Chapter 94. The Festival (3)

“Alright then, start cooking, now!”

The announcer’s declaration signaling the start of the finals.

Waaaaaah-!

A thunderous cheer from the citizens gathered in the plaza.

“Wow…. Two of the four are from our mercenary band! I knew Battalion Commander Karen was a good cook, but Bishop Alina too…?”

Ignoring Bart’s excited voice coming from my side, I focused.

This was a crisis situation.

Moreover, the biggest crisis since my appointment to Wolfskrig.

[Deploying [Lord’s Unyielding Mind].]

Let’s sort out the situation.

There are a total of four contestants in the cooking contest finals.

Two of them are allies.

Karen and Alina.

The problem is the other two.

The Princess of Blood, Hebrun von Zarhill, one of only two 8th-tier necromancers in the Vampire Archduchy.

And the pyromancer of the Imperial Secret Knight Order, the mad witch Ella Siollus.

Could I have ever imagined seeing these two holding cooking utensils and diligently preparing food?

It felt as if at any moment, that kitchen knife would stab someone, and the flames would engulf the people in the plaza.

‘Master. In case you were wondering, Tick-Tocky’s belly is just fine.’

‘Tick-tock……?’

Right.

Let's calm down.

No accident has happened yet.

The fact that ‘The Maiden Who Heralds the Time’ is not reacting means that there is almost no possibility of a disaster breaking out, at least in the short term.

It probably means that those two didn't come here with the intention of harming me.

First, I need to finish sorting out the situation.

First up, Ella Siollus.

She knows the Princess of Blood.

Not only does she know her, but she also holds a grudge.

Seeing her glance towards the Princess of Blood while pretending not to, it seems she has already identified her.

It appears dyeing her hair black wasn't enough to fool her eyes….

“The moment I say it, Miss Ella's stove is spewing flames like crazy! Is she going to use the direct-fire steak that won her a landslide victory in the preliminaries once again!”

Fwoooosh-!!

…It must be a coincidence that it reminds me of the flames that incinerated the undead in the Berenburg basement.

Anyway, apart from knowing her identity, it seems she has no intention of clashing right now.

Fortunately, this seems to be the case for the Princess of Blood as well.

Is that one less thing to worry about?

Then, what's important now is the reason.

Leaving aside Ella, who is a secret knight, why on earth did the Princess of Blood come here?

To a fortress city ruled by an honorary paladin lord, where hundreds of dispatched priests and paladins are present, even if the security is lax due to the festival season.

The one who told me the reason was an unexpected person.

“My Lord Viscount, my Lord Viscount. We have a big problem…!”

Old man Brol, who had secretly approached from behind the judge's seat, whispered in my ear.

“That black-haired woman. That woman is the Princess of Blood. The vampire who killed Count Gunterburk…!”

Our well-connected old man Brol has brought information once again.

***

The intelligence department was established around the time the Viscount's army was reorganized after arriving in Wolfskrig.

This organization, which was not given a separate name for security reasons, has been building a solid human network over the past few months, with over ten full-time agents and dozens of local informants.

The head of the intelligence department is old man Brol.

This was also a groundbreaking personnel change, comparable to old man Poodle's.

Excellent command ability and the ability to lead a secret organization are completely separate fields, except for the slight overlap of dealing with people.

Anyway, old man Brol's role within the intelligence department can be summarized in a few points.

Organization management and reporting.

A bit of administrative processing.

And most importantly, information extraction.

‘Paperwork can be left to others, but information extraction is the real deal.’

He has an unidentifiable trait.

A trait that allows him to hear the ‘truth’ from anyone based on his friendliness.

The power is beyond words.

Even [Lord’s Unyielding Mind], which has complete immunity to mental-type traits, was shaken for a moment.

This trait has often created a fantastic synergy with old man Brol's unique sociable personality.

Thanks to this, I was able to get a head start on hard-to-access confidential information such as the news of the civil war outbreak and the contents of the Imperial regular report.

This time, he had uncovered the identity of the Princess of Blood who had infiltrated the city.

Moreover, according to old man Brol, they had been together all day at the festival today.

“On my way back from the mine, I was reading a letter with news of my first love, that wench Betty… no, anyway, I was on the boat, and she started talking to me.”

“She started talking to you first?”

“That’s right. Well, my beard was looking pretty good today. Anyway, just in case, I asked her a few things while we introduced ourselves.”

“Did she find out your identity?”

“Nope. I just said I was about a company commander level. I used Sir Terren’s name.”

Terren.

Are you helping me even in death with just your name?

A moment of silence for my comrade who left this world a long time ago.

“Anyway, it's not like she said, ‘I am the Princess of Blood,’ or anything like that… but after asking around in circles, there was no other answer. The name Hebrun is common, but it's still the same name as the Princess of Blood, isn't it?”

“That's right. You did well.”

“Ah, she also said she came here to collect something. But she said the other party was a bit scary, so she was just thinking of catching their eye….”

Old man Brol furrowed his thick eyebrows handsomely.

Something to collect.

That sounds like it's about me.

Come to think of it, I still haven't kept my promise from Gunterburk.

Perhaps that's why she summoned me with the sacred relic a while ago.

“I can't imagine it. A high-ranking necromancer being afraid of someone, and that person being in our territory… Ah! Don't tell me?”

“Hmm?”

“Could it be that you, my Lord Viscount, are that scary opponent…?”

“Stop talking nonsense and stand guard properly, Captain of the Guard.”

“Ah, understood.”

This old man can be surprisingly sharp at times.

Anyway, I knew the reason.

The Princess of Blood came to find me, or rather, Tribus.

It seems that turning Kkumteuli to ‘silent mode’ when she called me a few days ago was the cause that drew her here.

It couldn't be helped.

I had my reasons.

First of all, she contacted me when the festival preparations were in full swing.

This festival is a harvest festival, but it also serves as a substitute for the festival celebrating my appointment, which should have been held a few months ago.

That means I am also the star of this festival.

As the territory has developed rapidly in a short period, it's natural for all eyes to be on me.

These eyes also include the church's gaze.

It's not easy to leave my post and act as Tribus in a situation like this.

Of course, I could have just gone and come back earlier, but honestly, I was too busy.

After the Gunterburk incident, events came one after another without rest: the founding of the mercenary band, the civil war, and the development of the territory.

For almost a year, I had rarely slept more than four hours a day.

If it weren't for the stamina traits I gained in between, I would have collapsed from overwork a long time ago.

Before the beastmen invasion, Olif had even come to my office to worry about my health.

‘Even without that, I would have been conflicted.’

Anyway, on the surface, she is the head of an enemy nation.

Teaching the Vampire Duke how to regain his power is a matter that could be directly related to the safety of my territory.

Whether in a positive or negative way.

Anyway, a conclusion has been reached to some extent recently.

So I was thinking of going to meet her after the festival ended.

‘I never thought she would come all the way to the city.’

No, even if she did, I would have understood if she had used force.

How was I supposed to know that this hot-blooded vampire would mingle with the crowd?

Well, at least her intentions are not aggressive.

Tick-Tocky's gem not turning red is also a sign of that.

If she really intended to attack, she wouldn't be so diligently simmering a soup in a cooking contest like this.

Now that she's inside the city, I can only hope she leaves quietly.

The moment my thoughts were organized, the cooking contest moved on to the second act.

“As I speak, the bell has rung! The first person to complete their dish is…!”

It's time to taste and judge the completed dishes one by one.

“Miss Ella's direct-fire steak!”

The first batter is Ella Siollus.

I have to eat that mad witch's cooking.

***

Sometimes in life, things happen that you just can't understand.

It's a situation often described as cognitive dissonance.

Like right now.

“?”

I cut a bite-sized piece of steak and put it in my mouth.

With a considerable amount of tension.

But.

“??”

What is this.

Why is this delicious?

Thinking that my sense of taste might have been temporarily broken due to tension, I put another piece in my mouth.

“……”

It's tender.

The outside has a very slight crispy texture.

Once you break through the salt-seasoned crispiness, a tender meat texture that feels like it will melt greets you.

And this, is it called a smoky flavor?

A subtle woody aroma added on top of the unique smoky flavor of direct-fire grilling lingers in my mouth.

“Oh my, this charcoal aroma is properly infused. How did you do it? The seasoning is just a tad strong, though.”

It seems to be satisfactory even to the palate of old man Poodle's wife, whom I personally consider much more objective and picky than myself.

She, one of the judges for this cooking contest, has already proven her top-notch cooking skills several times through the snacks she got from old man Poodle.

“Mmm, good. It's a pass for me. You did a great job.”

“Hee hee, thank you.”

By the way, this woman.

So the mad witch of fire could smile like that.

Actually, she's overshadowed by the Princess of Blood, but it's not an ordinary thing for this woman to be here either.

As a member of the Imperial Secret Knight Order, she must have come following the Emperor's orders.

“Does it suit the Viscount's palate?”

Here too, the reason is important.

Why did the Emperor send her?

Does he have something to tell me?

Or is it indirect pressure?

“…Is there something on my face?”

As I stared at her blankly without a word, her expression began to harden slightly.

The emotion in that expression is tension.

Strange.

I know better than anyone that she is not the type of person to get tense just because a noble is staring at her.

Unless there is a separate reason for it.

Could she be on an infiltration mission?

Did she receive an order to investigate the state of the territory without getting caught and return?

I unconsciously turned my head towards the crowd teeming in the plaza.

“…E-eeek.”

It's certain.

Among the crowd, a giant two heads taller than everyone else is standing there blankly.

It's Karok.

A member of the secret knight order, a half-blood of the giant race.

He is a fellow who overwhelms everyone with his pure physical strength even within the Imperial Secret Knight Order.

I don't know why he sent them, as neither of them is suited for an infiltration mission….

“……Keehee, eek, eek.”

…It's probably not a problem to be figured out right now.

Seeing the witch's expression harden to the point of making strange laughter, I feel a chill down my spine.

The fingertips of the hand holding the meat-cutting knife are trembling, as if she's about to cause trouble at any moment.

This crazy woman is the type of person who wouldn't be strange to claim the miraculous logic that ‘if there are no witnesses, you haven't been caught.’

With a quick brain turnover comparable to that in battle, I swiftly and calmly derived a countermeasure.

It was to pretend I didn't know.

“Mmm, delicious.”

“Eek…?”

“It's so delicious I'm at a loss for words.”

Nodding my head vigorously, I wrote down the score on the scorecard.

Only then did the witch's trembling hand regain its stability.

I moved on to the next cook as if fleeing.

“Bishop Alina has taken something out of the pot!”

This time, it's Alina's turn.

“Uh… what is that? Is it a dessert? Anyway, seeing her glaring intently at her competitors, she seems to have prepared thoroughly!”

As I stood in front of the makeshift table, Alina brought out a plate.

On the plate, an unidentifiable yellowish lump was wobbling, with tumor-like garnish embedded here and there.

“……”

This is food, right?