene finally pacified his screaming, hungry stomach and let out a long breath of relief.
There were still some scrap bits of pork chops left in the pot.
His gaze swept over the others who were continuously swallowing their saliva, his conscience twitching slightly: “You guys taste it too.”
“How can we eat your food!” The kitchen maid was the first to step forward and stop him.
The remaining people also chimed in with unanimous agreement: “How am I worthy to eat meat!”
“Slaves cannot touch your food!”
Facing their fearful gazes, Eugene reminded himself once more of the characteristics of this era and changed his reason: “I hope you will remember this flavor and the method just used. From now on, I will only eat pork chops like this.”
Only then did the kitchen maid cautiously taste a piece, her eyes instantly lighting up. She had never eaten such wonderful food before!
This must be a recipe bestowed by the gods within the Holy See!
Only gods and great nobles could eat such delicious food!
She looked with shock at the flawless-faced new lord, confirming once more that the person she served must be a noble beyond imagination, and she bowed deeply: “Rest assured, I will definitely make dishes that satisfy you!”
“I believe you.” Eugene was deeply moved and hurriedly taught the bit of kitchen knowledge he knew to the kitchen maid, striving to improve their meals as soon as possible.
The kitchen maid nodded repeatedly as she listened, and the other servants behind her cast gazes of extreme reverence, their starry eyes filled with adoration.
“The lord is so perfect and so knowledgeable; you must be a treasure bestowed by the gods!”
Just as he finished speaking and took a drink of water, Eugene was choked by the kitchen maid’s words, his earlobes turning red with embarrassment. To think that his first display of overwhelming ruler aura was actually him showing off his half-baked culinary skills.
Ultimately, the food here was simply too barren.
He also knew that processing cured meat this way incurred too much loss, and before long he would probably have to eat vegetarian, let alone pushing forward a plan to let slaves eat their fill, eat well, and eat meat.
Pondering, Eugene let his gaze fall upon the ice and snow outside the window, while the territory map introduced to him by the housekeeper last night surfaced in his mind.
Heading north, there was a long river. In summer, the lord could go fishing there, but unfortunately in winter, the river would be frozen solid.
He wondered if there were fish there in winter; if so, that would be his most urgently lacking protein source at present!
“Do you know about that river to the north?” Eugene asked, his gaze falling on the goblin.
The others had always been kitchen servants and never starved in winter, whereas the goblin who had just been transferred to the kitchen was quite clever; perhaps he had previously sneaked away to the riverside with other slaves to find food in winter.
Yet the goblin shivered, dropped to his knees, and began kowtowing with loud thuds: “The Northern River is your property, and the Holy See placed a one-year ban on it. I would never dare step a foot there!”
A question mark slowly floated above Eugene’s head. The Middle Ages certainly had such laws, where everything in the territory belonged to the lord, and slaves who casually entered and exited mountains and forests to forage would be punished with capital punishment, but…
“Why did the Holy See issue a ban? The housekeeper just told me that in summer I can go fishing in the Northern River.” The lord’s beautifully curved brows furrowed slightly, his exquisite and flawless visage making one wish to slice open their heart to smooth away the wrinkles between his brows.
Pity that the servants all lived in a daze, shaking their heads one after another to say they did not know.
It was the kitchen maid from the south who was more worldly: “When the incident happened three years ago, I heard rumors from the previous lord that the Holy See discovered a magician bewitched by the devil in the Northern River here.”
Her voice trembled slightly.
The kitchen grew abruptly quiet, and for a time, only the crackle of the stove fire remained.
The kneeling goblin’s body grew even stiffer, as if the blood throughout his body had frozen solid.
Even slaves knew that magicians were evil fellows who sold their souls to the devil in exchange for power. Once the Holy See discovered them, they would hunt them down in a continent-wide pursuit!
With the power and status of the Holy See, no one dared to get involved with them.
The worry on the young lord’s face deepened, but he did not make things difficult for the goblin: “I believe you.”
With heavy steps, he walked out of the kitchen and saw the housekeeper waiting at the door: “Do you know the reason for the closure of the Northern River?”
“Apologies, my lord, the Holy See did not inform us of the reason.” Abel bowed in apology, comforting his master: “The Northern River was closed for a year three years ago, and nothing happened that year. It was just the servants being timid, foolish, and letting their imaginations run wild.”
“Indeed.” Eugene’s furrowed brows relaxed, as if letting out a long sigh of relief. “That is good. I could not imagine that on the territory there actually, actually…”
The fragile lord did not finish the second half of his sentence, and the housekeeper gently patted the back of his hand for comfort: “It is fine.”
He watched the worried lord ascend the stairs, pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his fingers clean inch by inch, and chuckled indifferently.
Nobles truly were a bunch of death-fearing pigs.
Bedroom.
Eugene had just closed the door, his heavy footsteps instantly turning brisk, and he hurled himself onto the bed.
“Hiss!” He clutched his accidentally bruised forehead and pounded the rigid bedboard, but none of this could dampen his good mood: [System! System! Little Sys! Good news! Great news! Come out quickly!]
At this roar of his, the system’s small red dot also drilled out: [What is it?]
Before Eugene could explain, the system had already pulled up his itinerary for today: [Why did the host build a toilet? And go to the kitchen to cook?]
Eugene acted nonchalant: [Aish, it’s so filthy without a toilet, and there’s no good food. I’m going to die before the country falls! Besides, extravagance and dissipation are the calling cards of a tyrant!]
The system was speechless: [Host, you’re really something.]
[Right?] Eugene automatically took its words as praise. [The key is what you heard the kitchen maid say! Is she a key branch quest clue NPC?]
The game promotional videos Eugene had watched mentioned three major directions for territory construction: first, submit to the Holy See and unlock holy technology; second, devote oneself to science and unlock technological civilization; third, uncover magic and unlock arcane technology. All three directions required climbing the tech tree through key branch quests, with specialized NPCs providing clues.
The kitchen maid was the only servant from the south, and she knew the secret lore about magicians, so she looked like a clue NPC no matter how you sliced it!
The system: [You can ask the kitchen maid.]
Eugene whined: [Doing branch quests is troublesome and takes a long time. Big Brother Sys, do you have a guide or not?]
The system hesitated: [However…]
[Just think about it,] the newly appointed lord was self-taught and skillfully painted a huge, round pie for the system: [The Holy See honors the gods and detests magic. Then I will study magic myself and make my subordinates study it too! Once the matter is exposed, let alone the Holy See, even the knights who haven’t made a move yet will have to eliminate me first, right?]
The system: […]
Eugene wore a suspicious look: [Sys, you don’t seem to want me to study magic? Do you have a grudge against magicians? If so, I…]
[No,] the system interrupted him, its tone flat and seemingly more like a mechanical voice than before.
[The host’s rationale is sufficient; the system has retrieved relevant data.]
Sufficient rationale so it couldn’t refuse?
Eugene masked his contemplative expression, his voice turning exceedingly sweet as he lavished praise: [Sys, you’re so good! Without your help, I truly wouldn’t know how to ruin the country properly!]