Chapter 9: Roast Chicken
Not long after Veles left, Anna arrived with the villagers of Green River, brandishing hoes and shovels with an intimidating air.
The mercenaries lying on the ground, unable to move and wailing continuously, were naturally taken away by the villagers. Before they were taken off, Anna’s friends rushed forward and beat them up again. During this, Alan awkwardly looked away, even starting to wonder whether he shouldn’t have stopped Veles from killing those mercenaries—after all, they were now screaming far more pitifully than before.
Immediately afterward, Village Chief Hans was dragged by his wife and scolded, being ordered to resolve the problems in the forest as quickly as possible to avoid inviting trouble like the group that came today.
Hans repeatedly promised through his pitiful cries that he would definitely think of a way.
Meanwhile, Alan found himself surrounded by the villagers. Perhaps it was because of his appearance, or perhaps due to the gentle temperament that set him apart from the other locals, the villagers of Green River treated Alan with unusual care and concern, as if he were a fragile noblewoman in need of extra protection. They carefully asked if he had been injured, and even after learning that he was perfectly fine, they stubbornly insisted that he must have been frightened in some way.
(“I really am fine…” Alan said weakly. No one heard him.)
Finally, when Alan finally returned home from Green River Village, there was a small cart behind him, piled high with gifts from the villagers—tokens meant to soothe the imaginary psychological trauma they believed he had suffered.
Exhausted, Alan sorted all the items into categories in his already somewhat overburdened little house, then collapsed into his rocking chair.
Oh, and in the end, he still hadn’t mentioned Veles to the village chief.
Alan covered his face with his hands and let out a long sigh.
Although he was reluctant to admit it, Alan couldn’t help but feel a small spark of affection for Veles because of being rescued that morning.
After all, not every powerful person would bother saving a seemingly fragile countryside mage from a group of rogue mercenaries.
Alan carefully replayed the morning’s events in his mind, and his cheeks inexplicably warmed.
‘That person… should be a good person, right?’ he thought.
Though his temper was a bit strange.
He added that thought silently to himself.
In any case, he really ought to properly thank him for what happened today…
Thinking of Veles, Alan couldn’t avoid confronting this fact.
Of course, even without Veles, it wasn’t guaranteed that he would have been captured and sold by those scoundrels. But to deal with them on his own, he likely would have paid a high price, and the outcome would probably have been quite humiliating.
This was no small favor. In the world of adventurers, it might have been worth an A-rank intelligence exchange, or the priority rights for some secret dungeon exploration mission.
But Alan had been away from the adventurer world for far too long. He no longer had any valuable magical items at his disposal, let alone intelligence to offer.
After wandering around his house for a few circles, the countryside mage despondently ruffled his hair and finally gave in, deciding to repay this life-saving favor in the traditional way of Green River Village.
Which, roughly speaking, meant cooking a dish he was best at and sending it, along with some good homemade wine, to the recipient’s home.
Alan thought for a moment and settled on making roast chicken—though it wasn’t his only specialty, nearly everyone in his adventuring party loved his roast chicken, including the mysterious, immensely powerful captain. Alan thought that maybe… perhaps…
Veles would like it too?
Unlike the bold, rustic roast chicken of this world, Alan added a few extra touches to his version.
For example, he carefully separated the chicken meat from the skin with his hands and tucked several thick slices of butter underneath the skin.
Or, he blended fatty foie gras and truffles into a fine paste and stuffed it into the cavity of the roast chicken.
In addition to the foie gras and truffles, the chicken’s cavity was filled with a whole apple soaked in red wine, along with plenty of herbs and garlic.
By the time it went into the oven, the chicken had become plump and rounded. As it cooked, the butter under the skin melted, giving the roast chicken an extra-crispy, golden, and fragrant exterior.
The stuffing inside added layers of rich, complex flavors and aromas.
Especially the luxurious combination of foie gras and truffles: the previously mild chicken meat became fatty, tender, and aromatic. The apple and herbs perfectly balanced the richness of the fat, while the juices released from the heated apple made the meat soft and juicy.
This was a roast chicken that anyone would love.
Moreover, during roasting, Alan occasionally brushed the chicken with honey water—without worrying that it would become overly sweet, because after coming out of the oven, he sprinkled it with sea salt and spice powders.
Cloves, cardamom, black pepper, and dried ginger—all released their fragrant aroma under the high heat and fat.
To match such a richly flavored roast chicken, Alan chose a particularly sweet-and-tart honey apple cider. Fine bubbles rose gently in the clear glass bottle like tiny golden beads.
The roast chicken and the cider both looked delicious, yet Alan still felt a bit anxious.
After all, in the world of adventurers, only things related to magic were truly valuable; ordinary food like this… might seem a bit…
meager?
Alan bit his lip, feeling slightly nervous.
Even though he knew it probably didn’t matter much, he added a few extra jars of jam to the basket, along with a small bag of his homemade cookies—each piece coated with caramel and sprinkled with almond bits.
“W-well, at least it smells good.” Alan comforted himself.
He took a deep breath, lifted the slightly heavy basket, and nervously made his way toward Veles’s little house.
Along the way, Alan kept praying that he wouldn’t get lost too long in the magical maze surrounding Veles’s home. After all, a bottle of cider, a roast chicken, and a big pile of small desserts was quite heavy for a mage like him to carry.
But, to Alan’s surprise, he reached Veles’s house without any trouble. He didn’t encounter any magical barriers or even any physical traps.
The only minor problem came when he neared the ranger’s cabin: a few vines slithered out, curling toward him with what seemed like eagerness.
Alan jumped back several steps, only to realize belatedly that these slightly disgusting yet somewhat terrifying scaly vines were actually trying to help carry his basket.
“Th-thank you? But no, I think I can manage on my own.” Alan muttered, still frightened.
He had already prepared himself for the basket to be snatched away, but to his surprise, after he made his timid refusal, the vines obediently retreated. Their curled tips drooped slightly, giving them a dejected, almost sad look.
‘You weren’t like this the first time I saw you?!’
Alan gaped at the pitiful green creatures, shouting silently in his mind.
And so, with a faint twinge of guilt, Alan successfully arrived at Veles’ house.
Then he stood in front of the little cabin, froze, and made a sour face.
It was already dusk. By all logic, the ranger’s working hours should have ended, so Veles ought to be at home. Yet the ramshackle little cabin was pitch-black, without a single flicker of light or shadow. On top of that, the ranger’s cabin had always been poorly maintained—thick cobwebs hung under the eaves like white fluff, and the broken wood and splintered edges cast uneven, eerie shadows in the fading sunlight. The cabin looked genuinely frightening.
Hesitantly, Alan knocked on the door, but his body was already turning to leave. Anyone with eyes could tell that Veles wasn’t home.
Yet before he could even lower his hand, the door of the silent, empty cabin creaked open.
“…”
Alan stopped breathing entirely.
…
After a long moment, a small vine peeked out from behind the door.
It was still those strange little green things that had opened the door for him.
Only then did Alan feel his heart slowly settle back into place.
“Thank you,” he said out of habit to the vine. “Is Mr. Veles not at home?” he asked.
The vine silently shook its tip, then eagerly grabbed Alan’s sleeve, forcing him to steel himself and step inside.
Alan remained silent for a moment longer.
How to put it…
He was well aware that for extraordinary people on this continent, mundane matters were of little consequence.
But he had not expected Veles’s cabin to be so utterly barren inside.
Of course, there was no dust and no cobwebs. It was clear that when entering, Veles must have used some kind of magic to completely cleanse the house. Even now, Alan could still sense a faint, icy, pristine chill lingering in the air.
The problem was that Veles’s magic seemed a little too powerful—every piece of furniture in the cabin had apparently been “cleared away.” The entire room looked as empty as a cave.
The only piece of furniture was a massive, pale blue stone in the corner.
Alan guessed it was some kind of special magical stone. Judging by its shape and size, its purpose was probably a bed.
The green vines, meanwhile, were planted in the corners of the room. When still, they blended almost perfectly with the house, but when they stretched out, they looked like giant green snakes.
…Veles really was a strange person.
Although it felt a little impolite to think so, Alan couldn’t help it after seeing Veles’s residence with his own eyes.
With the master away, even though the vines were extremely attentive, Alan still felt that something was off everywhere.
He left the food basket inside, along with a note, and intended to leave.
When the vines noticed this, they suddenly wilted.
Alan watched them droop helplessly and hesitated for a moment, then sighed and stopped in his tracks.
“Have… you not seen the sun in a long time?”
Alan had noticed when entering that these magical vines were different from the ones in the forest.
The forest vines were deep, vibrant green, with thick, healthy leaves—they looked strong and full of life.
But in Veles’s cold, empty cabin, the magical vines were thin and yellow-green. Their scales were unevenly arranged, and the leaves they grew were frail and thin—classic signs of plants that had grown without enough sunlight.
Alan wasn’t entirely sure how the plants inside magical creatures differed from real plants, but the condition of the vines still concerned him.
‘Just consider it part of my thank-you gift for Veles,’ he thought.
With that in mind, and after gaining the vine’s “permission,” he pressed his hand against the one closest to him.
Carefully, he cast his garden magic on it.
Yes—just the same garden magic he used to make eggplants, tomatoes, and pumpkins grow thick, big, and plentiful.
Almost simultaneously, deep in the forest far from Alan, a man’s expression shifted slightly. The ice blade in his hand suddenly extended, instantly wiping out all the writhing black creatures around him.
“By the Forest Goddess! Prince Veles?! Didn’t we agree you’d leave a few alive for me to bring back to the capital? The old folks in the Mage Tower are waiting to study the materials!”
Seeing the forest calm after the disappearance of the monsters, a tall, elegant man grabbed his hair in frustration and complained.
He was strikingly handsome, and his outfit was impossibly ornate. If Alan had been there, he would have been shocked to see that this man was a genuine elf, and that his attire marked him as a high-ranking member of the royal magic corps.
Veles lowered his gaze and retracted the ice blade expressionlessly. Judging by his face alone, no one would guess that the momentary outburst had been anything unusual.
“I’ll have the materials ready by tomorrow.” Veles said to the elf in an exceptionally cold tone. Considering the elf’s status, the countryside ranger’s attitude could easily be seen as overly arrogant.
Yet the elf seemed entirely unfazed.
“Tomorrow?” His attention was fully on Veles’s words. “Why tomorrow? Wait—Prince Veles, you’re not planning to stop for today, are you? That’s not like you!” He widened his eyes in shock.
“Did you sense some other disaster?!” The elf’s tone grew increasingly anxious.
As he spoke, Veles had already put away all his weapons and redraped his cloak over his shoulders.
The silver-eyed man paid no attention to his companion. He swiftly moved toward the edge of the forest, looking almost impatient.
This made the elf even more nervous.
“Prince Veles? Wait, what exactly is happening?”
Veles ignored him.
He pulled his hood lower and flicked his tail irritably beneath his cloak.
What was happening?
Of course, Veles wouldn’t answer.
The intense sensations transmitted through the dragon vines alerted Veles to a strange and unfamiliar agitation.
Alan had brought food.
Alan had entered his house.
And now, Alan was touching—touching those foolish, self-willed dragon vines!
Dragon vines were supposed to be immune to such magic, yet Alan was the first ordinary human to use healing magic on them.
Damn it!
That gentle magic, utterly harmless, had somehow amplified Veles’s perception beyond all reason.
Veles felt every nerve in his body taut with intense synesthesia. The soft, delicate human palms felt as if they were pressed directly against his skin. His skin, harder than armor, inexplicably trembled and grew warm under that gentle touch.
For so long, the curse of his damned bloodline had forced Veles to endure a relentless, soul-freezing cold. But now, with the sensations transmitted through the dragon vines, his blood seemed to ignite, gradually burning like fire.
Veles felt a surge of irritation.
That gnawing desire to bite, to devour, suddenly became uncontrollable.
He swore that once he returned, he would give that human a proper scolding. Not everyone could tolerate another mage using such strange magic on their own—their own—dragon vine!
In extreme agitation, Veles’s speed skyrocketed to a terrifying level.
He seemed to fly, moving from the perilous depths of the forest to the edge of Green River Village in no time at all, arriving in front of the little cabin.
He burst through the door with fierce momentum—and came face-to-face with Alan.
At that moment, Alan had just barely freed himself from the entangling dragon vines that had been desperately holding him back. He looked thoroughly disheveled and was about to seize the chance to head home while no one was around.
Alan: “…Ah.”
He stared in shock at the owner of the house, who had suddenly returned. After hesitating for a long moment, he stiffly forced out a smile.
“G-g-good evening, Mr. Veles.”
His greeting sounded almost like he was about to cry.
In fact, he did look like he had just been crying.
His cheeks were damp (he had sweated trying to free himself from the dragon vines).
His breathing was rapid (again, due to struggling with the dragon vines).
There were no tears in his eyes, yet they looked moist and glistening (overwhelmed and startled by Veles seeing him in such a helpless state).
Veles: “Good evening, Alan.”
Even Veles was half a beat slow to speak.
His voice was dry and hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken a word in ten thousand years.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Author’s note:
Before arriving home: I will teach that human a lesson! (Fierce and intimidating!)
After arriving home: I am the lesson! (Blushing, heart racing, little deer inside wildly jumping)
