LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 109
Gordon opened the oven door and looked at Karem, who was bent over.
To be honest, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t feeling any anticipation.
His time in Blackwood Village was truly just a brief moment.
However, it was easy to gather the big and small rumors about Karem.
As a result, he could roughly grasp what notable achievements had been made over the past year.
He had subdued every man in Coldon using the Fire Witch Finger.
A shadowy boy power player who built connections with the Felwinter family and claimed a corner of the aristocracy.
There were even rumors that a dark elf delegation across the sea had failed to persuade him and had clung to his pants begging to learn how to cook.
Of course, Gordon had skipped the parts he should’ve gotten caught up in.
Otherwise, the last part about the dark elves wouldn’t even make sense.
But, maybe…
It could have made sense.
The aroma of truly delicious food could be perceived by smell alone before eating.
And inside the oven, hidden behind Karem’s body, a wonderfully appetizing scent wafted forth, bursting with warmth.
‘Could that smell really be this captivating?’
The scent of Grizzly Beaver was simply sweet and enchanting, even in the wild.
But that it could explode with such aroma once heated was unexpected.
And Karem, with hands covered in oven mitts, pulled out the tray and placed it on the table.
“Um, custard tart.”
“I call it egg tart, but—”
Like the saying goes, the most frightening flavor is the one you’re familiar with; Gordon glanced down at the tray of egg tarts placed beside a giant bowl of ice cream that was exuding cold air.
To be frank, tarts are one of the easiest desserts to come by if you’ve got some money.
Thus, whenever Gordon visited the city and craved dessert, he occasionally bought tarts, which varied greatly by region and city.
The most basic one was the custard/egg tart filled with custard.
Or the nut tart filled with one or more types of nuts, fresh or pickled fruits, or fruit tarts brimming with jam, etc.
But inevitably, as is often the case, Gordon’s hand gravitated toward the egg tart.
The custard filling in the slightly scorched tart shell was likely bright yellow by nature.
But due to the intense heat from the oven, it was scorched in places like a cooling magma, taking on a rich dark golden-brown and black hue.
What’s more, there was an aroma that tantalizingly stimulated the senses.
“Alright. I can’t hold back any longer. I’m eating?”
“Uh, it’s hot right now so my hand—uh? Uh-oh??”
“I’ve never eaten a freshly baked hot custard tart before.”
I-I’m about to burn my hand and my palate! …But it’s fine?
Despite Karem’s worries, Gordon swiftly used a dagger to grab the tart and tossed the still-warm egg tart into his mouth.
Crunch crunch crunch!
“Wow, it’s not even hot.”
“Hey, kid. Hey, kid.”
“Ah, excuse me. Which one should I serve first?”
“First, let’s start with the ice cream.”
Well, he had eaten boiling soup or meat like it was nothing before.
Karem thought what a shocking sight it was, seeing Gordon munching down on a steaming hunk of meat.
Come to think of it, the knights feasting at banquets that Karem remembered had been just like Gordon.
Shoving steaming hot chunks of meat into their mouths as the heat rose around them.
Was that the nature of magic users? Karem thought, easing his worries and began to shape the ice cream into a round ball.
Just as Karem thought, the scorching heat that felt like it would peel away his palate turned into a pleasant warmth for Gordon.
After all, what he had eaten before was long gone.
He had been enduring his hunger while sipping on watered-down wine, waiting for this moment.
And Gordon’s expectations were rewarded.
Under the pressure in his mouth, the tart shell crumbled, making a crisp sound like a dense cookie, hardening like a sandcastle.
And the moist texture of the shortbread, which retained moisture, was felt within.
Then the taste and aroma of butter exploded.
As he crunched down, the custard filling erupted like magma bursting from a volcano.
Gordon felt the delicate filling surging out between the crunchy tart shell fragments, his body shuddering in surprise.
The size of the tart on the tray was barely a bit bigger than a fist, but the flavors and aromas held within were anything but “just that.”
Especially as the shell crumbled in his mouth and the filling exploded.
That was a scent more intense and captivating than any flower, the sweet aroma of vanilla.
Years spent as a mercenary, and of course, Gordon had hunted plenty of monsters, so he was well aware of the scents that lured in creatures, the pheromones that monsters emitted.
Mostly plant-type monsters.
For example, the Alraune, a plant monster shaped like a human.
Or the Nepenthes, resembling a fat flower pot.
As such, he had several perplexing experiences.
It was understandable at the time since his skills hadn’t been what they were now.
But what if he had eaten this when he was young?
Gordon could bet on it.
He could have chuckled while stabbing a knife into their faces.
“—Well, back then I didn’t have money for a tart, so that thought is moot.”
“…Hey mercenary. What are you taking so long to savor that tiny tart for?”
“Shh. Sir/Madam Mage. I’m savoring the aftertaste right now.”
“Huh? Aftertaste—”
“Shhh!”
With his eyes shut tight, Gordon quickly seized a tart from the tray and hurled it into his mouth, chewing slowly.
“The aroma is certainly captivating, but…”
“Should I serve it as tart instead of ice cream?”
“No, let’s start with the ice cream. The Grizzly—”
Karem looked at Catherine with a threatening glare for the first time.
“I added vanilla, but there’s no special flavor coming through?”
“It is ice cream, after all.”
Catherine looked at the spoon Karem was offering with a skeptical eye.
The pale yellow was due to the mixing of cream and yolks.
However, it was adorned with odd dots.
It looked like white soup with a sprinkle of pepper stirred into it.
That must surely be the Grizzly Beaver vanilla that Catherine’s favorite personal chef had emphasized.
No, in fact, what was this? Just dried and powdered… Ah, damn this Karem kid?
Even while knowing it was nothing special, the part was what it was, so Catherine felt a strange discomfort, but then scolded herself for feeling uneasy about trivial things.
She wasn’t naïve enough for that.
After all, she had dealt with worse.
Magic, alchemy, shamanism, potion crafting; the materials with extraordinary and surprising effects were often quite bizarre.
Of course, no one could blame her for that.
To think she was uneasy about Grizzly Beaver vanilla when it had monster and animal innards as ingredients too.
Thinking that way didn’t lighten Catherine’s heart in the slightest.
After all, they were going to use something dried and powdered without any processing.
Even if her opinions changed, her heart and chest felt heavy still.
‘At some point, I’ll just extract the elements later. For now…’
Catherine looked down at the ice cream with a sour expression.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Nom.
Finally, she bit into the spoon Karem had offered.
In a flash.
As expected of Catherine, master of ice magic, she often, no, frequently had the chance to taste various ice creams at the Wizard’s Tower, with cream and yolk ice cream being included.
But, would it taste this different just because the flavor changed?
No, when you think about it, it wasn’t just a single flavor.
Sure, no matter how horrible potions tasted, as long as they had no smell, she could endure eating them to some extent.
But still.
“Mmmmmm.”
Catherine inadvertently let out a murmur of admiration.
Karem flashed a victorious smile, while Catherine had no choice but to smile back subtly and nod.
First, the texture.
As it touched her tongue, it began to melt slowly, coating her mouth in a cold and smooth sensation that was very familiar.
Ironically, because it lacked any significant impurities, the cream’s softness was all the more pronounced.
And from then on, it began to showcase the vanilla flavor.
The ice cream warmed slightly from her body heat, allowing the subdued flavor to burst forth.
It was as if spring had pushed aside winter, and summer had arrived.
The sweet fragrance of vanilla wafted through as Catherine inhaled and exhaled, gently brushing against her lungs, throat, nose, and mouth.
Yet the coldness of the ice cream resisted it.
It melted little by little, slowly making its way down her throat.
As the smooth ice cream melted away, the sweet taste of the vanilla wafted through not only her mouth but also through her nose and throat.
Food, cooking is not meant to be consumed merely for taste.
The sweet aroma that harmonized with the flavor and the silky texture.
If only it didn’t have all that Grizzly Beaver nonsense.
“Who would’ve thought that cosmetic ingredients could taste this good?”
“How is it? This should also work well like the Fire Witch Finger, right?”
“It’s unlikely to spread like that spicy powder, above or below.”
Karem, noticing Catherine’s silence, quickly scooped another spoonful of vanilla ice cream and handed it over.
Still, perhaps because she had tasted it once, the second was less daunting than the first.
Hmph.
“Mmm. Supply probably won’t be able to keep up with demand.”
“Well, we can only procure a limited quantity at a time.”
“However, if we limit it to middle-class or above, it will be a massive trend.”
Catherine could swear she was certain of it.
If the Fire Witch Finger had sparked a trend irrespective of wealth and class, this would serve as a means for the upper middle class to flaunt their wealth.
Just like how pepper was once considered luxurious.
Just as cream and eggs symbolized wealth back in old Iceland.
“Hah!”
Suddenly, Catherine exclaimed in admiration.
“Sir/Madam Mage? Are you feeling unwell all of a sudden?”
“What’s this? Hey Mercenary, are you picking a fight after so long?”
“No, no. I’m just asking if you got a headache after eating so much cold stuff.”
“Ha, I’m the master of ice magic. I wouldn’t even catch that kind of headache even if I wanted to.”
Catherine shot Gordon a glare as if to say he was asking unnecessary questions.
“Just think of it as Sir Atanitas’ thing. Um, uh… what was it? Oh, right. Racial traits.”
“Like trolls’ regeneration or ogres’ durability?”
“Yes. It’s just like that. Grand Wizards or Swordmasters, etc., have some sort of unique trait that sets them apart from ordinary people.”
Karem said enviously.
At his remark, Catherine gave Karem a complicated look.
She had no particular thoughts, but the idea of racially unique traits felt cheapening.
To put it plainly, it didn’t sit well with her to reduce the powers gained as a Grand Wizard into that label.
It felt a lot like reading detailed accounts of monsters in scholarly texts.
Under normal circumstances, she would’ve scolded him to choose his words more carefully and would’ve slapped him on the head, but Catherine decided to let it slide today.
With such an exquisite creation before her, there was no time to throw a tantrum.
That time felt wasted.
“Ah.”
“Hm? Sir Atanitas, is there something you find unsatisfactory?”
“No. Objectively speaking, there’s absolutely nothing wrong. Yes. This could be the most ‘basic’ ice cream. It’s almost perfect.”
“If that’s the case—”
“I just came up with a thought that’s more devilish in nature.”
Catherine pointed with her finger from the vanilla ice cream to the egg tart.
“Kid. What would happen if you ate these together?”
A shiver ran through Karem, who slapped his forehead.
“Wow, I never thought of that.”