Chapter 17: Little Green
Thanks be to the kind goddesses of this continent—they must have blessed Alan.
Even though Alan had behaved so awkwardly, Veles still agreed to his invitation.
And so Veles followed at Alan’s side toward the cabin, wearing that soft-cloth coat embroidered with gold thread.
Alan was flustered the entire way. Even he himself didn’t quite know what he was so flustered about, so he could only desperately plan the dinner menu in his head, not daring to let his eyes linger too much on Veles’s face.
And precisely because of that, there was no way he could have noticed that, at this very moment, Veles was just as unsettled as he was. Even his usually deathly pale cheeks were tinged with a very faint blush.
As was customary, the fairies popped out when Veles appeared at the doorstep.
However, when the little creatures realized that Veles had been personally invited by Alan, they immediately became noisy and furious.
Their half-transparent figures bounced about in midair as they emitted those incomprehensible chittering sounds… which sounded rather like curses.
They were, without a doubt, furious.
Even Alan was pelted with several bright red, sweet-and-tart, juicy raspberries.
But before the raspberries could hit him, he instinctively raised his hand and caught the little fruits.
Right after that, he seemed to hear Veles let out a cold snort.
“Hm?”
Veles rarely became angry over fairies’ hostility toward him, but when he saw that they had begun attacking Alan, his gaze instantly darkened.
A chill emanated from his body, and in the very next second, the aggressive fairies scattered with a bang, vanishing into the air in an instant.
“Uh… they’re not usually like this…”
Having witnessed everything, Alan awkwardly tried to explain on behalf of the fairies he worshipped.
“Mm.” Veles responded softly.
“I think they’re just not very used to having outsiders in the house. But if you give them some crushed fruit candies, they’ll cheer up again. They’ll come to like you, Mr. Veles.”
Of course, Alan had already realized that what the fairies truly rejected was Veles himself, and that made him feel a little uncomfortable… He didn’t like seeing Veles being so strongly repelled by natural creatures.
He opened his palm toward Veles.
“Want one? It’s sweet.” He said it without thinking.
By chance, he met Veles’s gaze again for a brief moment.
The silver-eyed man tilted his head slightly. Though he was an incomparably formidable ranger, the look he gave Alan carried an inexplicable hint of helplessness and softness.
All at once, Alan felt his heartbeat fall into disarray again.
“Very sweet. They always manage to find the sweetest raspberries.”
Veles forced himself to remain calm as he picked up a raspberry from Alan’s hand and put it into his mouth.
It really was very sweet.
So sweet that it exceeded what Veles could comfortably bear—the sweetness of the raspberry seemed to bypass his tongue entirely and soak straight into his mind, to the point that he even found himself thinking that Alan’s fingertips, stained red with raspberry juice, might look sweet as well…
After the small disturbance at the door, everything went smoothly.
Once again, Veles got to enjoy Alan’s delicious cooking.
The pork had been cured with salt the night before; over the course of the night, the salt and spices rubbed into its surface had made the entire cut tender and juicy. If Alan were eating alone, he would probably have simply added some oil to a cast-iron pan, seared the tenderloin until golden, sliced it up, and eaten it with a sauce made from onions and black pepper.
But today, Veles was sitting at his table.
So a small slit was cut down the middle of the pork tenderloin, and thin slices of butter were stuffed inside. Alan sprinkled cheese over the surface of the pork, then tightly wrapped the whole piece in bacon marbled with fat. He poured oil into the iron pan and heated it until it was smoking hot, then placed the pork roll inside.
With a sharp sizzle, the rich fragrance of rendered fat spread everywhere amid the crackling sparks. Before long, the pork roll began to turn golden, and faintly—through the gaps in the bacon—the creamy aroma of melted cheese seeped out.
Crushed wild scallion bulbs, garlic, and thyme were added to the pan, followed by sugar and salt, and finally, a small bottle of grape wine.
By the time the sauce had thickened to a glossy consistency, the pork roll was done as well.
It couldn’t really be called a simple roast, because it was more like a stew.
Yet an ordinary stew wouldn’t be like this one—when cut open, cheese slowly flowed out from the gaps between the bacon and the pork. The tenderloin, already exceptionally soft and juicy, gained an extra richness from the added butter, while the cheese subtly heightened its milky aroma. At the bottom of the pan, the savory brown meat juices were just right for dipping thick slices of bread. Those slices had been warmed by the lingering heat of the hearth until they were soft and fluffy, their surfaces lightly toasted to a pale golden brown.
There was cheese in the tomato salad as well, though it was mostly thick yogurt, with thinly sliced apples and cucumbers mixed in. It was wonderfully crisp and refreshing—just right for cutting through the pork roll’s overly rich flavors.
Likewise, the carrot cake tasted exactly as Alan had said it would: fragrant, sweet, and delicious.
Veles ate his fill.
He sat in Alan’s cabin, sipping the orange fruit cordial in his cup. It was a drink made by removing the bitter white pith from orange peels, then simmering the peels together with chopped pulp, sugar, and water. It was a bit like a diluted jam, but served chilled, it was pleasantly sweet and tart, exceptionally refreshing.
Veles felt a sense of satisfaction he had never experienced before.
Even though Alan’s cabin was neither spacious nor luxurious, Veles felt far more at ease here than he ever had in that opulent bunker.
After dinner, Veles sat properly at Alan’s small wooden table, waiting while Alan cleaned up the kitchen. (Veles had tried to help, but after crushing two of Alan’s plates, he was firmly—though good-naturedly—ushered out of the kitchen.)
Now, at his side sat a cup of herbal tea sweetened with honey, along with a freshly washed, fragrant sweet apricot.
He looked around Alan’s home. In this small room were countless little objects: all kinds of medicinal herbs stored in bottles, kitchen utensils polished to a shine, alchemical instruments that bore clear signs of use, and decorative items unmistakably crafted by dwarves…
As an adventurer with extraordinarily rich experience, Veles needed only a single glance around the house to accurately sketch out Alan’s daily life within these walls—
On sunny days, the young country mage would go out to the garden to tend the soil; in spring, he would harvest flower petals and tender young leaves; in summer, he would make jams; come autumn, he would likely spend long stretches smoking hams and preparing cheeses and dried fruits. In his spare time, he would use that alchemical apparatus to brew inexpensive potions for the housewives of Green River Village.
He enjoyed reading, and every so often would be struck by inspiration to carry out small-scale experiments to improve spells. He must also have some adventurer friends, and their relationship was probably quite good, because Veles could see the discreet marks of the Adventurers’ Guild from the past two years on the gifts hanging on the wall—and every single one of them was expensive. That jewelry box, for instance.
On the surface, Veles was quietly sipping his herbal tea to help flush the remaining toxins from his body. In reality, his attention was completely fixed on the silver jewelry box made by dwarves on the wall.
It had been placed in a very prominent spot, its surface polished to a bright shine—clear proof of how much its owner valued it.
The box was decorated with bas-relief carvings of grapes and pomegranates, inlaid with mother-of-pearl and a scattering of small gemstones, making it look exceedingly ornate.
Veles was certain it did not belong to Alan himself, because the thing was utterly lacking in taste.
He had seen far too many similar trinkets. Those frivolous young nobles in the royal capital were always using such flashy, hollow baubles to deceive naïve, inexperienced girls.
They spoke honeyed words, as though gold and jewels alone could prove their love. To Veles, such behavior was vulgar and foolish in the extreme.
Unbidden, Veles began to feel worried for his friend.
…Was the person who had given him that jewelry box really trustworthy? And what exactly was his relationship with Alan?
Veles had noticed long ago that, as a former adventurer, Alan was far too gentle.
Even taking into account his current identity as a reclusive country mage, he was still far too lacking in vigilance.
The special bloodline within Veles stirred restlessly once more. He wanted to protect Alan—just as a dragon would go to any lengths to protect its hoard.
“Mr. Veles?”
Alan’s voice snapped Veles out of his thoughts.
“You’re looking at this?” Alan followed Veles’s gaze to the shelf, then his eyes widened in surprise. Veles’s stare had been far too intent; it took only a moment for Alan to notice the jewelry box that Veles had nearly bored through with his gaze.
Veles stiffened instantly.
But in the very next moment, Alan smacked his own forehead and exclaimed, “Oh, wonderful—you noticed it! I’ve been worrying about this, actually. Mr. Veles, that plant you gave me insists on living in there, no matter what…”
As he spoke, Alan hopped up and took the ornate jewelry box down from the shelf.
He flipped open the lid, and a dragon vine—much plumper than before—wobbled its way out of the box, poking out its head.
Its roots were soaking in honeyed water, and it had already grown thick, fleshy roots.
It lifted its head and met Veles’s gaze. The next instant, it went completely still, just like an ordinary plant.
Now that he had confirmed Veles was a good person, Alan was naturally no longer as wary as before of the strange plant Veles had given him.
He had originally planned to plant it in his garden, but it kept getting into fights with the fairies there.
To prevent a war between plant and fairies from spreading to the other innocent plants in the garden, Alan had no choice but to move it back indoors. And then he discovered that, compared to an ordinary plant, it was more like a magical creature with a will of its own—because it very quickly began to disdain the clay pot Alan had prepared for it, and instead became utterly enamored with that ornate jewelry box.
It stubbornly moved in and insisted on using honeyed water as the base solution for its hydroponic setup, thriving with exuberant vitality.
Alan, for his part, didn’t really mind the jewelry box being turned into a flowerpot.
He was just a little worried about Little Green.
Yes—he had even given it a rather cute name.
“…I’m not entirely sure whether this way of keeping it is suitable. Magical creatures with self-awareness are really too precious; I’ve never raised one before. Still, I truly like it. Thank you for giving it to me.” Alan said this a bit uneasily.
Veles looked at Alan standing before him and silently organized his thoughts in his mind.
Dragon vine could take root even in magma. If chopped to pieces, it could grow back. It could swallow any animal smaller than itself, or swarm together to tear apart a troll rhinoceros.
“It’s very easy to take care of. You don’t need to worry about it. It’s meant to protect you,” Veles said.
He glanced at the jewelry box again. “…I’ll compensate you with a better jewelry box.”
The kind made of gold, set with enormous emeralds and rubies, inlaid with mithril magic arrays and equipped with spatial magic.
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Author’s Note:
Also, in the setting, dragon vine does have its own thoughts—but the main body can link with it in real time at any moment, and can also look back on the dragon vine’s memories whenever it wishes.
