Chapter 105

“Ah, Routa! Got one! Don’t let it get away!” “Arwf! (You got it!)” I give a forceful swing of my tail, and a river crab about the size of a child’s palm catapults up onto the shore. “Great, that’s the stuff!” The old man immediately grabs the crab and throws it into one of the buckets he brought. “Just like I thought—you really do have a knack for fishing.” Thank you muchly. Anyway, are you sure you can call this fishing? I’m hanging my bushy tail on the surface of the water, right in the middle of the river, and waggling it around. Eventually small crabs hiding below the rocks grab on to it with their claws. And then I just pull them out really quick. That’s all—but we’ve gotten quite a haul. The old man’s bucket is already almost full. “They’re easy to reach now the water level’s gone down.” The old man is giving this crab fishing his all, too; he’s up to his knees in water. His method is to shove his hands directly into the rocks, but we’re nearly neck and neck. Not bad, old man. But I’m not playing second fiddle. If I catch a lot now, there will be more for me in the end! I can’t wait to see what kind of dish he serves up with these crabs. This place happens to be the small river we crossed when Shiro and Kuro went missing. It’s a bit far from the mansion, but I remembered a lot of fish swimming in the untouched water, as well as crab eyes poking out. The old man seemed to be going out to catch river crabs, so I led him here. “You really found a nice little spot here, eh?” “Arf, arf. (Right? I did, didn’t I? You can praise me more.)” Oh, but don’t pet me with those sopping hands of yours, please. “Wow, look at all the crabs!” “It’s so cute how they move their claws!” The pair of young ladies are practically bouncing around as they peer into the bucket. When they saw us leaving, they tagged along. “They’re making bubbles in the water, see?” “How fascinating. And adorable.” Well, those crabs the girls are so lovingly admiring are going to end up our dinner. Even so, I, a pure-hearted and innocent pet, would never actually say anything that crass. Lady Mary seems like she’s having fun, as always, but even Drills appears to be enjoying the nature here, which you can’t get in the capital city. It’s been almost a month since she came to stay at the mansion, but she seems to be having fun every day. Unlike when she was a highbrow, snot-nosed noble girl back in the city, she’s been smiling in a cheerful way well suited to her age. “Great, this should be enough. Let’s wind this up!” “Arwf. (Roger that.)” I climb out of the river and shake the water off me. “Squeak?! (Huh?! What’s going on?!)” Oops. I always forget Len is sleeping. I use my mane to catch her as she falls back out of the air. I just hope the old man didn’t see that. Mice are the archenemies of cooks. If he finds her, he’ll drown her and ship her away as burnable garbage. “You don’t need to hide it. I’m not gonna make it into a snack or anything.” Eep! Busted! The old man, a bucket hanging from either hand, is looking this way with an idly amazed expression. “A-arf, arf! (Y-you’ve got it all wrong! She’s a mouse, but she’s not a mouse? Despite how she looks, she actually likes to keep herself clean, and she takes baths all the time!)” “It’s your buddy, right? I see it occasionally eating meals with you and that cat from Miss Hecate’s place. No need to slink around—be proud about it.” The old man is so open-minded. “And besides, there is a certain habitual criminal snatching food from the kitchen who is more ill-mannered than mice.” Wait, who could that be? Sneaking into the old man’s kitchen, every single night, and having an all-you-can eat buffet? What a fatty. “Squeak. (I’m not responding to that.)” Well, why not? Without your witty comebacks, what would you be left with? You really would be a NEET who does nothing but eat and sleep. “Squeak! (As if you’re any different!)” I’m a pet, though, so it’s okay. It’s my job to eat, sleep, and be pampered. And you did make a snappy comeback after all. Smirk. “S-squeak! (C-curses!)” “You two sure seem friendly. No clue what you could be talking about, though.” “Squeak, squeak-squeak. (Oh? So you realize he and I are deeply in love with each other? Yes, yes. Well, you are certainly understanding for a human male.)” Nobody said anything about mutual love! Len’s ears make up the most convenient things sometimes. “Anyway, young ladies, you should be getting back, too.” “Okay!” “I understand.” In that case, come right up onto my back, young ladies. The forest isn’t exactly paved, so it’s hard to walk through. The ground is spotted with tree roots and stones, there’s soft parts and hard parts, and it’s uneven. Walking on your own two feet is sure to get you hurt. Yes, and I’m certainly not letting you two on my back because I want you to sit on me with your butts or anything lewd like that—it’s just heartfelt friendliness. “Squeak. (The fact that you’re making excuses means it’s already lewd.)” Quiet, quiet! I lower myself, and the two young ladies sit astride on my back, one in front of the other. “Thank you very much, Routa.” “If you will excuse me.” “Arf, arf. (Just leave it to me.)” I push up on my limbs to slowly rise. “Arf. (Whoops, I can’t forget about that.)” The old man brought three buckets along. While he carries two, I carry the other in my mouth. The young ladies are totally light, and this bucket doesn’t weigh much with only crabs in it. What an easy gig. “How do you plan to prepare these crabs?” asks Drills as the old man walks alongside us. For all she was calling them cute, she doesn’t seem to have any qualms about eating them. That’s a good thing. We live by eating other life, so feeling sorry for it would be egotistical. “River crabs generally don’t have much on them to eat, so I’ll make a stock out of them. Using that as a base when making mousse, cream, or sauce, it’ll give it a nice umami flavor. Just mixing it in will make it smell, though, so I will need to use a trick or two.” “Oh, that’s amazing! You use a lot of tricks to make your cooking delicious, huh?” “I, too, find myself unable to wait for meals every day.” Yeah, same here. The old man’s cooking is just too good. Once I eat breakfast, I can’t wait for lunch, and once I’m done with lunch, I’m looking forward to dinner. I wouldn’t have the will to live without his cooking. “And when I chanced to hear your name, I thought I might pass out. To think the court chef spoken so highly of as to be considered a fantasy had left the Royal Capital and was living in a place like this… If word of this were to spread to the nobles, they would begin madly requesting permission from Lord Gandolf to meet with you.” “I mean, your praise honors me, but I’ve still got a long way to go. There’s so much more for me to learn, you see.” From what I’ve heard, the old man worked as the head chef at the royal court when he was younger. Now he devotes himself to procuring all his own ingredients, working late every night to come up with new dishes and striving to improve his skills. “I know I say this in front of Mary, but do you have any intention of returning to the capital? I very much wish to let many more people taste the cooking you create. And you would certainly have no shortage of investors were you to open your own shop.” With his skills, that would definitely be possible. But it wouldn’t be very good. No, it would be very bad. Without the old man here, who would make food for the mansion? Not being able to eat his cooking anymore? I couldn’t stand it! Old man! Please don’t go! “I do not, unfortunately,” the old man answers decisively. “I owe a major debt to Lord Gandolf, and I don’t want to leave the young lady’s nutritional management in someone else’s hands. The servants are all good people, too. I’m allowed to be as free as I want, and I can stock up on as many rare ingredients as I wish. I couldn’t find a better workplace anywhere.” The old man grins, then pats me on the head. “Besides, I’m the only one who can satisfy this glutton here. I could never kick him to the curb and go to the capital.” “A-arf…! (O-old man…!)” I feel like I’m about to burst into tears at the old man’s warm words. “Woof, woof! (I love you, old man! I’ll be by your side forever!)” I wag my tail so hard it might rip off. “I was hoping for a stroke of luck to pull you into the Morgan Trading Company, but I suppose it just wasn’t meant to be.” Drills, that’s what you were thinking about? What a scary girl! Well, she is the daughter of one of the capital’s influential businessmen. “Still, I am already captive to your cooking. And I would like to visit Mary frequently in the future to partake of it.” “What does that mean? Am I just a bonus to you? Mrrr.” “Hee-hee. I’m joking.” Drills grabs the sulking young lady and pulls her into a hug. Truly a sacred sight. “Did you eat anything on the airship on the way here?” asks James. “Why, yes. That meal was unique and wonderful as well. Lord Gandolf truly does have an array of talented chefs. It must be an effect of his natural virtue and charisma.” “That would be my pupil. If you like, you can take him on. He goes from shop to shop, helping out where needed. It’s about time he settles down somewhere.” “Oh! Well, of course I shall!” The cook on the airship, huh? I’ve only heard his voice once from through a wall, but I remember how tasty the food was. He was almost as skilled as the old man. The old man is such a good master, so casually referring his student for employment. Once his student is working for the Morgan Trading Co., I really hope it lets him participate in product development. If it doesn’t do something to improve that utterly terrible pet food and the portable rations, pets and adventurers are liable to go on strike! The only one who gladly eats that pet food is the ground dragon Drills owns. “Arf, arf. (Well, either way, now I know the old man is always going to be at the mansion. Thank goodness.)” Now my nutritional needs at the mansion will be met. Thank you, old man. Old man forever! “Ahh, also, I did punch that idiot prince for playing with his food at the court, so if I left here, they’d have me executed…,” mutters the old man. …I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Wait, what the heck was this guy doing? “Actually, if we only wanted stock, we only needed about ten of them.” After washing the dirt and mud off the crabs, the old man lifts them from the strainer. “Arwf? (If you didn’t need that many, why’d we catch so much?)” We’ve got three buckets’ worth of river crabs. That’s ten times what we need for stock. The old man would never waste any ingredients, so he must have an idea. But what will he do with the unused crabs? “Curious about all the crab left over? Well—I’ll do this!” Saying that, the old man takes the still-energetic river crabs one at a time and throws them into a large pot of hot oil. Abandon all hope—ye river crabs will descend into a living, oily hell. With a delightful zzzhhhhhaaaa sound, the crabs’ coloring rapidly changes to a vivid red. “Arwf! (Eek! That’s crue—tasty!)” “Squeak. (Your true feelings are plain to see… That certainly is a scent to whet the appetite, however.)” “River crabs are small, and there’s not much to eat on them, but that means their shells are thin, too. If you fry them, you can eat them whole.” It would seem the old man is making unbattered deep-fried river crab. “Have a taste.” After shaking a little salt onto the freshly fried crustacean, he offers it to me. The red crab gives off a fragrant scent, and I chomp into it without a second thought. “Harf, harf! (It’s so hot and crispy!)” This is seriously good stuff. I can crunch through the shell like potato chips, and the inside is shockingly juicy. They’re not pungent at all, either, probably because he washed them so well. The only thing making a direct assault on my tongue is the natural taste of the crab. “Woof, woof! (Old man, more! Fry some more!)” “Ah, you like it, eh? Deep-fried food is a little inelegant to serve to the young ladies, after all. Let’s make it a snack just for us.” Heh-heh-heh. It’s a secret from everyone, then. “Does that mouse want any?” “Squeak! (I will have some, of course! I cannot let milord have it all to himself!)” “Meow! (Not to be rude, but Nahura is here, too! Wherever tasty things are, that is where I will be!)” Len isn’t the only one to show up—Nahura appears, too, using her spatial magic. “Arwf! (Hey! Now I won’t get us much! Have more restraint!)” “Oh, don’t start fighting. I’ll keep frying them up for you all.” Yahoo! We slam our faces into the river crabs being piled onto a large plate. “Mew-mewl! (Ahh, hot! It’s so hot! But it’s so tasty!)” “Squeak, squeak! (Indeed, this is quite delectable!)” It’s a simple dish, but the crabs are fried to perfection. If you don’t cook them enough, they won’t have that crispiness—and if you cook them too much, they’ll get too hard. But the outside is crisp, and the inside is juicy. He fries the entire crab in oil, which shuts all the flavoring inside. And the moment you take a bite, it’s like a flavor explosion in your mouth. “““Woof meow squeak!! (It’s so good!!)””” We eat our hearts out, enjoying the deep-fried snack. “Phew. There were quite a bit, but I fried them all. I don’t need any more, so you three can go ahead and eat the rest,” says the old man before cleaning up and going back to his dinner preparations. “Squeak. (Such a hearty meal. My stomach is fit to burst.)” “Meow. (Nahura’s is, too. I’m so full right now!)” “Arf, arf. (Oh, come on. You two aren’t trying hard enough.)” I’m still only on my third stomach, you know. “Squeak. (Methinks you eat too much. If you always consume that much, you’ll get big again. Which I’d welcome, of course.)” It wouldn’t cause a problem, though, with the shape-shifting technique and everything. No matter how gigantic my true form gets, it won’t matter as long as I have this spell. I can keep on gobbling down however much I want. “Woof— (Anyway, the rest of the crab is mine—)” I open my mouth wide, but right then, I sense someone’s presence. A starved look directed at my back. A passing maid? Or did the young lady sneak away from her studies once again? “Arwf! (There you are!)” I turn my gaze behind me. And there I see a pair of eyes peering in from the window in the back door of the kitchen, which leads to the garden. The eyes’ owner has drool streaming from their mouth, and their face is plastered to the window. “A-arwf? (Y-you… Wait, who are you?)” Seriously, who is that? The person clinging to the window has dirty, disheveled hair. They look like a vagrant. I don’t remember ever seeing someone like this. I don’t know who they are, but I can tell they’re hungry. “Arwf. (Oh, fine. You convinced me.)” I pick the plate up in my mouth, careful not to drop any of the crab, and open the door. It doesn’t look like the old man has noticed. “Arwf. (Here, eat up.)” “Y-you’re giving this to me?” Blue eyes look back at me from gaps in overgrown hair. “Arf, arf. (You wanted to eat it, right? Go for it. He who gives to another bestows upon himself, and all that. One day, once you’re bigger, you can come and repay me.)” “Squeak. (This one is clearly past their growth period.)” “Meow. (You sure are brutal to make someone so beat up owe you a debt.)” “Arf! (Nothing’s more expensive than free! A meal for a meal, that’s what I say!)” Well, I’m joking about that, of course, but when I look more closely, this ragged figure is a person. A girl. Wait. I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere… “Th-thank you!” The girl begins shoveling the crab in with her hands, tears coming to her blue eyes. “I’ll repay this! Crunch, crunch! This debt! Munch, munch! One day! Chomp, chomp! I promise!” Don’t thank me with food in your mouth. As she devours the crab, with the tears and snot getting all over her face, she induces a lot of sympathy in me. Even I, a high-class tongue terrorist, would feel bad licking a face like that… “D-do you want to lick me?” “Arf. (No, that’s okay.)” If anything, I’m the sort who wants to lick those who don’t want it. I lose my energy if they tell me to bring it on. “Arf, arf. (Also, I just realized something.)” “What?” “Arwf? (You can understand what I’m saying, right?)” “Mm-hmm. Didn’t I say that before? Don’t tell me you forgot about me…” I didn’t forget or anything. I definitely wasn’t acquainted with anyone this dirty— Hmm? “Arwf. (Excuse me a moment.)” I use my front paw to sweep her overgrown bangs out of her face. Those smooth features, with that boyish charm— “Arf! (Allie!)” Alstera, the Hero. The one who carried that holy sword as the descendant of the legendary Hero. Well, turns out she wasn’t his descendant at all, and the holy sword was actually a magic sword possessed by one of the generals of the Demon Lord’s army, but still. However, the magic sword’s mental control of Allie was undone, and she regained her senses. I thought she left here quite some time ago, saying she was starting over as an adventurer. What’s she still doing here? And I hadn’t assumed she’d be so…poor-looking. Her hair is scraggly, and her clothing is scruffy. Also, she smells weird. Smells a lot more like an animal than I, a dog, do. “N-ngh…” Unable to stand my stare any longer, Allie moans and squats down. She doesn’t stop intently grabbing the crabs to eat, though. They really are delicious. Can’t blame her there. “Arwf. (I think you’re gonna need a bath before telling me your story.)” She must have been peeking in from outside because she didn’t want to run into any of the mansion-dwellers. She seems to be in some sort of predicament, so we can’t use the bath here. “Arf. (Which just leaves the elves’ village.)” They have baths there, and they can get a change of clothes ready for her. “Arwf. (Nahura, if you please.)” “Meow! (Okay, with pleasure!)” “Huh? What?” Leaving the confused Allie aside, Nahura activates her spatial magic. White blankets our vision for a moment, and in the next, we’re standing in the middle of the elf village. “Oh my, Lord Routa! You’ve deigned to visit us again!” “Oh, it’s the king!” Aruru, the eldest daughter, and Ururu, the third eldest, who were right nearby, run over to us. “Would you like to eat? Would you like a bath? Or would you like— Eek! Huh? Lord Routa, you really smell!” “The king is smelly!” The elves plug their noses and take a step back. It’s not me, got it? I take a bath every day. I’m clean. The scent is coming from the girl wanderer fidgeting behind me. “Sorry, but could you get her a bath?” “Y-yes, Lord Routa. If you so decree, we will gladly do so.” “Wow, she’ll be worth it to clean!” One of the elf girls picks up Allie under the arms. “Huh? What? R-Routa?! What is this?! Where are we?! Who are these people?! P-please help meee!” Dona dona, do-na do-na. Allie is taken away. “Wow, amazing! The bathwater is black as ink!” “I am baffled as to how you got this dirty. Even monsters keep themselves a little cleaner than this.” “Mgh… This is humiliating on several levels…” Allie, having been thrown into a big bath made from a hollowed-out tree stump, is being scrubbed clean by the elf girls. “Lord Routa, while you’re waiting, why not have some of this? We just finished cooking it earlier.” They offer still-warm nut cookies to me. “Woof! (Thanks, Iruru!)” Aruru’s younger twin sister, Iruru, gives me a cookie. It has a controlled sweetness and a plain taste, but the nutty fragrance comes back up to the nose. They’re good. Especially how crunchy they are—I can’t get enough of that. I really love cookies that have this kind of bite to them, like they’re supposed to. “Squeak. (I’m surprised it fits, with all you just ate.)” I’ve got room to spare! I’ll eat anything I get. No tolerance for leftovers—that’s my proud creed. I’m confident my stomach will be nice and empty for dinner, and that I’ll be able to take on the old man’s cooking. I keep chomping away on cookies for a few minutes while I wait. “We’re finished, Lord Routa.” “She’s squeaky clean!” There stands a neat and clean Allie with all the grime removed. They even gave her a free haircut and put her in elf clothes. Her own clothing and her dirty armor are apparently being washed now. “Ahh, agh. These clothes… They’re a little drafty, aren’t they?” Without the armor and with a proper haircut, she really does look like a proper girl. How did I ever mistake such a cute girl for a man? Does that mean my eyes were just as blind as everyone else’s? Well, they do say pets take after their owners! Yep, can’t blame me! “Arf, arf? (Since you seem to have calmed down, do you want to say what’s going on?)” “Y-yeah… Actually…” The story Allie gives us goes like this: She certainly got started on her journey. She left the mansion and went south, passed through a village, and traveled along town roads—at first, everything was going just fine. Freed from the brainwashing that had cast a haze over her for a long time, she continued her travels, feeling light and refreshed. But then a problem occurred. She encountered a monster. It was only a goblin—an easy opponent for even lower-rank adventurers to defeat. Even without the holy sword, Allie still possessed the physical abilities she’d needed to freely wield it in the first place. Plus, as an all-around adventurer, she has a mastery over magic. Even if she was unarmed, it wouldn’t be an issue. A puny monster like a goblin wasn’t a fearsome opponent at all. That was definitely not what the outcome said, though. Allie realized something was off about her immediately. When she confronted the monster, her whole body began to tremble. By the time she realized it was out of fear, she’d panicked, rendering magic usage hopeless. As the goblin approached, she even screamed, and then she ran away from that place for her life. Even after she couldn’t see the goblin anymore, she kept running, running, and running. The next thing she knew, she’d come right back to a spot near the mansion. “I’m disgusted with myself. Without that holy sword, I was nothing but a timid little girl. How could I have forgotten about that?” When Allie was little, she’d apparently had a meek, reclusive personality. When she inherited the holy sword from her parents, her character had made a 180-degree turn, and she’d become fearless and brazen… “Arf, arf? (But that was because the holy sword brainwashed her, huh?)” It was Belgor, now fallen to the rank of sharp-edged knife—but once, he was a great demon who possessed Allie’s entire clan. Yeah—if your mind was invaded by a demon when you were young, and then you were suddenly released and went back to your old personality, you’d probably be so scared you wouldn’t know what to do. Allie had reverted, and now she couldn’t go any farther. She was fending off starvation, always sleeping in the wild, finding nuts and grasses where she could. “Monsters don’t come out in this area for some reason, so…” That’s because Garo and the other Fen Wolves immediately hunt down any violent monsters around here. It’s safe as can be. “Arf, arf. (You should have just come back to the mansion instead of trying to live out in the wild like that. Everyone would have welcomed you in.)” “I could never possibly do that!” “Arf? (Why not?)” “Because! Because…I pretended to be so cool when I set off on my own, I can’t possibly show my face to them now!” Oh. Right. Yeah. I think so, too. The Allie that put on a sharp face, crossed fists with Zenobia, and always acted the first-rate adventurer is gone now. Having such a cool departure, then running away from a goblin and going right back… It would be way too embarrassing. Well, if I were her, I’d have gone back without thinking about it much. I left all my shame in my past life. “What should I do…? At this rate, I’ll never be able to do anything…” Allie sits, hugging her knees to her chest and hanging her head. “Arwf… (Hmm… I was the one who broke the holy sword, so I wish I could do something for you. I wonder…)” “Squeak? (If she’s weaker because she lost the holy sword, shouldn’t we have her hold it again?)” “Arf… (You say that, but…)” That holy sword is now the old man’s knife and doesn’t have any of its brainwashing power left. It wouldn’t have any effect on Allie right now. “Arwf. (I don’t think the problem is that Allie lost her actual combat abilities.)” Allie is scared of monsters now purely because of a mental block. And her sword-ordered monster-killing rampages have to be aggravating the trauma. The sword’s mind control deflected her fear of fighting monsters and her guilt at taking their lives, and now all of that has rebounded back to her. She’d have no problems with living if she stopped being an adventurer and spent her days like a regular person, but that’s probably not what she’s looking for right now. “Arf, arf? (Allie, what is it you want to do?)” “I… I want to start everything over. I want to become someone who can meet Zenobia again with her head held high. Not the old me, who was trapped by the Hero title—but someone who can help people because she wants to…!” Allie raises her head; her willpower seems solid. “B-but whenever I’m faced with a monster, I’m so scared I start to shake…” “Arwf? (But you’re fine with us being here, right?)” “Huh?” “Arf. (Nice to meet you—I’m Fenrir, the Fen Wolf King.)” “Squeak. (And I am the blue dragon Lenowyrm.)” We are technically legendary monsters, apparently. Hundreds of thousands of times stronger than the goblin Allie ran away from. I think. “I know you two, and I know you won’t attack me, so…” Hmm. So it’s not that she’s scared of monsters—she’s scared of battle itself.