Chapter 5
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: The Old Lord's Incurable Disease (4)
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'In a place like this, going on about nutrients and whatnot just won't fly. There's no upside to spouting words they can't even comprehend.'
Dominic had no intention of droning on about his professional knowledge from the outset.
Instead, what he pulled out was the concept of 'constitution'—a kind of pseudo-science.
For Dominic, who needed to sort out what the Old Lord should avoid eating from what he should eat, there was no simpler way to explain it. And it was something the people of this world could readily accept.
"Ingredients suited to one's constitution? You're saying something like that really exists?"
"Of course. Now, Knight, don't you feel certain energies within the mana you train with every day?"
"Naturally. There are the energies of the five elements that make up mana."
"But doesn't each knight have a particular energy that resonates with them more than the others?"
"Well..."
The blond knight, Ian Hanover, nodded in agreement.
The young village chief was spot on.
Those who could wield mana often felt a special affinity for one particular energy. Mages or warriors who had reached a certain realm could manifest even greater power when channeling that familiar energy outward.
"If mana follows constitutions, then it only makes sense that ingredients grown absorbing the world's mana would have varying effects based on one's constitution, right?"
"Hmm. There's logic to that."
Dominic smirked inwardly upon seeing Ian's previously wary gaze soften. Just moments ago, the knight had regarded him as little more than a bothersome wart.
"I thought you were just some quack, but you can talk pretty sophisticated talk. So, you're saying you'll pick out ingredients that don't suit the Old Lord's constitution from now on?"
"Exactly, Head Cook. You catch on quick."
The head cook nodded knowingly, as if he'd grasped it immediately.
"I've heard that the Old Lord was a knight who reached impressive heights in his youth—is that right?"
"Of course. He even served as captain of the imperial guard."
"Impressive indeed. But now that he's retired, his training volume must have dropped compared to back then, yes?"
"He still does personal training, but it's hard to compare to his active days. The regimen of an active knight is beyond imagination."
Ian's wariness had clearly eased; he was now answering Dominic's questions with genuine care. Of course, this was possible only because Dominic was asking about information widely known among those who worked in the lord's castle—hardly a secret.
"What about his meal portions? Even if training has decreased, he wouldn't have halved his intake."
This time, Dominic directed the question at the head cook.
"I wouldn't know exactly how much he ate in his youth, but from what the butler—who's served him since the capital—says, your guess seems right. His portions haven't changed much. That's probably why he's put on a bit of weight lately."
"He's gained weight? How much?"
"Beats me. But tailors came by recently to measure him for new clothes—all brand new, from what I heard."
"Hmm, sounds like his build has changed quite a bit. So, how much does he typically eat per meal?"
"About one and a half times what a normal person eats."
"Definitely a big eater. And meat at every meal?"
"He loves it that much. On days without meat, there's at least fish. Otherwise, he always asks for snacks."
Dominic glanced at Ian as if seeking confirmation.
Ian nodded and added,
"Lately, when he's not feeling well, he deliberately eats even more meat."
"Pardon? He eats more on purpose?"
The head cook looked at the astonished Dominic as if to say, what's so surprising about the obvious? and elaborated.
"When you're sick, you eat meat or fish to build strength and fight off the illness. That's just common sense. You're not actually clueless, are you... you quack?"
"I'm not."
"Good, then. Tsk."
Putting it all together, the situation was pretty dire.
'He's basically been holding a ritual to summon gout.'
The Old Lord's love for meat was infamous throughout the territory. It was surely a habit carried over from his youth. And according to the head cook, he was also a heavy drinker.
Back in his prime, his knightly activities demanded massive energy expenditure, and as a mana user, his digestion was far superior to a commoner's— so no issues until now.
'But retirement changed his lifestyle, and that's the root of the problem.'
After retiring and returning to his hometown, his exercise plummeted, but his eating habits stayed the same out of inertia. With more leisure time, his drinking only increased.
His body, never reaching sword master level, aged steadily. Unable to escape time's march, things that once posed no problem began breaking down one by one.
'Then one day, the pain hit.'
If he'd corrected his diet at the first gout attack, it might have been fine.
But this world's common sense—'Eat well and rest when sick'—only made it worse.
'Even then, if he'd eaten less and moved more...'
Water under the bridge.
Still, Dominic figured that revamping the diet from now on, plus a few holy power baths, should do the trick.
Unlike his previous life, this world had underdeveloped medicine but offered holy and healing powers. They weren't miracle cures, though—without fixing root habits, a priest's help was just temporary pain relief for a few days.
So, back to diet!
"Alright. Starting today, all red meat, blue-backed fish, shellfish, and alcohol are off the Old Lord's table."
"What? No way! Then what do we serve? The Old Lord won't stand for it! You trying to get someone killed, you quack?!"
The head cook foamed at the mouth the moment Dominic spoke.
"I'll take full responsibility. If he gets angry, blame me entirely."
"...Well, if you're sure... No, kid, value your life! You've got your whole future ahead—why risk his wrath?"
"I'm not trying to anger him. If his condition really is gout, these ingredients are like poison."
"Poison? Meat and fish?"
"Precisely red meat, organ meats, and blue-backed fish."
In truth, white meat and white fish were best avoided too, but for a meat lover, banning everything cold turkey would likely backfire with rebound overeating.
'So, keep the lesser evils for now.'
As a knight who'd reached mid-level sword expert, he should have some natural self-healing, Dominic trusted.
"Chicken, white fish, and eggs are okay in moderation—half the current amount."
"Lord have mercy, cutting portions too?"
"To shed the extra weight."
"Hah. If hell breaks loose, don't say I didn't warn you."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it."
Dominic began instructing the head cook—who eyed him skeptically—on specific recipes.
The blond knight Ian watched from a distance.
'What exactly is he up to...?'
The young village chief seemed servile yet oddly confident; he acted intimidated but also utterly indifferent, like a broom in the corner.
Ian upgraded his assessment from 'annoying burden' to 'annoying but peculiar guy.'
Oblivious to this, Dominic busied himself sharing his planned menu with the head cook.
Dinner was the highlight of the Old Lord's day.
Juicy meat dripping with juices, fiery whiskey scorching the throat, shellfish or shrimp to cleanse the palate, and occasionally grilled organs as a delicacy.
"...And this is supposed to be my dinner?"
But tonight's table felt utterly alien.
"Oh my! What lovely colors, Father!"
The current Countess Sinclair, the Old Lord's daughter-in-law, clapped in delight.
Indeed, unlike the usual ruddy reds dominating his dinners, the vibrant array of fresh, natural ingredients looked quite appealing.
'Better try it first.'
Half-doubting, the Old Lord had ordered this obscure twenty-something village chief—neither healer, pharmacist, nor chef—to handle his meals.
He hadn't held high hopes, truthfully.
The kid had nailed his symptoms, sure, but after decades of life and experience, he doubted mere food changes could cure what even high temple priests couldn't.
"...Hm! No wine."
The clear red beverage was more refreshing than his usual wine—and not alcohol.
"Pomegranate juice, I think?"
"I agree. The tartness whets the appetite. What do you think, Father?"
His son and daughter-in-law, who rarely drank, seemed to love the pomegranate juice.
Overcoming his wine betrayal, the Old Lord sipped again.
'Balanced acidity, seasonal fruit sweetness... and a subtle bitter finish. A complex evolution like fine wine.'
The well-balanced pomegranate juice opened the meal on a satisfying note.
"And this?"
He pointed next to a pale green soup.
"Finely chopped mushrooms, asparagus, and broccoli sautéed in olive oil, then simmered with fresh milk and cream. Give it a try."
As Dominic explained, a spoonful of creamy pale green soup entered the Old Lord's mouth.
'Hm!'
His eyebrows twitched.
A nutty savoriness filled his mouth. And this smooth, rich texture!
Despite veggies as the base, it outdid even clam chowder in depth.
"The main is cod steak, infused with five herbs for aroma."
After some colorful veggie salad alongside the soup, the head cook timely brought the main course.
A thick, perfectly grilled cod steak was flanked by roasted seasonal veggies and mashed potatoes for visual flair.
Crisp—
The high-heat seared skin crackled like fritter in his mouth.
The moist, tender flesh melted effortlessly, sliding down without chewing.
Rosemary, dill, basil, thyme, and quality black pepper harmonized subtly, leaving a fresh, alluring scent even after the fish vanished, delighting his nose.
"Mm—."
The Old Lord's fork paused only after polishing off the fruit dessert.
Dominic could read the satisfaction on his face but sweated anyway—powerful men were unpredictable.
"Quite a satisfying meal."
No twists.
The Old Lord savored fullness without indigestion for the first time in ages. A pleased smile bloomed.
Dominic exhaled in relief.
'Made it.'
Good call backing off full vegan.
"But!"
Dominic's face crumpled.
The real kicker always followed 'but'.
"I can't tell yet if it'll cure my illness. Ian!"
"Yes, my lord!"
"Can't have our guest lost in the vast castle overnight. Station soldiers to ensure he doesn't step foot outside his room."
"Yes, sir!"
Ah, damn.
House arrest again.