Chapter 226. Childhood Friends – Egg Pudding!
“Wow, this is luxury,” chuckled a burly swordsman with thick eyebrows. He felt good after washing his face with warm water on a winter morning.
Ruben Bizan was gobbling down the lavish feast, feeling delighted to have followed his commander.
Ruben was one of the twenty young men Lev had carefully selected, a candidate to be the next great warrior of the Bizan tribe.
As the third son of the tribe’s chieftain, his words held weight, and the warriors seated at the table nodded in agreement with him.
“Don’t get cocky and just think about earning your keep,” retorted a female warrior, Ban Bizan, clumsily handling a fork.
“The commander said that if you don’t work hard, you’ll be kicked out of the sword corps. Ruben, you should be nervous.”
Laughter erupted. Ruben turned red and grumbled.
“You always have to… just wait. Once I get used to the sword, I’ll catch up in no time.”
“Catch up first, then talk.”
Ruben scratched his head in frustration.
Though he seemed angry and looked like he might slam the table with his thick arms, he refrained. Instead, he poured food into his mouth and grabbed Ban by the arm, pulling her along.
The slender warrior Ban followed without a word.
The other swordsmen in the corps didn’t try to stop them. They just waited eagerly for the dessert, which was…
Egg pudding!
For these young barbarians living in the mountains, far from civilization, it was a moment of tearful bliss. Some even cried as they took a bite of the soft pudding.
Don’t belittle the excitement over a mere pudding. Advanced cuisine is one of the greatest achievements of human civilization, and creating this pudding required painstaking research.
The main ingredient in egg pudding is eggs.
Few ingredients stimulate a chef’s creativity as much as eggs, due to their unique combination of whites and yolks, which yield vastly different textures depending on how they are cooked.
However, egg pudding does not require worrying about handling the whites and yolks separately. They are mixed together. But the question remains: how to cook it?
Eggs coagulate when cooked.
The texture depends on how and to what extent they coagulate. Salt, acid, high cooking temperatures, and protein concentration promote coagulation. In contrast, sugar, fat, low cooking temperatures, and low protein concentration inhibit coagulation.
Pudding should be smooth.
It’s better to inhibit coagulation, so sugar (sugar) and milk (fat) are added to the yellow egg mixture. Stir gently to avoid bubbles, strain the mixture to remove any strands, and it’s ready for cooking.
Cook slowly, using a gentle heat in a bain-marie (placing the dish in hot water to cook). This results in a smoother texture.
Once cooked, place it by the window to cool in the winter breeze, and a firm, sweet pudding is ready.
Add a layer of sweetened syrup on top, and even barbarians would become slaves to the chef’s art.
However, Lev’s disciples were different. Bound by an oath of absolute loyalty, they emerged from the mess hall, licking their lips.
“Burp – that was good.”
They headed to the training ground.
There, they found Ruben and Ban.
Already drenched in sweat from sparring, Ruben and Ban were recognized lovers in the Bizan tribe. Although there was no engagement tradition in the tribe, they were expected to marry in the future.
Ban Bizan advised Ruben, who hadn’t yet given up his habit of chopping with an axe.
“Use a thrust. If you just chop down, your trajectory is too predictable.”
“…Ugh, it’s not like I don’t know. It’s just a habit.”
“Then fix it,” Ban replied tersely. Ruben found her cool demeanor frustrating, but he obediently listened.
The hot-blooded man and the cool woman, along with the young barbarians newly wielding swords, immersed themselves in training. Around midday, their commander arrived at the training ground.
“Commander, how did it go?”
“As planned. Everyone, get ready. We’re moving out again,” Lev said, looking back at the lord’s castle.
The Marquis of Guidan was still hesitating. Despite awakening his wife and somewhat restoring his daughter’s sanity, he couldn’t decide to start a Rebellion to change the dynasty.
Lev didn’t push the marquis with the long earlobes. He still had much to prepare as well.
“In the summer, Prince Aeton de Lognum will attack Akine. That’s when they’ll start pressuring you in earnest. Delay as much as you can. Think of me as your insurance, and I’ll see you in Nevis in the summer,” Lev said, leaving the marquis some leeway. He had already thought of a way to light a fire under him.
Cesar.
Now, it’s time to find that bastard.
With a murderous glint in his eyes, Lev looked south. He estimated the man’s location using tracking skills, then turned his head in another direction.
‘Leah must have arrived by now,’ he thought, looking wistfully towards the northwest, where Rutetia and the central church were.
Lev gazed in that direction for a moment, then thought of Leo Dexter and Lena Einarr, who were likely further north. Unlike Leah, who had recently stopped moving, they had not yet moved.
‘Less than a year left now,’ he thought. However, the engagement scenario had already begun.
Leo Dexter must have started moving by the end of last year, aiming to become a Swordmaster and head to the battlefield. He would arrive in Rutetia this fall and stay until winter.
Lev had to reach Rutetia before Leo and Lena returned to Avril Castle. Calculating the dates, he then thought of Leanne and Leriana.
Due to his advice to take things slowly, the sibling beggars were still in Orville.
With no way to contact them since the mirror was broken, Lev guessed that Leanne was planning to leave when Bart returned to Noyar Port.
…They’ll figure it out.
Lev ended his thoughts. Ban brought over his horse, and taking the reins, he mounted it swiftly.
Looking up at Harriet, who stared blankly at the training ground from a high window, Lev urged his horse forward.
Thud thud thud thud.
Though his sturdy relatives followed, Lev felt like he was running away.
* * *
A sizable group was hiding in the foothills with a view of the southwestern coast.
A line of square wagons, without a single window, were guarded by about four hundred men…
It wasn’t a merchant caravan.
The walls of the wagons were too thick for that. Droppings fell from underneath the wagons, and faint cries could be heard from inside. The attire of those surrounding the wagons was also not that of mercenaries or merchants.
They had fresh tattoos of a skewer.
These were thugs from the Dorf family, out on an expedition to capture slaves.
Among them, Cesar confronted a thug who seemed to be of captain rank.
“Why are those wagons the only clean ones?”
“What? Why?”
“Why are those wagons meticulously cleaned? I noticed you’ve only put the pretty ones in there. Didn’t I tell you not to touch the merchandise?”
The thug spat on the ground.
“Ah, shit. You’re making a fuss over nothing. Can’t you see the boys are having a hard time? Using some of them boosts morale.”
“Boost morale my ass. Go to your wives for that. Are you planning to ruin the business again?”
“We’ve set aside the prettiest ones separately, so it’s fine. But this bastard…”
“I can’t work like this. Last time, you ruined all the merchandise, and I didn’t get a single penny.”
“Then get lost.”
“What?”
“I said, get lost. We don’t need you. I’ve been wondering, why do we need a guide when the map shows everything? Thanks for guiding us so far. Should I cut off one of your arms as a token of appreciation?”
“You little shit…”
“Wait! Why are you two fighting again? We’re comrades.”
As the big thug and Cesar were about to clash, a sly-looking thug intervened. He turned the captain-level thug away with a friendly smile.
“Hey, if you can’t manage the kids this time, the boss won’t let it slide. It won’t just end with a kick to the shin.”
“I know. But what can I do? All the kids are losing their minds. Should I guard the wagons all night?”
“If you don’t want to lose your head, you better guard them. Lock them up or send a few away. If we don’t make money this time, we’re really dead.”
“Tch!” Clicking his tongue, the thug left. The sly one then turned to Cesar, trying to soothe the angry guide with practiced flattery.
“I’m sorry. I’ve talked it over with him. But we really need to use a few of the goods. If not, the kids might cause even bigger trouble. Think of it as a transportation fee and let a few go.”
“…Don’t you know women are three times more expensive than men?”
“Come on, only the fresh ones are that pricey. I promise we’ll only use the older ones.”
Cesar grumbled but reluctantly agreed. Doing business with these brutish thugs required knowing when to let go of his greed.
“But Cesar, why do you want to attack tomorrow? The map says the, uh, what’s it called, the Norang tribe has their gathering at the beginning of the month…”
The thug pointed to the barbarian village by the distant seaside. Cesar lied without batting an eye.
“They moved it up this time. The gathering will be today. By tomorrow morning, they’ll all be hungover. That’s when we’ll catch them.”
“Oh, I see. Thanks to you, we should have a good haul this time…”
Oops. The thug quickly shut his mouth, but Cesar was already glaring at him with fury.
The barbarian tribe from the southern swamp captured last year had also been quite large. Thanks to Cesar’s long-term observation, the timing of the hunt had been perfect, and the harvest was substantial, but these idiots had ruined it all.
As Cesar was about to start scolding, about thirty horses charged from afar.
“Slave hunters! Clear them out!”
“What, what… a, a knight?”
In this world, anyone riding a horse and wielding a hard-to-find longsword was almost certainly a knight. The captain-level thug quickly stepped forward and pulled out a document.
“Wait! Knights, please wait a moment! We have authorization! Here’s the signature from Count Amus…! Huh? What, they’re not knights?!”
There was no sign of any affiliation with the knights, and from the way they wielded their swords, it was clear they weren’t knights. The thug shouted in panic.
“Kill them all! How dare these nobodies pretend to be knights?!”
“C, Captain! Over there…!”
We’re nearly four hundred strong. The captain-level thug, momentarily daunted, lost his will to fight.
The sound of a conch shell.
The Norangd tribe’s barbarians were advancing with conch shells made from sea snail shells. Like a tidal wave, they crashed over the thugs, making the outcome of the battle a foregone conclusion. As Lev’s newly formed sword squad faced their first real combat, Lev sought out Cesar.
Cesar quickly knelt and shouted.
“I-I’m… oh my god! Thank you! I’m a merchant. I was captured by these vile slave hunters. Please, don’t spare those bastards!”
“Stop the nonsense. You look too clean for someone who’s been captured. You must be part of the same gang.”
Lev was willing to listen to him. Amidst the sea of blood, he kept his sword pointed at Cesar to ensure that no one else could interfere.
“N-No, I was only captured recently! Ah! Chief! Chief! I’m over here!”
“Oh, Cesar! Long time no see. What are you doing here?”
The female chief of the Norangd tribe waved happily at Cesar.
“I was captured by these guys on the way here. I was trying to warn you about their plan to attack the Norangd tribe… I’m so relieved to see you, Chief.”
“Haha! Even if they had tried to attack our village, we could have repelled them easily. But thank you. Lev Bizan, I also thank you for the warning. It’s my first time working with the Bizan tribe. Shall we have a drink? It’s a gathering day today, so there’s plenty of alcohol.”
“Do you know this man?”
“Yes, he’s a merchant who often visits our village. It’s been more than ten years. Since he’s my friend, you can put away your sword.”
“Hmm… Is that so? I’m sorry. Are you injured anywhere?”
Lev sheathed his sword.
He smiled warmly as he helped Cesar up, but his eyes remained cold and indifferent.
He’s the one who made me kill my own sister. Lev had no intention of killing him gently.
