Chapter 68: Marquis’s Counterattack? (1)
Chapter 68: Marquis’s Counterattack? (1)
(68/225)
From the day the Doren Kingdom’s delegation arrived, soccer matches were held in the central plaza without a single day missed.
Humans and dwarves ran together, chasing the same ball, and before anyone realized it, a full week had slipped by. When the day of departure finally arrived, the plaza overflowed with people.
“Just when it feels like we finally got close, a week is far too short!”
“May our friendship last as long as the amount of banban-mumani we ate together…”
“I’ll never forget your comeback goal right before the match ended!”
The dwarves, who had grown close to Duke Layton’s knights through soccer, found the farewell after such a brief meeting almost unbearable.
As a parting gift, they presented the delegation with several hundred barrels of beer. All of it was carefully stored inside the food truck’s Subspace Storage.
“Human chef, thank you. We will truly miss you.”
“I’ll never forget the time I spent with all of you either.”
“Jinseo, thank you for spreading the civilization known as chicken to us!”
“I should be the one thanking you for teaching me about another possible chicken ingredient.”
“We’ll take good care of the soccer balls! We’ll coat them in Adatium so they never burst!”
“If Painfolt comes later to deliver ice-cream supplies, he’ll bring more then—so please don’t do that.”
Without intending to, Jinseo had ended up at the very center of the delegation. One dwarf after another came forward to express their gratitude.
Beer alone would have been enough for them, but Jinseo had gone further—providing side dishes perfectly suited to dwarf tastes.
{They drink beer like water. For such people, banban-mumani, a combination of fried chicken that delivers rich oil, spicy seasoned chicken that adds intensity, and pickled radish that refreshes the palate, is the optimal pairing.}
{Base preference value of the dwarf race for banban-mumani: 150.}
{When preference exceeds 50, special effects activate. Higher preference increases effect potency.}
{Activated effects: temporary increase to attack and defense; slight increase in probability of physical rank improvement; removal of hangovers; stress relief; increased happiness; increased beer consumption.}
{Warning: effects apply only to chicken made from cockatrice or basilisk meat.}
So that was it.
When he had served seasoned chicken before, the satisfaction bar hadn’t appeared because something had been missing. The pickled radish completed it.
Jinseo reread the banban-mumani description in the Status window.
Thanks to this, I cleared a quest and secured basilisk meat. This trip really paid off.
The dwarves didn’t stop at words. Out of the five hundred basilisk carcasses they had hunted for chicken, they gave Jinseo one hundred.
In return, Jinseo taught them the recipe for fried chicken so they could make it themselves. Since producing seasoned chicken sauce using only local ingredients was still impractical, he limited the instruction to fried chicken and left them with a large batch of premade sauce.
Pickled radish was included as well.
“Make way! Make way! The lord is coming!”
At Geshtain’s shout, the dwarves parted.
Wigenburg arrived personally to see the delegation off. He looked down at the plaza center where the teleportation magic circle had been installed, a soccer ball in his right hand and a hip flask resting at his waist.
“So… you really are leaving.”
His gaze lingered on the delegation.
“The week we spent together was meaningful for us dwarves. We were surprised to learn that humans understood our customs…”
He tapped Hayward lightly at the waist. Hayward had already returned to his usual rogue attire, having shed the ceremonial clothes from the first day.
“And through soccer, we learned that friendship can transcend race.”
Wigenburg lightly bounced the soccer ball off his head and caught it.
“Lastly, Jinseo, there are many things for which I am grateful. When I first tasted the miraculous combination called banban-mumani… that rapture still lingers on my tongue.”
Regret crossed his face.
“We will dispatch our own delegation soon. I look forward to that day.”
He extended a hand to Duke Layton, who had scored four goals in ten minutes during yesterday’s chaotic match before substituting himself out.
“I understand.”
“And do not worry about Elder Painfolt’s safety. No matter what, we will ensure he completes his work and returns unharmed.”
Painfolt stood among the dwarves rather than with the delegation. He had decided to remain on the Ashred Continent for a time to pursue magical research.
For someone who had struggled to find a mage specializing in spacetime magic, meeting Geshtain had been nothing short of providence.
The issue, however, was that his absence would leave the academy head’s position vacant.
“Show this letter to the other instructors.”
Painfolt handed Jinseo a sealed letter, his tone making it clear that this alone would resolve the matter. He glanced toward Julien.
After returning to the Doren Mage Tower on the Francia Continent, the delegation exchanged farewells and dispersed.
“Please convey my apologies to Oswald.”
Duke Layton boarded a carriage with his knights to report to the king. Though he had planned to remain at Falstead Castle for several days, a whispered report from an aide stationed on the continent made him change plans immediately. On the spot, he hired Craid and Hayward and departed.
“What? Me? Are you serious?”
“This was the academy head’s directive.”
“But I don’t have the qualifications.”
“It says here you were the direct disciple of the academy head’s younger brother.”
“That was a long time ago…”
“Come inside first. We’ll discuss this properly.”
Julien was dragged into the tower by the mages who had read Painfolt’s letter. He kept protesting while glancing back at Jinseo, but Jinseo—still not understanding what was happening—simply waved in encouragement.
“Jinseo! One Melona, please!”
“Five pork bars! And tell us before you leave next time!”
“Six ice juices! If we’d known the academy head was leaving, we would’ve stocked up!”
The mages, who had endured an entire week without ice cream, swarmed the food truck and forced Jinseo to reopen immediately.
After an hour of sales and complaints, Jinseo used instant movement to return to Falstead Castle, where the branch location was operating.
As he left, Julien waved desperately from a second-floor window. Jinseo waved back, mistaking it for a farewell.
“Boss! You’re back!”
Jason, vigorously stirring tteokbokki, spotted Jinseo and hurried over.
“Sales stayed steady while you were gone. I feel reassured knowing you were there.”
“Heh. It’s still tough without Aston, but I’m managing.”
Jason scratched the back of his head, embarrassed but visibly relaxed.
“Nero! And Owl! It’s been a while!”
“Nyaong!”
Nero tried to leap into Jason’s arms, only for Owl to swoop past his head instead. Nero narrowed his eyes and gave chase.
“Hey! Behave in front of customers!”
Jason stepped between them and ushered both spirits onto the table.
“If you were normal animals, you’d already be causing trouble. Boss always says taste matters—but hygiene matters just as much…”
“Nyaong…”
Strangely, Nero and Owl listened quietly.
They listen to Jason better than they ever listen to me, Jinseo thought. Was he a druid in a past life? No… a spirit tamer?
As he pondered this, Aston approached with a smile.
“With Nero and Owl back, the atmosphere really livens up.”
“I’m sorry for burdening you so often.”
“Not at all. Without this, when would I ever get to make bunsik?”
For Aston, managing the branch was the only time he could set aside his role as a knight-captain. Holding a ladle instead of a shield, serving food instead of wielding a sword—this time was precious to him.
“Still, just saying thank you doesn’t feel like enough. I brought a small gift. Please wait.”
Jinseo returned holding a sheathed sword.
“Go ahead. Draw it.”
The blade gleamed softly as Aston drew it. He froze, gripping the hilt.
“It was forged directly by a dwarf blacksmith. An Adatium sword.”
“Adatium… that Adatium?”
“Yes.”
Jason crept closer, eyes shining.
“So this is how Adatium looks…”
“And I have something for you too, Jason.”
“M-me?”
“I should warn you—it’s not a sword.”
Jinseo handed him a ladle.
“A ladle made by a dwarf blacksmith. Also Adatium.”
“A-Adatium… for a ladle?”
“I asked for something practical. They refused to make anything inferior.”
Jason stared at it, deeply moved.
“With this, I’ll make even better bunsik on business trips!”
“Business trips?”
“Oh, right—you didn’t hear.”
Aston smiled.
“I’ll explain. Jinseo received a traveling catering request. Through my father.”