Chapter 25: First-Class Explorer ②
Hydrangea has several nature parks.
Even though the surrounding area is full of wilderness, there’s always danger from monsters, bandits, or thieves.
In particular, the eastern forest is deep, and that’s where the witch resides.
Because of that, the nature parks are very popular.
There’s a Hero Memorial Statue, a Hero Fountain, and even the “Heroes Assembled” monument—which is truly a breathtaking sight.
Inside one of those nature parks lies Ikoi Plaza.
Despite the name meaning “Rest Plaza,” it’s vast, and often used as a festival venue.
That plaza was now filled with triangular tents and round cottages, with a massive pavilion as well. It looked entirely like a military camp.
Men and women in matching armor were practicing drills, checking supplies, and carrying out their duties.
They were the most unusual of the unusual among explorers: the Explorer Knights.
Their appearance and conduct were indistinguishable from an actual knightly order.
Indeed, many of them were former knights or came from knightly families.
Among them, however, was a lone man in a cook’s outfit.
A muscular man, with a thick black bandana tied around his head.
Despite the less-than-ideal conditions of an outdoor setup, he hummed cheerfully as he cooked.
“Hmhm-hmm♪ Hm-hmm♪”
He peeled the skin off some thick, writhing, black tentacle, cut it into chunks, and dropped it into a boiling pot.
Next, he carefully trimmed an unidentifiable hunk of meat, removing just the fat, which he added to the pot.
Immediately, scum rose up in large quantities. He diligently skimmed it off, over and over, until it no longer appeared, then turned off the heat.
“Hmm-hmm♪ Hmm-hmm-hmm♪”
In a bowl, he whisked together a mountain of egg yolks, flour, and seasonings.
Mixing it into a dough-like consistency, he poured in a thick, slimy liquid, stirred again, then kneaded and rolled it flat with a rolling pin, before cutting it into strips.
“Jeff-dono, what on earth are you…?”
One of the cooking assistants asked nervously.
Without stopping his cutting, Jeff replied:
“Ever eaten kraken before?”
“K-Kraken?”
“It’s good. Just wait—I’ll let you taste it.”
He stretched the noodles, rolled them into balls, and dropped them into another pot of boiling water. Meanwhile, he prepared bowls.
He ladled in the contents of the first pot, then topped it with the finished noodles and stirred.
“All done. Here.”
He handed the dish to the cooking assistant.
It was a noodle dish covered in thick, black slime-like sauce.
The oily black substance clung so completely to the thick noodles that no other ingredients were visible.
“…Wh-what is this?”
“Kraken Noodles.”
“……”
The assistant froze, baffled. No matter how you looked at it, it didn’t resemble food.
But the one who had made it was that Jeff. With trembling hands, the assistant lifted his fork and tried a bite.
His entire world exploded.
“MaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!?”
His mind went blank. His hands didn’t stop. His mouth didn’t stop. Before he knew it, the bowl was empty.
When he finished, the assistant trembled.
What had he even been eating until now?
He had once been a professional chef, working at several renowned and high-class restaurants.
He had full confidence in his skills, and dishes to back that confidence.
But for the first time, he felt fear from cooking itself.
He realized he knew nothing about food.
Perhaps he had never even stood at the entrance.
He saw it—an endless abyss.
A darkness of flavor so deep that once you set foot in it, you could never return.
But the man who made it thought nothing of it, except that he’d just cooked something tasty.
“See? Damn good, right?”
Jeff laughed.
The Strange Chef—Jeff.
Incidentally, several people fell into that abyss of flavor after eating Kraken Noodles, and he was later scolded for going too far.
In the camp’s massive pavilion, a woman holding a sheet of paper let out a deep sigh.
“What the hell is this…”
Her voice was filled with frustration.
She had long hair of mingled gold and silver, and blazing golden eyes.
Her dignified yet strikingly fierce beauty was overwhelming—gorgeous, yes, but also as sharp and cutting as a blade.
She wore armor slightly more ornate than the others, as befitted her station.
For she was the very embodiment of the Explorer Knights.
The Knight Commander of the Explorer Knights—Piony Monkswood.
What she had been staring at for some time was a list of Tsukaeshi (Knight Attendants) requests.
Her own contract retainer was the young girl Hals Bindwid.
Normally, one chose someone of the same sex or from one’s own family for such contracts.
“What on earth are these women thinking?”
“These women” referred to those who had chosen Wof, particularly half of the group who, along with Piony herself, were called The Impregnable Ones.
She was well aware that she, along with seven other female First-Class Explorers, were referred to that way.
Not in a positive sense—but as Commander of the Explorer Knights, she had long discarded any notion of romance.
“Wof… I knew he was the witch’s apprentice, but…”
When she had first heard the claim, Piony laughed it off as a joke.
But it turned out to be true—and that he was male left her stunned.
Her relationship with the witch was strictly professional, based on explorer commissions.
The witch was a valued client and one of their most influential employers.
It was undeniable that the witch treated them somewhat like pawns, but even so, relations were friendly.
In recent months, however, the Knights had been away on a long campaign against the Dark Brigands, so they hadn’t taken any of her requests.
“But that’s not the real problem.”
She muttered. What troubled Piony was what came next.
Another First-Class Explorer, Alweld, had attacked the witch’s apprentice.
In retaliation, the witch had struck back and half-destroyed Alweld’s clan headquarters.
This alone was enough to give her a headache.
With the “Great of Rounds” tournament drawing near, what were the First-Class explorers doing fighting among themselves?
Hals returned to the tent.
“Captain, you’ve been so intent on something… what is it?”
“The wish sheets for appointing retainers.”
“May I see?”
“Of course.”
Piony handed Hals the wish sheet.
Hals was a girl with black cat ears sprouting from her head, a permanent jaded stare in her young eyes.
Her long, pitch-black tail was stretched straight. That jaded look only grew sharper.
“…Pakira?”
“What is it?”
“No, it’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen a wish sheet like this.”
“Nor have I.”
“Even Mr. Abramelin chose Wof, didn’t he?”
“I deliberately ignored that.”
“I think I understand why? And what about Generous’s successor also choosing him?”
“I ignored that too. I don’t want to get involved with Edda.”
“I think I understand that even more?”
Hals placed the paper down on the desk.
“DAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Outta the way, I’m coming in!”
With a booming laugh, a massive, bare-chested man entered.
His hair was golden and worn upside-down, his square jaw split by a bright, toothy grin.
Muscles bulged everywhere, his abs a perfect six-pack. But below the waist, he looked oddly narrow and small.
“Vauban. Vauban Fortress.”
“DAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Yo, Piony! Hals! You two doing well? I’m doing great! My muscles are burning hot again today! DAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
Vauban roared with laughter. Hals’s jaded eyes sank deeper still.
“Hello, Vauban. What do you want?”
“Nothing in particular!”
Vauban declared bluntly.
Piony and Hals both made faces they couldn’t quite describe.
Vauban just laughed without caring.
He was “The Human Fortress,” Vauban Fortress.
Cidre Tavern.
“D…damn it…”
Drunk, Agaro slumped forward onto the table.
At that moment, the victor was decided. The crowd erupted.
“You’re still as weak as ever, boy.”
Across from him, a flashy, rough-looking red-haired woman grabbed a bottle of cider.
Her hair was such a fiery red it seemed unnatural, wild and coarse, falling all the way down her back.
So bristly was it that even the wind couldn’t make it sway.
She looked to be in her thirties.
Her wild and rough air matched her hair, but beneath it gleamed a strikingly beautiful face.
What stood out most, however, was that her eyes were mismatched.
Her left eye was blood-red, with a vertical slit like a reptile’s — a monster’s eye.
Her other was a normal black human eye.
Her outfit was light, but her chest was so large and her shirt so open it was constantly on display.
Her tattered pants were bound with chains, which linked to the hilt of a curved sword slung across her back.
Her right arm was encased in a black gauntlet, fitted from her fingertips up to her shoulder like a suit of armor.
And sprouting from her head were two small black horns of the same texture.
“D-don’t call me a boy…”
“You’re a boy. Still, you’ve improved a little. But you’re nowhere near Arifa’s level yet. Flame Tongue would cry if it saw you now.”
“Damn… damn it all…”
Agaro groaned in humiliation, passing out from drink.
Watching his face, the woman downed the rest of her cider in one gulp.
She was “The Heroine with Dragon Eyes,” Dralov Flametongue.