A Journey, Part 2
Crunch!
"...!"
Every cell in his body was going wild.
The crispy crunch of the fried chicken, the rich oil, and the fantastic blend of seasonings created a perfect harmony.
If humans were beings whose souls could easily detach from their bodies, his soul would have shot straight out of his head right then and there.
A violent shiver ran down his spine.
Jeron, who still remembered this taste, was merely deeply moved. But for those born and raised in this primitive medieval world, it was a succession of pure, unadulterated shocks.
Even Dame Layla, who rarely showed any emotion, had her eyes wide open as she fiercely battled the other knights for her share of the food.
And what of Sir Birken, who prided himself on having tasted all kinds of delicacies during his long career as a merchant?
"E-every single dish I have ever eaten in my life is on the verge of being reduced to mere garbage before this sacred chicken!"
It was the ultimate praise.
It wasn't from a professional franchise, nor was it coated in any intense sauce, but the savory flavor filling their mouths made them feel as if a missing piece of their souls had finally clicked into place.
Tears welled up in the corners of Jeron's eyes.
To think the day would come when I'd taste this on the Karen Continent!
All the hardships he had endured on Earth felt entirely worth it.
Crunch! Crunch!
Jeron moved his hands and mouth in a frenzy.
No one was in their right mind.
Drunk on the sublime taste of the chicken, they stuffed their faces, nearly letting out groans of ecstasy.
A wild storm had swept through.
Silence fell over the camp. Having lived their lives with taste buds that had long given up on the concept of flavor, the sudden awakening of their sensory cells left them wearing dazed expressions.
Dame Layla was the first to snap out of it. She cried out,
"Revere the Lord! He has bestowed a taste of the heavens upon humble wretches like us!"
"Oooooh!"
The soldiers raised their weapons in unison.
They looked like nothing short of bloodthirsty berserkers.
Is fried chicken some kind of ultimate weapon?
It was an absurd, crazy thought.
If he gave them fried chicken before a battle, would they charge into the fray in a state of absolute frenzy?
But looking at their reactions now, it seemed entirely possible.
Unless the chicken was laced with drugs, it wouldn't physically enhance their abilities. However, the human mind had a far greater influence on the body than most realized.
"Loyalty to the Lord!"
"To grant heavenly food to lowly ones like us... our gratitude knows no bounds!"
The knights were no different.
Their phrasing was slightly more refined, but the way their wild excitement transformed into fierce loyalty was exactly the same.
And what of the merchant leader, Birken?
"I-if a restaurant specializing in this were to appear, it would cause a sensation across the entire continent."
"Is it really that good?"
"The mere thought of going back to eating tasteless rye bread tomorrow makes me feel like I won't be able to sleep tonight."
It was a simple, yet telling review.
A fried chicken joint, huh?
Fried chicken shops were a staple of alternate history novels.
However, there was a fundamental flaw in that trope.
Cooking oil was only abundant on modern Earth. Going back to ancient or medieval times, even seeing fried food was a rarity.
When people were struggling just to feed themselves, who would waste crops to press them for oil?
It was an act that directly defied the economic realities of the era.
If I could secure rapeseed, I could produce oil on a large scale, but that's impossible for now.
Of course, while he didn't know when it would be, he didn't completely rule out the possibility.
"We don't have enough oil to make and sell this commercially. A single bottle of the oil used for the food you just ate would cost more than several sacks of wheat."
"Ah, is it truly that expensive?"
"Perhaps even more."
"That is deeply regrettable. If a specialized restaurant were to open, we would rake in money by the shovel."
"Is anything in this world ever easy?"
"That is true, my Lord."
Even for Jeron, who was literally farming resources between Earth and the Karen Continent, bringing about dramatic industrial changes in a short period was impossible.
To secure enough oil to start a fried chicken business on the Karen Continent, he would need to cultivate the right crops, install pressing machinery, and reach a level of self-sufficiency in flour production.
Breeding chickens suitable for frying was another hurdle. In an era with terrible distribution networks, they would have to raise the chickens directly at the restaurant, making it nearly impossible to meet demand.
There were many mountains to cross.
It was an era where even opening a seemingly simple chicken shop required an immense amount of foundational effort.
After the frantic feast subsided, Jeron called the Carbain family to his table.
The entire Carbain family had now become vassals of the Ferrow family.
While it was still too early to address Celia as "Sir" or "Dame," she too could earn the title depending on her future contributions to the territory.
Jeron brought out a whole chicken he had kept hidden and uncorked a bottle of wine he had brought from Earth.
"Wow, you're the best, Lord Jeron!"
Celia gave him a big thumbs-up.
Dame Layla immediately scolded her.
"How dare you show such insolence to the Lord? Is that how I raised you?"
"Oh, come on, sister. Don't be so stiff. Didn't you praise the Lord earlier for being so flexible and open-minded?"
"W-when did I ever say that?!"
Dame Layla's face flushed red as she denied it, looking surprisingly cute.
To think the woman known as the cold-hearted witch had such a side to her.
Jeron stepped in to soothe Layla.
"It is fine. As she said, I am not a rigid man."
"See, Lord Jeron? A lord who personally cooks for his soldiers could never be stiff."
Celia was once again reminding everyone of the profound impact Jeron's actions had on the soldiers.
A lord who personally cooked for his troops was likely unprecedented in history.
By the standards of this era, it was a shocking act that defied all common sense.
Furthermore, when the food was delicious enough to belong on a goddess's table, the emotional impact was multiplied tenfold.
Celia has a natural political instinct.
With a smile, she subtly highlighted Jeron's benevolence, fostering deeper loyalty among the ranks.
Each of the three siblings possessed distinct strengths. Having the Carbain family bound to the Ferrow family was a massive stroke of good fortune.
"Since we are on a journey, we cannot drink to excess, but a single bottle of wine should be fine."
Glug, glug.
A sweet aroma wafted through the air.
It was cheap wine, but a sweetness like this was impossible to find in this world.
"We are deeply honored."
"I am unworthy to receive a cup from your hand, my Lord."
"Whoa! What on earth is this?"
Jeron tore off a chicken leg and savored the sweet wine.
Back when he lived on Earth, he would have used such cheap wine only for cooking. But having lived without sweetness for so long, even this tasted like nectar.
The chirping of insects filled the night.
The cool, gentle breeze of the evening and even the smell of the smoke lit to ward off insects felt comforting and familiar.
The campfire crackled softly.
With delicious food and sweet wine added to the mix, the atmosphere was incredibly cozy.
I'm enjoying a luxury here that I never could have on Earth.
He felt that this was what a true journey was all about.
After a few glasses of wine, Jeron naturally began to let his guard down.
"Sir Birken, why did you become a merchant? If your family had fallen to that extent, you could have chosen a different path."
"That is..."
Sir Birken paused, seemingly lost in thought. He hadn't expected such a question.
Clearing his throat, Birken replied,
"Because farming alone could never lift us out of poverty."
"There must have been a turning point."
"I do not know if you remember the Great Famine, my Lord."
"I remember. It was a terrible famine. Thousands perished."
It had happened during Jeron's childhood.
For several years, poor harvests plagued not only their territory but the entire kingdom.
Just as the drought was finally breaking, a plague of locusts descended, devouring every last crop meant for harvest.
The streets were littered with the bodies of those who had starved, and wails of grief echoed throughout the land.
Even the ruling Ferrow family had to ration their food due to the severe shortage.
"During that famine, we lost our wet nurse and maids. Our merchant group collapsed, and our parents went missing in the mountains while searching for food. These two almost died back then as well."
As the mood turned somber, Jeron refilled their glasses.
Birken took a sip of wine to wet his throat before continuing.
"The famine eventually passed, and the territory began to recover, but our family's poverty remained. It was then I realized that farming alone would never change our fate. Only after rebuilding the merchant group and starting trade did our situation gradually improve. Though the famine had devastated our business, our family's connections and clients remained intact, allowing us to scrape by."
"An admirable decision. With such unyielding resolve, you rebuilt the merchant group and raised your siblings so well."
"I do not believe it is worthy of such praise, my Lord. There are many far more remarkable people in the territory than I."
"You are quite humble. You seem to place great value on commerce. What kind of changes do you think will occur in the territory if I actively promote trade?"
"It will bring wealth, my Lord."
"Wealth, indeed."
"Is it not only logical to align oneself with power to gain power, and to ride the flow of wealth to gain wealth?"
"...!"
Jeron was genuinely surprised by Birken's insight.
To think someone in this era could think like this.
Birken believed that riding the flow of capital was the key to accumulating wealth.
This was not a common mindset for someone living in a medieval society. People of this era tended to be extremely insular and conservative.
Reading the flow of money and riding the tide of the times was a concept that even many modern people struggled to grasp.
Seeing Jeron's surprised expression, Birken immediately dropped to his knees and bowed his head.
"Forgive me, my Lord! I have spoken out of turn and made a fool of myself."
"No, rise. I was merely surprised. It seems my judgment of character was correct. With your vision, you will surely amass great wealth."
"Rather than my own meager abilities, it is your Lordship's wisdom in recognizing and employing me that is truly immeasurable."
Jeron smiled faintly.
Aside from his outstanding capabilities, Birken's talent for flattery would serve him very well in this world.
"As you said, commerce is the means to revitalize a territory. However, the lords of this era tend to look down on trade. They hold the absurd notion that commerce only enriches other territories using their own local specialties. That is why they set up countless toll gates."
"But you, my Lord, can neutralize those toll gates with your trading rights."
"No, that is still a work in progress. And that is why Celia's role is so crucial."
"Huh?"
Even during their conversation, Celia had been busily devouring the chicken.
With grease glistening around her mouth, she seemed completely addicted, unable to stop her hands.
"Good heavens, girl. Must you behave like this?"
"Hehehe, I was listening! Don't worry about the capital."
Jeron raised his hand, stopping the siblings from nagging her further.
"Keep this in mind. Two percent of the total profits will be allocated to your family. Stand by my side, and you shall enjoy both wealth and honor."
"This humble servant desires nothing more than to serve you with absolute loyalty, my Lord."
Jeron's first rule of human relations:
All relationships begin with mutual benefit.