I Won't Miss You. You Alone! (2)

Winterhome, the greenhouse.

(Though he didn't particularly mind) Corvus, forbidden from venturing outside the greenhouse, had a great many tasks waiting for him within its walls.

Maintenance of the interior facilities that any ordinary person could handle. Care of the various animals and plants growing inside, along with population control. Watering the plants, pulling weeds, and so on and so forth.

If anyone had forced that mountain of work on a single soul, even the Duke of Iceland would have been within ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his rights to rise up in protest—and no one could have argued otherwise. Yet Corvus felt not the slightest complaint.

He never had to worry about his next meal the way he once had in the wild. High-quality provisions arrived like clockwork, after all. And with a monster's overflowing stamina, nights without enough work would have left him tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

Shut away in the greenhouse all day, he had time to spare. Of everyone living in Winterhome, Corvus was the one who most hungered for a thoroughly satisfying daily routine.

Truly, a dog's life was the best life—except, of course, he was a monster rather than a dog.

Beyond that, he simply finished the duties his lord Alfred assigned him and occasionally received the guests who visited the greenhouse. Just like now.

Crash! Bang! Clatter!

"Hmm. That would be Lady Alicia."

Corvus, who had been pulling weeds, dusted off his claws at the distant racket and rose to his feet at once. He had already cleared roughly half the weeds from the plot where the Red Witch's Fingers were growing so plump and fine; a break seemed in order.

Once he finished tidying up, Corvus walked toward the source of the noise. Alicia, who had been tearing along at full tilt, skidded to a halt.

"Corvus! Alicia has arrived!"

"Good day to you, Lady Alicia. And we meet again, Mr. Karem."

Corvus scratched his beak. Alicia's disheveled appearance made it plain she had come running in a frantic hurry. Then there was Karem's awkward expression, and the way Alicia's hand was clamped tight around his. Nothing more needed to be said.

"Lady Alicia. Skipping your lessons again, I take it?"

"Huk! How did you know?"

"Well, just don't come back too late. Baroness Poppins will worry."

Since he was not, after all, in charge of Alicia's education, Corvus saw no reason to meddle further. He simply guided the two of them to his nest and invited them to sit at the table.

True to Alicia's prediction, the moment Karem stated his business Corvus launched into a thoroughly professional examination, peering this way and that with an air of expertise.

"Hmm. Yes. Oh-ho. These stripes…"

To Karem it was simply an uncommon bean—bright green with striking black edges. Corvus, however, clearly recognized something; he kept letting out fascinated little murmurs of appreciation.

He rolled the bean back and forth with a claw, black eyes gleaming.

"May I ask how you came by this?"

Just as with Alicia, Karem could not simply tell the truth. It was essentially an object handed over by a god; he could not even begin to imagine what would happen if he said so outright. Most people would simply decide he was out of his mind. Karem knew that much.

Still, he could not keep his mouth shut under that expectant gaze.

"I happened to obtain it while accompanying Lord Atanitas on a visit to the estate this time. Its appearance alone looked anything but ordinary, so…"

"Oh-ho. As expected of a chef—your eye is remarkably sharp."

Fortunately Corvus seemed uninterested in the finer details. He accepted the vague explanation and moved on.

"To think I would see one of these with my own eyes."

"Is it some kind of extraordinary bean?"

"Extraordinary? Oh, most certainly. It is an extraordinary item indeed."

"But how extraordinary can a bean really be?"

"Well, it is a crop that the Demon King's army completely wiped out when they destroyed the ancient Palatino Empire and set all of Europa ablaze—leaving only the scantest of records behind."

The scale of the conversation had suddenly ballooned. Unable to feel any sense of reality, Karem merely blinked and urged Corvus on.

"If records of it remain, it must have been something rather impressive, then?"

"Indeed. Fragments of records were recovered from the ruins of the Palatino Imperial Library, so it is certain the thing was far from ordinary."

Uh… is this actually something that enormous? Karem felt even less grounded in reality.

"So, Corvus—what does this strange bean actually do?"

Alicia, eyes sparkling with anticipation after the talk of ancient history and records, stared fixedly at the bean pinched in Corvus's claw tip.

"I have no idea."

Corvus opened his beak with perfect confidence.

The greater the expectation, the greater the crash of disappointment. Having built the atmosphere so high only to bring it down in a single stroke, Corvus found himself on the receiving end of two thoroughly flat stares from Karem and Alicia.

"But I truly do not know."

"No, after getting our hopes up like that?"

"Not only I—anyone you could bring from anywhere in Europa would be equally ignorant."

"That sounds a bit exaggerated."

"It is the truth. The surviving records never even gave it a name; only its appearance remained. And even that was preserved so perfectly that I could identify the real thing at a glance."

"You could have led with that, then."

Why drag it out so long? Karem vigorously agreed with Alicia.

"Because while life here is satisfying, it is rather short on stimulation. Caw! Caw! Caw!"

Corvus threw his head back and crowed with booming, belly-laugh delight. Karem and Alicia's gazes went from flat to completely frozen over, yet that only seemed to please him more; he kept crowing for quite some time.

When he finally stopped as abruptly as he had begun, the giant crow's face—hard as it was to read—wore an expression of unmistakable satisfaction. He brought out a snack: the same date-and-walnut rolls as before.

"But I am quite serious. There were mages who tried to research it, yet they all gave up quickly."

While Alicia began an angry binge, Corvus continued in a faintly defensive tone.

"After all, to study a plant you ultimately need a living specimen of that plant. How is one supposed to research something that is already completely extinct and can no longer be found anywhere in Europa?"

"For all that, you spoke rather specifically earlier."

"As I mentioned, if there had not been an illustration rendered so perfectly identical to the real thing, I myself would never have recognized it."

"It was that accurate?"

"If you are curious, I can show you."

"By all means."

Corvus rose from the table at once, disappeared into the storage hut attached to one side of the nest, and returned moments later with a large, thick hardbound volume. He set it down and opened the cover, which bore elegant calligraphy:

Without a word he flipped through the pages with a rapid fluttering sound. Roughly halfway through he stopped and pressed a claw tip firmly onto the page, then turned the book toward Karem and Alicia as if to say, look for yourselves.

"…Huh? You're telling me this is a drawing?"

Alicia looked back and forth between the illustration and Corvus. Karem felt exactly the same way.

The picture Corvus had indicated with his claw occupied a full quarter of the oversized page—an enlarged rendering of the bean. But if one were to call it a drawing more lifelike than an actual photograph, the conversation changed entirely. It was so real one half expected to be able to pluck it straight off the page. With something this accurate, failing to recognize it would have been the stranger outcome. In one corner of the illustration even a life-size comparison of the original bean had been drawn, as though the artist had magnified a real specimen.

That said, the claim about missing information was clearly true: unlike every other plant illustration, which carried at least brief annotations, this bean was labeled only "Name Unknown," and the description box was completely blank.

"Certainly hard to believe this is merely a picture."

"The main temple of the druid order that has compiled this encyclopedia for generations searches themselves hoarse for undiscovered or extinct plants like this bean every time a new edition is prepared. I hear they even use replication magic to copy the original illustrations."

Druids. Unlike in ancient times, the term now referred to a sub-class of mages who communed with the animals and plants of nature, tended them, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and borrowed their power. People like that would certainly be desperate for a plant such as this.

Still…

"Hmm. Handing it over still doesn't sit right with me."

"Caw? The reward money the temple pays out is said to be quite substantial."

"I am not particularly short of money."

As the saying went, too much of a good thing. Wealth one could not properly manage only invited disaster. As he had said before, Karem was not short of coin in the slightest. If anything, money only piled higher with the passage of time. What interested him far more was the curiosity of whether a bean received from a god might somehow be used in cooking.

Who knows? Maybe I can even make meju with it.

"Ah, Karem. That face."

"Is there something wrong with my face?"

"Right now your expression is exactly the same as when you're thinking something suspicious."

"Suspicious?"

"It's the same face you made when you were inventing that crazy-spicy, sour, yet somehow ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠savory cabbage pickle. I can show you."

Alicia immediately dug into the pocket of her dress, produced a sleek, elegant hand mirror, and held it out toward Karem. Just as the young lady claimed, the boy in the mirror wore a face full of eager anticipation.

"By the way, it isn't spicy cabbage pickle—it's kimchi."

"Kimchi. Hmm, the sound of it is no good. It's just cabbage pickle."

"Kimchi."

"Sauerkraut feels a little more familiar, honestly."

"Ugh. Anyway, Mr. Corvus."

If the name ended up fixed as "spicy pickle" or "sauerkraut," it would grate on him every single time he heard it—but that was not the purpose of today's visit. Karem decided to set the matter aside for later and shook his head.

"Would you be able to cultivate this bean for me?"

"Hmm. A bean about which nothing is known except its appearance—neither the season it sprouts nor the proper soil—this one?"

Corvus clacked his beak thoughtfully, then flicked a claw.

"Why not? Leave it to me."

"Wow, you're actually taking it on."

"I was just reaching the point where the Red Witch's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Finger hybridization work was starting to free up my hands. Perfect thing to raise in the spare time."

"Ah—the Red Witch's Finger hybridization is already that far along?"

How much time has even passed since then, and he's already talking about results?

"For the moment, until they grow a certain amount and before the flowers bloom, the work is nothing more than weeding and pest control, so I am not yet busy. Crops take time to grow, after all."

Corvus gently reined in Karem's eagerness.

"A fair point, Mr. Corvus. Much like how Lady Alicia needs ample time to finish today's studies."

"Studying has always taken a long time, though…? Hm?"

A stern, high-pressure woman's voice spoke from directly behind them. Before the sentence even finished, Karem watched Alicia startle like a rabbit that had just spotted a tiger.

"B-Baroness Poppins!"

"Indeed, Your Highness. I believe you already know what I am about to do?"

"Th-then just let me finish this!"

No sooner had Alicia stuffed the remaining snacks on the plate into her cheeks like a squirrel than a tall, slender middle-aged noblewoman stepped out from behind Karem, scooped Alicia up in one smooth motion, and turned her head toward him.

"Ah. Might you be Sir Karem, exclusive chef to the Supreme Magic Advisor?"

"'Sir'? That's far too grand for me."

"Then, Mr. Karem. Mr. Corvus. Forgive the intrusion."

The atmosphere admitted absolutely no room for objection. Baroness Poppins inclined her head slightly, then swept out of Corvus's nest with crisp, precise movements, the hem of her dress fluttering behind her.

Corvus watched the woman vanish like the wind. Once she was out of sight he turned his beak toward Karem.

"I have a few ordinary Red Witch's Fingers and some of the variant left after the harvest. Do you need them?"

"Oh, I'd gratefully accept them."

"I have not yet succeeded in isolating that savory flavor on its own. It is proving rather finicky."

"No rush. Take your time. Slowly."

Karem happily accepted Corvus's gift. Still, he felt a small pang of regret. Tomatoes still aren't ready yet, huh?