Ch.5319. A Night for Two (2)

As a Korean, I’m probably more familiar with samgyeopsal than anyone else.

But the food Yuri brought out was unusual. It had too much fat to be considered bacon. Yet Yuri nonchalantly took out that fatty meat and sliced it.

Of course, she didn’t need a knife. Her freezing spell created an extremely sharp ice blade that served as a substitute.

Yuri took out two disposable plates and placed the sliced meat on them.

“Um… I made it myself, so I’m not sure if it tastes good. Would you like to try some?”

It had a lot of fat with a bit of lean meat visible. It looked aged but still resembled raw meat.

‘This is… a traditional Russian food, right?’

Salo (Сало), a traditional dish. As it appears, it’s made by curing fatty pork with a bit of meat attached using spices and salt, served raw.

Of course, I’ve tried it before. Whenever Yuri didn’t like the cafeteria food at Eins, she would either eat square cup noodles or bring salo as her lunch box.

She had already taken out vodka. Looking at the label, it was a high-proof vodka known for its strong taste.

“Oh, I almost served you the salo just like this. It tastes better with some simple bread.”

She also took out black bread, the kind Russians love, and sliced some for me.

Although the Slavic Kingdom wasn’t Russia, the cultural similarities were remarkably striking.

‘Red Lake must have liked Slavic culture.’

The original creator must have established that setting. Meanwhile, Yuri was looking at me with bright, sparkling eyes.

No, she seemed a bit nervous.

‘This salo. Yuri said she made it herself.’

The recipe itself isn’t difficult, so Yuri could certainly make it. It seemed like she wanted me to try the food she had prepared.

‘A handmade lunch box of pork fat.’

I tried the salo by placing it between slices of black bread. It tasted just as I remembered. The strong rye flavor and sourness of the black bread, with the taste of pork fat seeping through.

‘The taste is certainly unique.’

Unlike regular bread, black bread is quite polarizing. And with the texture and raw bacon-like taste of salo in between.

This is truly the traditional Slavic taste. It’s not that it tastes bad, but like many traditional foods, it’s an acquired taste. Still, since I was already familiar with the flavor, I could enjoy it.

‘It has a camping food taste to it.’

After all, salo itself is a Slavic traditional food developed to adapt to extreme cold. Yuri watched me as I ate.

“Um… how does it taste?”

“It’s edible… no, it’s delicious.”

“Really? I was nervous you might not like it. I’m so relieved! Even though you’ve tried Slavic traditional flavors before, Minsu, I was worried it might not suit your taste…”

In that moment, Yuri broke into a full smile. Since she normally doesn’t show her emotions or expressions well, this level of reaction means she’s extremely happy.

‘Is she that pleased?’

It was like the reaction of a woman who loves cooking for someone she cares about. That might be half true.

Yuri sat beside me and started munching on her own salo sandwich. Then she poured vodka into a fairly large cup and began drinking it like soda.

“Oh, what about a drink for Minsu…”

“Water is fine for me.”

“But this is a special occasion… Um, I brought some other drinks just in case!”

She pulled out a non-alcoholic beer from her backpack and handed it to me.

‘Beer is literally a soft drink by Yuri’s standards.’

But the fact that it was non-alcoholic showed she was being considerate of me.

“Thank you, Guild Leader.”

I said that and opened the beer can. At that moment, our eyes met as we both held our drinks.

“Um… shall we make a toast? N-not for any particular reason. It’s just… colleagues usually have a casual drink together, right?”

“Let’s do that.”

The night was long, and we were alone in this shelter. It didn’t seem like a bad idea to help Yuri relax, as she seemed too conscious of my presence.

And so our dinner continued. Perhaps because of the alcohol, the atmosphere became a little looser.

***

Dinner lasted longer than expected.

Actually, it was less like dinner and more like camping or a company dinner that kept going. Yuri, who had already emptied one bottle of vodka, took out a new one.

‘She brought two bottles?’

Her normally pale, almost translucent cheeks had turned redder. As a high-level awakened one, Yuri could certainly stay sober if she wanted to.

But the subtle glow from the heater and the strange remoteness of the indoor shelter seemed to have loosened her up. Clearly, I could sense that she was at least slightly tipsy.

“Young Slavic women these days have no spirit! In my day, girls in Slavia hunted wild boars! We need new spiritual education to revive the dream of the great Slavic federation once more…”

She became more talkative than usual. And she started talking about Slavic spiritual theories that seemed out of character for a noble duchess, the daughter of a grand duke.

‘This is strangely… like an old-fashioned lecture…’

While Yuri is the guild leader, at Flame she was known for being a cool, communicative CEO with excellent reviews.

But if Flame’s employees saw Yuri like this, that reputation would probably vanish.

‘But I suppose it makes sense.’

Thinking about it, this drinking habit, and even her taste in food earlier, didn’t seem fitting for a noble duchess. It must be related to Yuri’s childhood that I know about.

‘Yuri really did hunt wild boars from a young age.’

Of course, not all Slavic girls are like that. Even among awakened ones, Yuri was a special case.

Then Yuri spread her arms wide and said:

“After I learned to hunt, I caught a wild boar this big. It was almost the size of a grizzly bear!”

She smiled proudly. If someone else had said this, I would have dismissed it as a Slavic joke, but Yuri’s words were true.

Yuri really did hunt from around the age of 8. Her father, Grand Duke Andrei, had her trained as a hunter.

‘It was a Tarkovsky family tradition, part of heir education.’

At 8 years old, even a blessed awakened one is still just a child. But Yuri spent her childhood in the harsh wilderness of northern Slavia, in the Siberian frontier.

‘It was certainly effective training for a hunter.’

But it must have been too harsh for a young girl. Moreover, Yuri lost her mother at a young age and never experienced parental affection.

“My nanny Anna taught me everything about hunting, from basics to advanced techniques. When I was 9, I cut a Siberian tiger’s throat with just a dagger, all thanks to Anna.”

It sounded like an impossible feat, but coming from Yuri, it was convincing. The current Yuri could probably turn 300 Siberian tigers into frozen tiger meat if they attacked her.

And her oddly lecture-like drinking habit seemed to be influenced by that nanny. Anna wasn’t from Slavia but was a former member of Spetsnaz, the Soviet special forces.

“Young Slavic women these days! Whether from the Russian Federation or the Slavic Kingdom, they’ve all gone soft. Saying salo smells bad and they don’t like it—isn’t that like a Korean saying they don’t like kimchi? Or makgeolli? Complete nonsense!”

Of course, there are certainly Koreans who don’t particularly like kimchi, but I silently let Yuri’s drunken rant pass.

‘Is this side of her something only I get to see?’

I heard that before the interns arrived, Flame held regular company dinners. The highlight was apparently a drinking contest between Yuri and Soso.

Both of them could drink strong liquor until bottles were rolling on the floor, but neither had ever appeared drunk.

Yuri finished the second bottle of vodka and took out a third. She finally quieted down after telling the tale of her first monster hunt at age 10.

It was quite endearing to see this silly side of Flame’s guild leader, known for her perfect work and skills, so different from her usual self.

Yuri glanced at me briefly, then quickly lowered her head.

She pulled her knees up and sat, holding the vodka bottle like a takeout coffee cup.

“Um… Minsu. You know…”

“What is it?”

“Do… do men dislike women who aren’t feminine like me?”

Belatedly, Yuri seemed to become concerned about her drunken remarks. With her free hand, she traced circles on the floor with her fingertip.

Yuri often did that when she wanted to say something but found it difficult to express.

I thought about the meaning for a moment, and seeing her tracing circles faster, I quickly answered:

“I think it depends on the person.”

I answered calmly. Of course, the usual Yuri is beautiful enough to be admired even by other women.

And this side of her—drunk and expounding on Slavic and Soviet ideology, boasting about childhood exploits—is probably something only I get to see.

I didn’t dislike this side of Yuri either.

“I-I see. I was thinking that someone I know might not like a woman like that. Just wondering, you know. Of course, I’m not talking about myself, just about that type of woman.”

“If there are feelings involved, I don’t think any particular style matters.”

“Really? Phew… that’s a relief.”

Though she was rambling a bit from the alcohol, Yuri was clearly conscious of me. She suddenly cut more salo, placed it on bread, and handed it to me.

“Minsu, winter salo tastes better. You should have the last piece.”

Yuri gave the salo a regretful look but smiled happily watching me eat it.

Finally, all the food was gone. Silence fell between us.

I turned up the mini heater a bit more. In the warmer, more languid atmosphere, Yuri finally spoke.

“It’s… cold in this shelter.”

Yuri made this nonsensical statement. Then, as if she had made up her mind about something, she took one last swig from the vodka bottle and abruptly moved to sit closer to me.

Yuri took my hand.

***

Yuri felt dizzy.

It wasn’t that any particular part of her body hurt. She was simply drunk.

Her body felt strangely hot and languid. Normally, Yuri’s abundant mana would have broken down all the alcohol.

But today was different. Actually, she deliberately didn’t break it down. She wanted to be drunk. Otherwise, she didn’t think she could spend this night alone with Minsu in her right mind.

‘I feel strange… good… but strange… my body is hot… weird…’

Now, through the hand she was firmly holding, Minsu’s body heat was transmitted to her. Her own body felt hot from the alcohol, but Minsu’s hand was much warmer.

That warmth also came from their bodies pressed close together. She felt like she might melt away. Even the ice-attribute mana that usually filled her.

Now it all seemed like it would turn to water and disappear.

If she really did inherit the blood of the snow woman from legend, she should avoid this warmth. But Yuri had no intention of letting go of his hand.

Giving Minsu the salo she made herself, boasting about her childhood exploits—these were Yuri’s awkward attempts at appealing to him, in her own way.

After all, she still liked Minsu.

Even now, drunk as she was, thinking back, it probably wasn’t the kind of behavior men would like, but Minsu said it was okay.

‘He said… if there are feelings involved…’

And Yuri briefly recalled that incident just before graduation at Eins Academy. After the graduation ceremony, Minsu said he had something to tell her.

Was that the same thing Yuri had wanted to tell Minsu?

And Yuri remembered the wrong she had done to Minsu during the Eins tragedy, the true feelings behind imprisoning him in the eternal barrier.

Certainly, her rationality, stimulated by the Doubt Demon, had reasonably suspected Minsu.

But her true heart, her real feelings, were different. Yuri didn’t want to be separated from Minsu.

At that time, Yuri was set to join her father Grand Duke Andrei’s Snow Knight Order back in her homeland, the Slavic Kingdom.

‘But Minsu…’

Despite his skills, Minsu couldn’t join the pureblooded Snow Knight Order as a foreigner. The White Magic Tower would have eagerly recruited him, but.

There was no reason for an outstanding talent like Minsu to join a research institution like the White Magic Tower. Korea’s top guild, Manseong, had already offered him a position in their elite team.

So they were destined to part ways. Yuri didn’t want that. She wanted to stay with him.

So Yuri decided. To stay with Minsu from then on. She knew how Grand Duke Andrei would react, but she didn’t care.

And she wanted to create a guild for him, not Manseong, but one where Minsu could soar the highest.

Immortal Butterfly’s Flame Scales. A guild named after Minsu’s flame spells—Yuri had actually registered it with the Association before graduation.

But then the Eins tragedy happened. The cold rationality she had learned from childhood imprisoned Minsu in the eternal barrier.

And even her emotions—the emotions that never wanted to part with Minsu—made her rationality even colder. She wanted to keep Minsu trapped in that barrier forever and make him hers.

‘Snow woman…’

That yokai blood that might flow in her veins. That blood might have cried out: if you love this man, make him yours by imprisoning him forever.

“Guild Leader?”

Yuri snapped back to reality at Minsu’s call. The inside of the shelter was freezing over.

She seemed to have unconsciously turned the shelter into a barrier. Yuri shook her head to clear her drunkenness.

“I-I’m sorry. I must be a bit drunk. My mana control…”

But her true feelings in her drunken state were different. Right now, the shelter was a place for just the two of them, where no one could interfere.

– Tempt him.

And Yuri heard that voice in her mind. She liked the word “temptation.”

Interlacing her fingers with Minsu’s, Yuri said:

“Minsu, I want to take a bath.”