LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 108
After the Rescue Team achieved both objectives,
Catherine and her fellow mages had a clear task at hand as they transitioned into the Subjugation Team to absorb the local manpower.
The safe return of Elder Iona.
The reason Catherine and her mages were mobilized in the first place was to prepare for any unexpected circumstances.
Naturally, it made more sense to have a Grand Wizard with a Swordmaster than to rely solely on one.
However, the cause of the issue was the periodically appearing Grizzly Beaver?
Then there was no real need for Catherine and the mages.
To be frank, their power was overkill.
Perhaps Alfred thought the same, as the letter he sent to the Rescue Team included instructions for Catherine and her subordinates to return alongside Iona.
But that would take time.
There were several reasons, none of them particularly special.
The Grizzly Beaver had made its reappearance just when the Rescue Team arrived at Blackwood Village, their gathering point, and preparations were still incomplete.
After the first wave of subjugation, with the site needing organization, adventurers had begun flocking to the makeshift Adventurer Guild that had set up in the village, temporarily paralyzing the operations of the Subjugation Team.
As a result, Catherine’s schedule was thrown into disarray.
Her subordinates, the mages, faced the same fate.
Thus, while Catherine found herself enjoying an unexpected leisure time after arriving in Blackwood Village,
“Yeah, I did see the Grizzly Beaver’s… parts being used as cosmetics up north on the continent. That was a while ago, though.”
Now her expression was utterly crumpled.
This was the last resistance of an enlightened individual who had seen something terrible.
“But…”
Catherine pointed sourly at the pile of dried, sweet-smelling remnants stacked on the kitchen table.
“Are… all of these the Grizzly Beaver’s reproductive glands?”
“Yes.”
Karem replied firmly, meeting Catherine’s gaze.
Spices are typically dried for convenience and preservation.
The same went for the biological vanilla from the Grizzly Beaver.
Of course, if it were a beaver Karem knew, it would have been a different story.
But this was Europa.
The Grizzly Beaver could rival any large bear in size.
However, the traditional drying methods didn’t get completed in just a day or two.
Especially considering the massive size.
But once they returned to Winterhome, it wouldn’t matter anymore.
However, Karem couldn’t wait that long.
His patience had already flown out the window, along with Gordon’s kicks.
A true cook finds ways even in short supply of materials.
Karem immediately thought of a quicker and simpler method.
‘Wait, wait! You want me to ask for this out of the blue!?’
‘Now, smell this. Isn’t it divine?’
‘Yeah… it’s sweet alright.’
‘How about we add cream and milk to create a dessert?’
‘Ah, so we just need to dry it out completely?’
Karem rushed to find Narque and made his request.
Necromancy is the magic that deals with corpses.
So there probably exists magic for drying biological materials too.
It was a slightly biased thought, but with a bit of persuasion, Narque happily fulfilled Karem’s request, and the pile in the kitchen, which Catherine couldn’t even bring herself to mention, was the result.
“Well, the collection point might seem off-putting, but people eat a lot of animal parts indiscriminately, right?”
Unlike the horrified Catherine, Gordon remained unflustered.
Given the rough life of a mercenary, it only made sense.
“Or perhaps, as a precious mage, you’re not accustomed to such things?”
“Those are animal innards, they can’t be compared to monster innards.”
“I heard monster innards are used quite often. It’s the same for X blood, isn’t it?”
“Does that look like a reproductive gland to you? And by the way, have you heard about cooking monster innards, let alone using them in desserts?”
Gordon raised his hands in surrender.
But man, X blood, that phrase was incredibly hard to adjust to.
“Alright, just focus for a moment.”
Karem clapped to capture both their attention.
“Since saying ‘innards’, ‘X blood’, or ‘reproductive glands’ is a bit uncomfortable, let’s just call it vanilla moving forward.”
“Huh? Out of the blue?”
“If we end up serving these desserts to nobles later, wouldn’t it be awkward to mislabel it as ‘X blood’ or ‘reproductive glands’?”
“Oh…”
Gordon quickly comprehended and sat back down.
Karem then turned his gaze to Catherine.
“You mentioned this dried stuff is used in cosmetics, right?”
“Yep. Similarly, in a country to the north of the continent where Grizzly Beavers roam. But did you just bring it out without a clue?”
“Uh, to be honest, once I caught a whiff, I lost my head.”
Catherine sighed in disbelief at his straightforwardness.
‘No, now that I think about it, this sort of thing always happens with him.’
Karem pondered while cutting into the vanilla skin of the Grizzly Beaver.
In just a little while, it would mark one year since Karem had been hired by Catherine.
And within that short period of time, the boy had brought forth waves of incidents and changes big and small whenever it felt like it was forgotten.
Of course, the big incident was just one.
But that one Fire Witch Finger was spreading all across Iceland, deeply embedding itself in the local food culture.
Not only did it create a craze around the Fire Witch Finger, but that trend was changing the food culture of Iceland as it spread throughout the region come spring and summer.
On top of that were the various recipes provided to the chefs in Winterhome.
Innovative dishes that defied categorization.
With some strong connections built, albeit somewhat forcefully, among the key powers of Iceland.
So now, the only question left for Catherine was one.
“Typically, it’s normal to either melt the contents of that dried stuff into oil for use or to pack it into small pouches as aroma bags.”
“Isn’t there any need for refinement or filtering out impurities?”
“Right. As far as I know, there’s no need.”
Then there was nothing holding Karem back anymore.
From the very start, what they intended to make was already determined.
Karem promptly added milk, sugar, and powdered black vanilla into a pot, turned up the heat, and then worked butter into the cold dough with a folding motion.
Not only that, he was multitasking at the same time.
“Karem, what are you so busily making?”
“A custard tart. And ice cream!”
“…Ice cream?”
“Oh, you don’t know what ice cream is, do you?”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I don’t know. What is it?”
“It’s a frozen dessert made with cream instead of juice or wine.”
When it comes to frozen desserts, is it sorbet? How would that even work? It’s not even winter, and there’s no ice.
Karem shrugged, turning his head away from Gordon’s bemused gaze, where Catherine was sitting nearby.
Naturally, Gordon looked perplexed.
“Sir Mage, is this common for you?”
“Well, apparently, I’m the employer of the little one, but often it seems like that brat is bossing me around.”
“And you just go along with it.”
“There’s no helping it. If the end result is lackluster, then it’s one thing, but if it’s also fascinating and delicious, then…”
What on earth happened in my absence?
Clearly, when he last saw her, Catherine had started getting wrapped up in Karem’s antics.
But Gordon’s thoughts couldn’t extend beyond that.
Karem quickly shoved a big bowl into Gordon’s hands.
Inside was whipped cream.
And a whisk.
“What’s this? What do you want me to do?”
“You just need to whip it.”
“What?”
“Like this.”
Karem showed him how it was done with the bowl and whisk.
It wasn’t a particularly complicated task for Gordon.
But feelings can be a tricky business…
Yet there was no room for rebuttal.
Karem promptly handed over the vanilla liquid, which had been heated with cream, sugar, and vanilla to Catherine.
“Could you cool this down a bit?”
“Well, it’s not a tough job, but it’s a little unexpected.”
“Y-yeah? What do you mean?”
“Little one. Usually when you bring out some bizarre ingredient, you whip up some unheard-of dish.”
Catherine looked around the kitchen.
“A custard tart and ice cream? Familiar items though.”
“Oh, just wait until you taste them; you’ll change your mind.”
“Hmmm, the smell is definitely richer. Is it really that boastful?”
“Of course!”
Karem nodded confidently.
When the smell makes it hard to eat, the saying to hold your breath exists for a reason.
The sense of smell plays a surprisingly large role when tasting something.
The capitalistic behaviors of merchants during the Age of Exploration, causing all sorts of incidents over a single spice, proves this fact.
Or taking into account that when your sense of smell is dulled, the taste difference between apple and onion isn’t that pronounced.
In modern Earth, vanilla may not reach the level of the first-grade saffron, which is pricier than gold by weight, but it ranks second.
And the aroma of the Grizzly Beaver’s vanilla was far richer than any vanilla beans Karem had frequently encountered in his past life.
As Catherine tried to cool down the pot, Karem quickly retrieved the almost-whipped bowl from Gordon, added the vanilla liquid into it, and mixed it all together.
Placing the dough into the tart shell and filling it with custard, Karem then took the bowl containing the soon-to-be ice cream liquid and a spatula in hand.
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“Ssshh.”
Gordon watched the whole scene with a slightly anxious look on his face.
He’d thought about it before.
What in the world happened in this almost year’s gap?
A boy whose cooking skills were already impressive for his age.
It was entirely reasonable to grasp that Karem had taken his skills beyond mere imagination.
“Maybe it could cool down a little faster.”
“If you do that, it’ll freeze completely, turning it into ice, not ice cream.”
“Hmm, that really wouldn’t do.”
“You just need to keep mixing until the tart is done baking with the cooling temperature.”
Yet, right before his eyes, something felt odd.
It wasn’t the mere politeness that the servant was actually bossing the master around.
But it seemed this reversal of roles was not a first-time occurrence, as Karem’s demands felt completely natural, and Catherine accepted them as if it were only logical.
And soon, Gordon was able to recognize two reasons.
The once liquid in the bowl, just splashing with each stir, was gradually developing a texture.
Soon, the contents of the bowl began to change into something nearly indescribable with Gordon’s vocabulary.
Having wandered through Europa’s continent for a long time, Gordon had tasted all sorts of dishes.
Among them were snowflakes topped with syrup, ice with wine and honey, as well as sweet sorbet made of frozen juice and wine.
But what sat before him in the bowl was unlike any of those.
‘What… should I even call this?’
Certainly a snowy land, thick with falling snow.
This untouched little patch of snow shaped softly, changing form with each movement of the spatula, yet it didn’t collapse at all.
And then, all of a sudden.
A sweet aroma gently flowed through the room.
That enchanting scent of the Grizzly Beaver’s vanilla mixed with the sweet milky smell, turning ever softer and sweeter.
“Little one, I think that’s enough?”
“Yep, the tart should be done baking by now.”
Creak—fwooosh!
The oven door swung open.
The fragrance that had been building thus far felt like a joke as a rich sweetness, sensual enough to tease the tongue, conquered the kitchen entirely.