LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 104
Wild game meat is delicious, huh?
Let’s be real, there’s no way that’s true.
It’s just a convenient frame that claims wild is better.
Of course, there are rare exceptions.
The same goes for the continent of Europa.
How could it possibly taste better than livestock that’s given focused care in a limited space, fed selected fodder and hay, and grazes grass?
The less active a body is, the softer its muscles become.
And the less active it is, the more fat it accumulates.
Generally, the targets of hunting are predefined.
They are wild animals or monsters that actively move more than half the day.
There’s no way the muscles of such creatures would be tender.
It’s rather fortunate if they don’t get stuck in your teeth when grilled.
Not to mention, wild meat that’s teetering on the brink of life and death is not something you can just slaughter and eat on the spot.
Even if it’s properly prepared, barriers remain.
The smell. It’s a factor that can divide preferences sharply and occupies a corner of taste.
For that reason, people twisted their bodies and squeezed out methods to tackle it.
Naturally, it’s obvious to drain the blood and innards as quickly as possible.
To make the tough meat tender, it’s common to let the slaughtered meat sit for a few days until the muscles relax, and this process is typically referred to as aging.
To deal with the smell, various spices are needed, and specific cooking methods were required.
There are even techniques developed to kill livestock without them realizing they were dying, fearing the tension in their muscles.
Thus, hunting for social purposes and grilling the hunted on the spot was truly a social “activity” serving various purposes.
It was definitely not for the sake of deliciousness.
“Ugh—”
Crunch, sizzle-sizzle—crunch!
Elder Iona was chewing the meat in her mouth with an odd sound.
She was a gourmet.
What need was there for someone of her stature to eat modestly?
After all, her only luxury was eating.
She was rumored to be among the simplest nobles when it came to maintaining dignity.
Elder Iona’s large well of knowledge, or rather, her experience pocket, was proof of that.
“Ooh, yum~”
Crunch, munch, sizzle—crunch.
It wasn’t quite like the days of the nobility starving in mere decades past.
Even the poorest now in Iceland can have two meals a day, if not full. With such power, why would a noble like her indulge in extravagance?
Thus, Iona’s skewer of mushrooms and mossy wild boar meat was objectively not something to be called delicious.
But as one chef once said, hunger is the best seasoning.
If it were the usual Iona, she would have just eaten a little out of courtesy.
Even if she joined a hunt hosted by her lord, Alfred, nothing would change.
The strong wild aroma and tough texture of the wild animal meat were not to Iona’s taste.
But at that moment, it only heightened her appetite.
The intense smell that pierced her sense was transformed into an appetite-inducing spice as it tangled with the campfire smoke.
Was that actually meat? The tough and hard texture seemed like cotton compared to the hardtack and jerky she had eaten over the past few days.
Of course, it wasn’t really that, just relatively speaking.
Regardless, the only change in the flavorless meat was when Iona began to chew it.
The strong fragrance that had been curled up inside was set free once it met with the salt on its surface, explosively filling her mouth.
The delightful flavor that a beef farm could never imitate, enhanced by the pepper, asserted itself even more.
“Oooh.”
If it were modern times, it could easily surpass a million views in an overwhelming spectacle.
Gordon and Sir Hyphon gazed at Iona in a daze.
No, the entire campsite was like that.
“Um? Why are you all staring at me like that?”
“Is it that delicious?”
“Gordon, you’ll understand once you taste it yourself.”
“Well then—”
Gordon turned his attention away from the potent second-hand violence in the clearing and immediately picked up a skewer.
The skewer consisted of alternating mushrooms picked by the servants and shaped cubes of meat, resembling a painted picture.
For a Swordmaster, hunger was a critical issue.
Eating more than others was vital for knights, mercenaries, and soldiers alike.
Rare were those who could eat more than them.
In fact, how much energy would it need to take down an ogre and smash rocks?
Just like that, Gordon had survived the past few days on minimal rations.
And now he faced the smoky aroma of meat.
The large steak skewered, eagerly bitten by Iona, provoked his appetite.
Gordon could no longer hold back.
Following the example of Sir Hyphon, he quickly stuffed the mushroom and meat into his mouth.
“Hmm….!?”
And he jolted at the unexpected sensation.
“What’s wrong? Did you burn your mouth?”
“There’s no way this could burn my mouth!”
“Then what’s with that intense reaction?”
“No, the juice from the mushroom just exploded.”
What happened in Gordon’s mouth was just as described.
The beautifully grilled mushroom burst while under pressure, releasing its moisture.
But it wasn’t ordinary moisture.
Typically, mushrooms release moisture when heated.
That emptiness was filled and absorbed by the juices from the mossy wild boar as it was fried.
The insides were tender, while the outside was chewy—mushroom.
Added to that was the intense flavor of the mossy wild boar.
Iona’s sudden food show did cool the meat a little.
But that wouldn’t stop Gordon from continuing his meal.
Gordon had the strength to eat hardtack raw and tear off jerky.
This texture was just a new spice to stimulate his sense of touch.
He didn’t intend to make this a habit.
But once in a while, this texture was not bad.
“While the softness is nice, sometimes a texture this chewy is great too.”
Sir Hyphon silently agreed as he chewed on the meat.
Cooking is not just something felt by the tongue.
It involves the eyes that see, the ears that hear, the nose that smells, the mouth and throat that taste, and the fingertips feeling texture—all five senses.
The skewer before them was a splendid dish in that sense, stimulating all five senses simultaneously.
Combined with their hunger, it was not for showcasing power or strength.
It was a deep satisfaction that came from within.
As the three, who ate more than the average person, devoured the skewers with lightning speed, the servants hurriedly brought new skewers overflowing with them.
Their hunger was somewhat quenched.
Having regained some semblance of reason, Gordon took his time to savor the taste this time.
“So, what’s our goal? We can’t just keep running around with so many people and avoiding pursuit.”
“Well, that’s already determined.”
Iona took a big bite of her skewer.
“By now, they should have assembled a unit to rescue us after receiving the messenger’s contact.”
“Then we can afford to take it easy.”
“Ha, you’ve been the busiest running around these past few days. You must be getting tired, huh?”
“Before being a Swordmaster, I’m still a person after all. I’ll definitely make sure to be rewarded for this.”
“Ha, who do you think I am?”
Of course, Gordon wasn’t genuinely asking.
That was merely a question thrown out just in case.
It was understandable; Iona was no ordinary noble.
A direct vassal of a high noble. The steward.
Moreover, she was a religious elder honored in various places throughout Europa, neither major nor minor.
“Of course, I would know! You will surely take good care of me and my temporary subordinates, right?”
“Sure, as much as you want! Our destination is Blackwood Village, located in the Felwinter Family’s estate nearby. The rescue team should be aiming for that place as well. Now, let’s check the map…”
“Oh, I know where that is.”
Gordon had been there once after entering Iceland.
“So I would suggest something.”
“Uh?”
“How about meeting the venerable lord?”
Iona, being a pure-blooded Iceland native, spoke plainly without any hesitation.
“Isn’t it strange to just remain a typical mercenary when you have the ability to crush a group of hundreds of monsters and eradicate their leader? The power of a Swordmaster is also notable. Wouldn’t it be stranger if you weren’t an S-rank adventurer?”
“Ah, S-rank mercenaries, even without that, have limitations on movement. Plenty of interference too.”
“Sure, there’d be those wanting to capture you and those who’d be jealous.”
“Mhm.”
With that said, it’s natural that one might feel heavy in the heart.
A subtle smile appeared on Iona’s face as she looked at Gordon.
“With your level of skill, skipping straight to noble status is a sure thing. You’d probably start as a Baron.”
“Ha, many would say that’s overqualified for a serf-born mercenary.”
“As I said, in Iceland, it’s all about skill. The only ones who can get away with the opposite would be the Felwinter Family.”
“Ah, I just asked out of curiosity.”
Gordon waved his hand as if dismissing his previous words.
“I think I might understand your concern.”
Sir Hyphon swallowed what was in his mouth and chuckled.
“If anyone is rude, just challenge them to a duel and bash their heads.”
“That’s a rather carefree way of handling things.”
“It’s a culture nurtured among knights and nobles who grew up in warm regions. There’s none of that culture in Iceland.”
“Mhm.”
With such blunt talk, feeling a hint of a heavy heart was only natural.
To that, Iona responded with a delicate smile.
“With your level of skill, you’d be able to bypass all that and secure territory nobility without a hitch. You’d probably start as a Baron.”
“Ha, many would consider that excessive for a serf-born mercenary.”
“As I mentioned, in Iceland, skill is what matters. And if someone’s unhappy…”
“Which means they should just handle it with a duel, right? I heard what you said on the side.”
“Well, while there may be those who would challenge you, it won’t be a problem.”
“Being the one to provoke such a challenge…”
Whoosh.
“What?”
A sugary scent, heavy and sweet, brushed through the inside of the body.
If Karem, who remembers his past life, had been present here, his eyes would have surely bulged in frenzy.
That’s because the sweet smell was just like vanilla.
However, Gordon stiffened his face at that irresistible alluring aroma.
Someone could have snuck in desserts or sugar, perhaps.
But Gordon could assure that was definitely not the case.
Normally, it might be a scent so faint it could be easily overlooked. But the current campsite was overwhelmed by the aromas of the campfire, pepper, and fragrant mushrooms.
In such a situation, rebuffing such an enticing smell was difficult.
Especially if the owner of this scent had formerly been part of the monster horde that had been pursuing them.
Gordon glanced around the campsite.
But everyone who had been focused on the meal stood transfixed.
Not just them; mercenaries rolling dice, soldiers standing guard, servants rotating skewers on the campfire, and even workers moving around, along with Sir Hyphon and Iona.
If it had been just one person, it might have been overlooked, but everyone present was sniffing the same scent.
And Gordon was the quickest to grasp the situation.
A horde of monsters was getting near.
The one silver lining was that they were still at a safe distance.
The faint scent that almost went unnoticed proved it.
At that moment, some mercenaries exchanged glances.
The mercenaries calmed the soldiers, who then communicated that there was still time left.
However, the bad news had diminished the campsite’s previous vivacity.
They mechanically chewed and swallowed mushrooms and mossy wild boar meat as quickly as possible.
“Weren’t we told there would be at least a day’s grace?”
“Perhaps there’s a shaman in that monster horde, or they might be fiercely pursuing us out of revenge for losing their leader.”
“Well, either way, this isn’t a good situation.”
“Based on the scent, it doesn’t look like we have a full day—probably just half a day…”
There was no time for digestion after eating.
The group that had swiftly devoured a whole wild boar left the campsite in a hurry.
And in half a day, a horde of furry monsters, roughly the size of a bear and with large flat nozzles, swept through the campsite in pursuit of their party.