Chapter 16.1

“It’s been a while, everyone.”

“Arad… Arad Jin! How in the world did you get here? And what’s with that absurd golden carriage?”

The elderly knight Balzac, whose white beard now extended to his collarbones, looked at me with a trembling voice.

His eyes shook even more violently than his voice, filled with a desperate hope that this wasn’t a dream, illusion, or hallucination.

“I was adrift while working on a new business in the Demonic Realm.”

“A new business…?”

“Yes, selling food in the Demonic Realm.”

“Is… is that even possible…?”

“Hahaha! It’s possible, as you can see!”

Balzac fell silent at my confident response.

When I mentioned food, every pair of eyes turned to me with the same message.

Even beneath their thick fur hoods shielding them from the cold, their stares couldn’t be hidden.

This included Grand Duke Arina.

“Arad Jin, prospective junior baron, I, Dominic, knight of Renslet, wish to…”

Balzac began to speak but was cut short by my interruption.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Oh! Aren’t you all hungry? Please wait just a moment. I’ll prepare some stew. As you know, the first bowl is always free, isn’t it?”

I cut him off deliberately, preserving the knights’ pride and dignity.

* * *

Simmering, bubbling.

To them, this was likely the first proper meal scent they’d encountered in months.

Sitting before bowls of Arad Stew, Arina and the knights seemed to lose their grip on reality, their eyes glazed over.

Slurp, gulp, munch.

Clink, clank.

Around the campfire, the only sounds were those of spoons scraping bowls and stew being devoured.

“Eat slowly, everyone. Eating too quickly after prolonged starvation isn’t good for you.”

I tried to caution them, but it was clear they weren’t listening.

“That’s only true for ordinary people. We’re superhumans, so we’ll be fine! Could I have another bowl?”

“Of course… Here you go.”

As I ladled out more stew, I scanned our surroundings.

The knights, too, instinctively remained vigilant even while eating, constantly glancing around.

This was the Demonic Realm, where a monster or hostile adventurer could attack at any moment.

Roar!

Right on cue, as the knights were finishing their second bowls, the roar of a monster echoed in the distance.

“We’ve filled our bellies; time to digest.”

“These damned monsters are as good as dead.”

The knights, as if they had been waiting for this moment, grabbed their swords.

Clang, clatter.

Their weapons, however, were in terrible condition.

“May I offer to repair your weapons?”

Unable to ignore it any longer, I retrieved my custom-made whetstone and sharpener from the carriage.

“The monsters are practically at the doorstep. After the battle, perhaps. These ones aren’t undead, so they’re much faster.”

Balzac wiped stew from his white beard with his hand and shook his head as he glared toward the direction of the monsters’ roars.

A large pack of monsters was indeed approaching—an unmistakably orchestrated monster wave.

“…”

Watching this made my anxiety grow.

The knights were still recovering, their weapons on the verge of breaking.

If their weapons shattered, they’d be forced to fight barehanded. If they were injured or killed, it would spell trouble for me.

“What choice do we have?”

Noticing my uneasy expression, Balzac shrugged.

“These corroded swords would take too long to repair properly. We’ll just have to fight while protecting them with aura.”

“Judging by their condition, they’ll break after about five swings.”

“These may look fragile, but they’re made of Northern Cold Steel. They won’t break so easily.”

The old knight tried to reassure me with a gentle smile.

“Still, trust me this once.”

“Arad Jin, prospective junior baron, it’s not that I don’t trust you. But we’re skilled enough with whetstones and sharpeners to rival most blacksmiths. I know the condition of these weapons and armor better than anyone.”

Balzac and the knights resolved themselves, stroking their swords and armor.

“These weapons and armor are crafted from Northern Cold Steel. Repairing them isn’t like fixing ordinary gear.”

“You’re absolutely right. Ordinary tools wouldn’t work on them. But do I seem ordinary to you?”

“…?”

Letting out a small sigh, I began setting up the specialized tools I had taken from the carriage.

* * *

Moments later.

Scrape, grind, clang.

Around the magically-enhanced campfire, which now served as a forge, the sound of armor and weapons being sharpened filled the air.

Sizzle, spark, clang.

The sacred heat of the magic fire turned the metal red-hot.

I sprinkled powdered monster bones and crushed magic stones onto it, creating an explosive flame effect.

Roar!

After more sharpening and vigorous polishing with chain-linked metal scrubbers, the once-rusted and corroded weapons and armor became as good as new.

What had previously looked like tetanus-inducing scrap now gleamed with a sharp, icy brilliance.

The armor, rubbed with oil and powdered ore, shone like it was brand new.

“…”

“…”

The knights stared at me in awe.

As knights, they were no strangers to maintaining weapons and armor.

But this level of craftsmanship, executed with such divine precision, was beyond anything they had ever witnessed.

“Northern Cold Steel truly is remarkable! Thanks to its quality, the repairs were quick and easy. Next!”

Having finished Balzac’s armor, sword, and axe, I moved on to another knight’s weapon.

Roar!

Meanwhile, the monsters had drawn within 300 meters.

Whinny!

The horses tied to the golden carriage began to panic at the proximity of the abyssal creatures.

“I’ll go buy us some time. Finish the repairs and join me.”

“Understood!”

Balzac, whose gear was now fully repaired, strode confidently toward the approaching monsters.

“Here you go. It’s just a quick repair, so please return after the battle.”

“Much obliged!”

Six minutes later, another knight, now equipped with repaired gear, charged off to join Balzac.

“Here it is.”

“I won’t forget this favor!”