"Sir...Sir Neril, do you have any pepper?"
Then, Gallo blurted out. He was the first person to speak at a quiet dinner today. Strangely, the damp Retreat didn't seem to be able to withstand the heavy atmosphere.
"Just do what you give them."
"Bro, I really want to, but oh my God, the stew tastes like mud."
Or maybe they just couldn't stand the taste of the stew.
"I, I'm actually..."
"I'd like to add a little salt..."
As if a squirt had burst, he opened hia mouth. Stew's harsh criticism continued, and the pressure was finally relieved.
"Ask Medea."
Cesare froze again.
"The precious Princess always cares about the main thing."
He was referring to a time when he hid alone in the mountains to overturn Samon Claudio's trap.
His eyes playfully rolled up, and his face was shaded with twilight. His dangerously handsome face was accentuated even more.
It was his usual routine.
He watched all that Medea knew the forest inside and out, but he didn't respond.
Even Neril, who worshipped her like a God, was shaken, but only Cesare was at peace.
"..."
Medea looked grave and pulled out a shaker of salt and pepper from her bosom.
"Your Highness, excuse me a little..."
"I don't know."
I'll have to think about it.
The icy atmosphere was shattered when Medea snatched the pepper from Gallo's hand.
"Huh? Do you hate me so much?"
Gallo's stunned face made everyone laugh impatiently.
"Thank you today. If it weren't for Her Royal Highness, I'd be a centipede by now."
The awkwardness and confusion of the day were thus relegated.
After all, they were part of the expedition until the end.
Whatever the reason, it was clear that Medea was holding out in this forest without a single vacancy.
Nodding in understanding, Medea turned her attention to Cesare.
He only lifted the corners of his mouth slightly.
"Neril. It's humanly too tasteless. I should have taken the spatula out of your mind."
Tom, who had barely finished his part, grumbled to Neril.
"Oh, this was made by Lord Neril...?"
Gallo, who had been teasing the spoon with pepper on it, began to shove the stew into his mouth without saying a word.
"Somehow, I felt a sense of innocence in the plainness of the heart."
"Gallo, what do you mean when you said earlier that the person who made this must have no taste?"
"I thought Tom made it..."
Gallo exclaimed in frustration.
"Just do what you give them. Before you shove the grass into it."
Still, Neril paused for a moment and then threw something at Gallo.
"Beef jerky?"
"What! You have meat, but you don't give it to me?! Hey, aren't you doing too much for a bloody, fleshy motive?"
Gallo's face was wide, and he began to shove the stew back into his mouth.
After dinner, there was a rare leisure time to shake off the remnants of the day.
"Have a drink! Didn't you know that I was going to do this and that I had brought you a 500-year-old honey liquor?"
Gallo pulled a small wooden barrel from his bosom.
"Tsk, from the time I got off the boat, I asked him why he was so pampered..."
"Man, so you won't drink?"
"No, sir. I admire Gallo's acumenity. Kya, look at this time."
"The smell of oak is amazing, isn't it? Come on, Princess!"
Gallo, excited by Tom's slap, offered Medea a drink as well.
"..."
Medea paused. The baby-blue water in the glass was so thick.
"Gallo. Wake up."
What kind of alcohol is it?
With a low voice, a straight hand stood in his way, snatching Medea's drink.
He gave her a small water bottle.
"You drink this."
The liquid was as clear as water.
"It's the World Tree. It's an adaptogen, don't worry, drink it."
World tree water?
She had heard that it was precious, but she had never actually eaten it, so Medea took a sip without hesitation.
But somehow, it smelled familiar. Slightly sweet, bland, peculiar...
"This... Neril, does that sound like the juice you're making?"
Neril looked at Cesare for a moment and nodded as if she couldn't.
"Yes, Your Highness. Cesare gave it to Your Highness for every meal. If you leave on an expedition suddenly, your body won't be able to hold on."
Somehow, he wasn't as prepared as she was in her life, but she felt like her body was holding up easily.
She wondered if her situation had improved and her body had become healthier, but was it because of the World Tree water?
"You don't have to say thank you. He's just doing what I want him to do."
Terence interrupted.
He looked at Cesare and only shrugged. Medea nodded and took another sip.
The sap in the bottle Cesare gave her was much sweeter than the juice Neril had given her.
Somehow, she felt relieved.
The warmth of the campfire and the sound of the expedition members' words tickling their ears were pleasant.
She pretended to be fine, but maybe she was a little nervous.
Just like people always do when they have secrets they don't want to be revealed.
In fact, she wanted to throw it up.
It's her second life, but she didn't expect it to be like this.
This way, the forest advances together to cut down the evil dragon.
"... I didn't think it would be fun...."
Her head dropped.
"Your Highness!"
"Are you okay?"
Before Neril, Cesare quickly approached and examined Medea.
Her eyes were closed, and her cheeks were reddish-red.
"She's not hurt. I think she's just a little drunk."
Terence examined Medea, and Gallo suddenly stared at his boss.
"Boss, didn't you give it to her as it was?"
"Is that right?"
"Didn't you know that World Tree water? If you eat this all at once, you'll get drunk like a drink?"
Cesare furrowed his brow.
"I didn't care."
"That's a monster like a boss. If it's not a curse, it's going to be a message, right? Don't just ordinary people by your own standards."
"I will serve Your Highness."
As if he couldn't hear Neril, Cesare squeezed Medea's cheek. It was too small to fit in his hand.
'So, you're squirming at some sort of World Tree water.'
Her golden eyes were filled with both disapproval and loveliness.
"Guide me."
Cesare wrapped Medea around him in his outer garment. He gently picked her up and stood up.
Neril tried to stop him, but Cesare's behavior was cautious and respectful, and she could find no excuse to stop him.
"Is this the only thing you want to cover?"
Seeing Medea's cot, Cesare frowned.
He knows better than anyone that he can't afford to be so luxurious when they're constantly on the move.
But when it came to Medea, neither the cot nor the rust-colored blanket seemed too meager.
"Take Sylvarand from my luggage. You know where Alpha is."
Neril paused.
When Sylvareland, a magic you made of yarn that the elves spun?
The mysterious power of the elves kept them warm and soothed, and they made the warer's dreams clear and comfortable, Kensington had heard them say as he passed by.
"The level of munitions is different."
Valdina had made a lot of progress, but she was still a long way from keeping up with Katzen's wealth.
"...Yes."
Neril left, and Cesare got up and left the barracks.
At that moment, a tear streamed down Medea's cheek and grabbed her ankle.
"...I didn't think it would be fun..."
"What's holding you back like that?"
Instead of rough, calloused hands, he used the back of his soft hand to wipe away the dripping water.
The dusky moonlight shone through the open door of the barracks.
Comments
Post a Comment