“They taste great simmered in oil, but a simple salt-and-pepper job will do here.”
“Ugh, more stuff that could do with a glass of wine or ale...” muttered Leo.
Shiori laughed.
“You used to get people telling you to eat beef or drink Alphan bison soup if you lost blood to an injury, but back home people ate chicken giblets,” said Linus.
“They probably knew on some level that it was nutritious in that way,” remarked Shiori.
“Yep, they probably did. Growing up, we used to think it was just superstition, but you sure did feel lucky when you were injured, at least for the feast you were served. Every meal you’d have some cut up into little pieces instead of medicine. It wasn’t much in terms of the amount, so I don’t know if it actually had much of an effect, but still...”
Linus’s gaze grew distant as he spoke, thinking back on the village he’d once called home. Once his elderly parents had passed away, he’d left, but he often talked of where he’d come from, and it was clear it was a place filled with fond memories.
“Okay, I think these are done,” he announced. “If Master Clemens can stomach them, he gets first dibs. And Marena can...skip them this time?”
“A little won’t be a problem, I don’t think,” said Shiori.
“Great, that’s good to hear.”
“The karaage is done too, so let’s take it all to the medic tents, shall we?”
The adventurers put some of the food on a plate especially for the medic area and took it over.
“Oh my goodness, this all looks amazing!” screamed Marena.
She’d built up quite the appetite, it seemed.
“Don’t overdo it,” warned Ludger from nearby, though he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from the karaage.
Shiori and the others handed out food to the injured, the people with them, and the medics looking after them all. Clemens had some trouble sitting up, but was able to do so thanks to the help of some extra pillows, and enjoyed some soup. His appetite was back, just like Ellen had said, and Nadia would later inform them that he ate his entire bowl of meatball soup.
“He couldn’t stomach any of the meat,” Nadia would add, “and he looked so very heartbroken about it.”
“And gullinkambi isn’t all that common on the market either...”
When Shiori mentioned that perhaps they could ask Linus to hunt one as a wedding present, Nadia looked delighted.
By the time the adventurers had brought their food out to the center of the main camp, preparations for the celebration were almost finished. Folding tables had been lined up, on which were grilled meats, stews, skewered fish, fruit pies, nuts and berries, and bread. When everyone realized they also had karaage, meatball soup, and liver paste to enjoy, cheers rang through the air.
For those who knew of the victory celebrations hosted in the royal capital, the main camp’s celebrations were a simple affair. However, when one considered that the flow of goods had been badly hampered by the magical beast stampedes, it was quite the luxury.
The adventurers—who had been the stars of the show, so to speak—gathered at the center of the camp, while members of the suppression unit were set to come and go as they worked their usual guard shifts. When most of the party’s attendees were assembled, the Torisval Margrave arrived with the leaders of the northern knights corps. Unlike the strategy meeting before the battle, however, the intimidating air that had once surrounded them was gone, and Kristoffer’s affable smile had returned to his face. It even deepened for a moment when he met Shiori’s eyes.
And yet, in that instant, she couldn’t help noticing the corners of his eyes were damp.
“Yeah, I, uh... I made him cry a little...” muttered Zack.
When the margrave had seen Zack upon his return, covered in blood, with his right sleeve burned off completely, he had been stunned speechless.
“You did it...” he’d uttered at long last. “You survived...”
Here at the celebration, Kristoffer raised a hand to quiet the crowd. The chatter around the main camp settled down, and in its place there was only the wind passing over the nearby plains and the chirping of birds. For a time, this was all that could be heard, because the margrave said nothing. The gathered adventurers and knights waited, but no opening speech came, and after a while, whispers could be heard among the crowd.
“I... I apologize,” Kristoffer said, finally. “In my old age, I fear I’m growing soft. Tears come to me far more quickly now. I had imagined myself standing up here before you all and giving a grand speech, but now, as I gaze upon all of you, those grand words are lost to me.”
His voice was husky, and he looked down at his feet for a moment, rubbing his eyes as he chuckled wryly.
“Your valor shone today,” he continued. “You fought off the threat of stampedes, and you defeated the legendary dragon that was the cause of them. More importantly, not a man or woman was lost in your efforts. This, more than anything, brings me tremendous joy.”
These words brought smiles to the faces of those gathered there, and they spread across the crowd like a gentle wave in the sea.
“I know that all of you—those who fight with weapons, those who fight with magic, and those who support your teams from the back lines—made the most of your skills today, when it mattered most. In doing so, you brought about total victory. We accomplished our task and we lost not a single person. You have my deepest gratitude.”