Chapter 59
Chapter 59
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Monster Dismantling Yard
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Staying up all night to digest my midnight snack and brainstorm solutions to the shocking state of our food supplies, I barely managed two hours of sleep.
My arms and legs felt like limp noodles from exhaustion, but I still had to get up.
‘Dad’s been way too busy lately.’
Thanks to him taking on the banquet security detail, it had been a full four days since I’d even caught a glimpse of his face.
Dad rushed out of the castle at dawn’s first light. He said he was busy inspecting the military camps near Kalena, the heart of the duchy.
So I had no choice but to get moving at the crack of dawn too.
I couldn’t handle the food contract snag on my own, so I needed to clue Dad in first, right?
“Oh? Good morning, young miss!”
“Morning, Sir Walter. Where’s Dad?”
“Did you come to see your father?”
Even though I’d gotten up as early as possible, Dad’s office was already buzzing with activity.
His adjutant, Walter—just the first person I ran into at the door—was clutching a thick stack of documents.
They say every war drags on longer in the aftermath than in the fighting itself.
“Your father isn’t in his office.”
“Out again?”
“That’s this afternoon. Right now, he’s probably at the monster dismantling yard.”
“Monster dismantling yard?”
“Yes. That marquis from the south... he’s been hounding us nonstop to hand over the monster byproducts ASAP, so we decided to knock that out first.”
There was only one marquis from the south.
Walter burst into hearty laughter when I tilted my head, not yet connecting Marquis Schleman to the monster byproducts.
He handed his stack of papers to a passing knight, then scooped me up effortlessly in one arm.
“Come with me and see for yourself.”
“Ung.”
As we walked away from the annex, he explained in a gentle murmur.
“You know how the North hunts tons of monsters and sells the byproducts outside for profit, right?”
I nodded. I’d heard that before.
“When the south sells us food, we trade them iron ore and the blood of a monster called Vespa.”
“Vespa?”
“Yeah. They’re flying swarm-type monsters. Dilute their blood and spray it on fields—it drives off crop pests. Huge demand down south.”
Like natural pesticide, then.
Thanks to Walter’s long legs and wide strides, we reached the dismantling yard in no time.
A thin layer of white steam blanketed the entire yard.
The heat from boiling water shrouded everything, making the workers dismantling elephant-sized monster carcasses look hazy as they swarmed over them.
‘So that’s a Vespa.’
The creatures called Vespa looked like giant hornets.
The only difference? Gray bodies banded with glossy crimson stripes.
The biggest ones were elephant-sized, and even the smaller ones were as hefty as cows or pigs.
A knight in full armor perched atop an elephant-sized Vespa, hacking down with his sword.
“That’s Sir Kira over there.”
“Yes. Vespa hides are so tough that knights handle the initial disassembly, then the byproduct managers take over.”
Even among the burly northern knights, Dad stood out tall and striking, making him easy to spot.
He was standing by a smaller specimen already half-dismantled. When he saw me nestled in Walter’s arms, he scowled.
“Put my daughter down.”
“But, Commander, it’s monster dismantling in here. Too dangerous to set a little lady on the filthy floor alone. We’re using boiling water—if she got hurt...”
Walter had a point, but...
Problem solved.
I stretched both arms out toward Dad from midair.
Dad’s eyes widened like he’d just unwrapped an unexpected gift, then he grinned ear to ear and pulled me into his arms.
Definitely comfier than Walter’s hold. Bias because he’s my dad?
“Makes me jealous... Guess I need to get married myself.”
“No one’s handing out an Ella like this.”
Stop it, you two!
Overhearing Dad’s blatant daughter-brag right in my face was mortifying. I could feel my cheeks burning.
To change the subject, I pointed at the massive glass jars collecting Vespa blood in front of us.
“Wha’s dat?”
“We sterilize the jars clean, fill them with monster blood, and ship to the south.”
No sooner had Dad finished explaining than the manager started sealing the jars tight.
Once sealed, other managers brought over more jars that had just been sterilizing in boiling water.
Vespa blood was as red as human blood.
Bit weird thinking it while staring at monster blood, but they looked just like jars of stored tomato sauce.
Wait.
‘Jars for storing sauce...!’
My eyes shot wide like I’d been struck by lightning.
The North’s chronic food woes stemmed not just from barren land, but from food not keeping like regular goods.
Ingredients spoiled fast.
‘That’s why Grandpa has to kowtow to the south despite holding them in check.’
Miss one harvest’s supplies, and commoners would drop like flies. Soldiers even more so.
What if we extended food shelf life?
Canning wasn’t as tasty as fresh, but storage? Revolutionary.
Nobles were picky about flavor and preferred fresh.
But for poor commoners, food was survival, not gourmet.
‘No matter what blows up, we’ve got to hold out till Grandpa finds another way.’
I pressed a hand to my pounding chest.
First, confirm if this world even had canning.
“Dad catch dese in war?”
I pointed at the Vespa. Walter beat Dad to the answer.
“Yep. Horrific battle just thinking back. The big ones swarm twenty strong around their queen.”
“Swarms?”
“Got separated from the main force after a Vespa attack... Whew, nightmare.”
I subtly steered the talk where I wanted.
“Den how eat? Vespa meat?”
“Too venomous. Had to peel bark and tough it out five days.”
“No tomatoes?”
“Aw, our young miss loves tomatoes, huh.”
Walter’s lips curved in a soft smile, figuring it was an innocent kid question.
“War zones? Hard to get that stuff. Just hardtack biscuits, jerky, and dried fruit in our packs.”
“So hungry...”
“Pretty much.”
“Mariella hates war...”
Walter and Dad chuckled softly at my words.
While they doted, I sorted the info in my head.
No canning in this world.
‘Eureka!’
I grinned to myself, plotting to tell Grandpa, when an unwelcome voice slithered in.
Sticky, like it clung right to my eardrums.
“Well, now.”
I turned. There stood Marquis Schleman with my uncle.
The marquis, trailed by a train of attendants like he was on parade since morning, pinched his nose with a handkerchief in mock disgust.
“And these are the North’s vaunted knights? No better than dung flies swarming a corpse.”
What did he just say?
Marquis Schleman’s voice rang out bold as brass.
Even I, Dad, and the other knights took a beat to process it.
No one expected a marquis selling food to the North to hurl “dung flies”—an insult at the elite knights propping up the North.
The first to snap was a young knight slicing into a Vespa’s back.
“Dung flies? You calling us that?”
“What...!”
“Nah, no way a fine marquis said that. Must be some fly larva whining.”
“You lot...!”
“Noisy flies? Just smash ’em. Right, seniors?”
Dad’s knights were hot-tempered.
Proved last time when they brawled with the gate guards blocking the estate, spewing curses without hesitation.
Fresh from victory, blood boiling—these knights weren’t sitting quiet for a “corpse maggot” jab.
One gripped his dripping sword and leaped down.