Ch.175The Road to Amarantin (3)
by fnovelpia
“Not much left until Amarantin now.”
I muttered while tossing firewood into the campfire.
Due to certain circumstances, I ended up making dinner today, so I got up and threw the prepared ingredients into the boiling pot.
With splashing sounds, the juices from vegetables and meat began to seep into the water. As I skimmed off the impurities one by one with a ladle and sprinkled them onto the dirt ground, Simon and the elf sisters began exchanging banter.
“Indeed. How time flies… Even a year passes in the blink of an eye when you’re getting older…”
“Ah… So that’s why my perception of time…”
“In your case, it’s because of the delirium from alcohol.”
“…”
It’s a good thing they can be so comfortable with each other.
I’m not sure if it’s because I know how few people get the chance to sit around together and have conversations like this.
“So what’s on the menu tonight?”
“Stew. The one they serve at inns.”
“Ah… ‘Eternal Stew’ then.”
Crackle! Crackle!
The campfire was blazing, and above it, the Eternal Stew was bubbling in the pot.
The reason it was called “Eternal” was both complex and simple at the same time.
You throw in all sorts of ingredients and boil them, and when it seems to be running low, you add salt and water, then throw in more ingredients to replenish the stew, “eternally” repeating this process.
Simply put, it was literally a hodgepodge, and the taste varied tremendously depending on the ingredients used.
Bubble bubble…
“…”
I always wonder, is the sound of boiling water more like “boggle boggle” or “poggle poggle”?
Actually, it didn’t matter either way.
The sound meant it was ready to eat now.
“Alright. Let’s eat.”
“Hmm… Let me have a taste…”
Simon was the first to scoop up a large bowl with the ladle, and while stroking his beard, he put the Eternal Stew I had cooked into his mouth.
“Hmm… Not bad. Tastes just like the one at the inn.”
“Ooh~ You’re quite the cook~”
“Well… You’d get in big trouble if you just picked up anything from the street to eat… You need at least basic cooking skills to survive healthily.”
In truth, hardly anyone starved in the city.
I had my share of meager meals too. But once I could earn money, I rarely went hungry without reason.
It was just a matter of quality and quantity of food.
Fortunately, Parcival was a coastal city, which meant that if you could overcome the fear of the sea and hypothermia, you could catch all sorts of seafood by the docks.
Of course, many were torn to pieces by the screws or paddle wheels of approaching steamships, but that couldn’t be helped, and most of the poor made do with seafood stews and soups. When they caught only a little, they’d make thin soups and broths to get by.
Of course, being a coastal city was a double-edged sword when it came to harvesting seafood. Where do you think all the industrial waste and sewage from that large population went?
Occasionally, you’d see people on the streets dying from complications after their skin peeled off from factory wastewater exposure, and such people never got up again.
“Hmm… It would have been better if we could have added some clams…”
“Ugh… I hate shellfish.”
“Oh? But you eat fish just fine?”
“Shellfish remind me of barnacles.”
“Ah…”
Depending on the climate and region, barnacles were among the least tasty of shellfish.
They were basically toxic, and… seeing them stuck all over breakwaters, embankments, and ship bottoms gave me a visceral aversion.
I heard some orphanages collected barnacles to make soup, which might be why “orphan” became a derogatory term.
“Tsk… I miss my wife’s cooking.”
“They say husband and wife are one body, and your wife is just like you! Who else would smear aura on a spear and throw it to catch a deer 2km away?”
“She missed the deer, fell ill, and my sister had to run out to retrieve the spear… Such a waste of time… It was truly a pointless endeavor.”
That’s right.
The reason I was cooking instead of my wife was because she wasn’t here!
Perhaps my simplicity had simplified her brain wrinkles too, causing her to commit such an adorable blunder.
But what does it matter?
We filled our bellies in the end, didn’t we?
“Have a drink.”
And any deficiency in meal quality could be made up for with an alcohol buff.
*
Two days remained until Amarantin.
We’d already encountered more than three groups of bandits, and probably over 100 monsters.
Clearly, there was a reason why airships were essential means of transportation in this world.
If even a small, inconspicuous adventurer party faced this much trouble, an army of one million marching to enemy territory would arrive with only half their numbers, the rest having perished fighting monsters along the way.
“Simon.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m curious, what’s the difference between adventurers and mercenaries?”
“Ah… There’s not much difference, really. The Mercenary Guild and Adventurer Guild are essentially one and the same.”
“Really?”
“The Mercenary Guild doesn’t have the privileges that come with the Adventurer Guild in principle, but there’s no rule saying mercenaries can’t register as adventurers… So when mercenary groups disband, like-minded comrades often form parties, and when parties grow, they sometimes become mercenary groups.”
“Hoh…”
“That’s also why airships are symbols of mercenary groups. In national or international wars, supersonic fighters and bombers are flying around—who would use slow airships? Since fighters and bombers aren’t sold to civilians, airships were used as a makeshift solution. As they kept using them, they turned out to be quite practical and became symbols.”
“Practical how?”
“The biggest advantage airships have over airplanes is their low maintenance cost. Unlike airplanes that fly with all sorts of complex machinery, airships using buoyancy just need hydrogen or helium to float around.
Plus, they can stay in one place for a long time, making them good for mercenary groups on guard or garrison duty, and they can carry several times more cargo than airplanes, so they can transport animals like horses too. Requests to capture animals are quite common, you know.”
“Hoh…”
“If adventurers are small-scale decapitation units operating in tactical domains, mercenary groups are frontline units operating in operational and strategic domains. That’s how they actually function.”
“For example?”
“Well… like this. An adventurer goes to fulfill a request, but discovers information that mermen forces are about to invade… Or a mercenary group is facing off against an enemy and needs someone to infiltrate enemy lines to gather intelligence…”
“I see.”
In short, they call on each other when they’re in a bind.
Mercenary groups hire adventurers when they think, “If we could just drop a squad or platoon there, it would be great,” and adventurers hire mercenary groups when they think, “Damn, if we go alone, there’s a 140% chance we’ll die.”
I specifically said 140% because there was also the possibility of becoming undead after death.
“Do nobles directly run mercenary groups too?”
“Many do. Second or third sons don’t inherit domains, so they often establish mercenary groups with money given by their lord or eldest brother. Being nobles, they have connections, so they get plenty of work.”
“Heeh…”
I knew everything in the world moved with money, but actually learning how people with the same roots split into different factions because of money gave me a strange feeling.
It felt like when I first became an adventurer and realized how easily I could earn money.
Of course, I had to risk my life, but life could be lost at any moment anyway.
With that thought, I suddenly remembered that Amarantin was famous for its swords, and said to Simon:
“When we get to Amarantin, I need to get a new sword made.”
I tapped the orichalcum twin swords at my waist.
Simon narrowed his eyes and asked me in a tone that suggested I was being ridiculous:
“Hmm… Is orichalcum not enough?”
“That’s not what I mean. I think a greatsword would be better than twin swords. That’s what I used originally anyway. Amarantin should have artisans who can work with orichalcum, so I want to combine the twin swords into a greatsword.”
“Ah… That’s what you meant. But is it okay to melt down and reforge holy relics as you please?”
“Hmm… Hold on.”
I took off my helmet, looked up at the sky, and asked:
Is it okay?
[It is permitted.]
“He says it’s fine.”
“Boss, you really are like a con artist, you know that?”
“I told you, only I can hear it!”
“Maybe ancient empires collapsed because of people like you who claim to hear voices?”
“You little…”
Bonk!
“Ow!”
I turned Lucia’s head into a bean, then took my place at the front of the formation again.
The wind flowed steadily, the river trickled, and Lucia’s brain matter also trickled.
It was spring.
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