I recently found my meal times under threat.
My meal times don't follow a fixed schedule. After all, eating is simply replenishing energy, and supplying the appropriate calories based on activity level is something that can be done anytime.
From the beginning, my meals aren't driven by hunger or appetite. If I had to describe it, it's like lubricating machinery. That kind of act. Simply supplying energy because it's lacking.
So I roughly cut a nutrition bar and put it in my mouth, chewing slowly. After softening it with saliva, I wrap my molars with mana and crunch, crunch. Then gulp. My meal is finished in exactly 15 seconds.
Therefore, when I say my meal times are under threat, I mean situations like this:
"Wow! The more I eat this? Yes. The more... the more I eat it, the more delicious it becomes, Uncle! Uncle, you're such a good cook!"
Asidis shed a tear while diligently chewing and swallowing the nutrition bar.
The nutrition bar is a complete food that applies appropriate pemican-style arrangements to early hardtack methods. While nutritionally perfect, sadly, the texture cannot be perfect as well.
Hardtack wasn't originally made to be chewed. It's a convenience food meant to be soaked in water, boiled, and eaten as porridge. Just because it looks like a biscuit doesn't mean you can crunch it.
To solve this inconvenience, one uses the miraculous power of "universal resource" - mana. Wrapping mana around your molars makes chewing something like this no big deal. It extremely enhances the already strong biting force of humans relative to their body size.
"Ugh... urk... gulp."
"...You don't have to force yourself to eat it."
"Force?! What do you mean?! I... I'm someone who has never told a lie in my life! Haven't you heard of Asidis of Sincerity?"
"I didn't know."
"Well, now you do! You understand, right? Everything I say is the truth."
Asidis shed another tear while forcing a smile.
I failed...
This strategy is a failure...
She lamented while grinding her regrets (and the nutrition bar) between her teeth. It was definitely a perfect plan... A plan that Isabelle, that girl, wouldn't even dare to attempt!
Droan is a barren land.
Cool and dry summers, terribly cold and long winters, and springs and autumns that barely dip their toes in before disappearing.
Yes, an environment familiar to any 21st century South Korean citizen who would repeatedly exclaim "Wow, the weather is terrible!"
Additionally, Droan has rugged mountains and uselessly vast pastures unsuitable for farming.
Even if you try planting something in the fields, the harvest is mediocre at best. It's better to just let sheep graze there.
And in such situations, food culture naturally cannot develop. No need to mention Kalion, it doesn't even compare to Tilles, let alone Krasilov. (This is truly a serious matter.)
So, having been born and raised in such a country, she is naturally accustomed to bad food. Salt-grilled dry lamb is a luxury, and most meals consist of steamed potatoes, salted ham, or fermented herring.
Therefore, that bizarre wooden block that Ivan habitually munches on might well be within her tolerance range.
Isn't sharing the same food the fastest way to become close with someone?
It's a challenge that the weak Isabelle, accustomed to Tilles' cuisine, wouldn't even dare to dream of. After all, she was used to eating boiled tree roots. (She is the princess of Droan. It would be uncool to explain Droan's food culture any further.)
'But there's a limit to everything!!'
Her happiest moment in Krasilov was when she first spread "whipped cream" on "butter bread." My goodness, that soft sweetness.
The warriors of Droan only use the concept of "sweet" for "mead." (In fact, mead isn't sweet.) For Asidis, who was born and raised in such a world and whose only experience outside was following her father to battlefields, such "food culture" is a precious memory.
In the midst of this, eating a bizarre convenience food with the texture of stone, the stickiness of pig fat, and some unknown sour dried fruit that crumbles in the middle, tears well up in her eyes again.
"Should I... um. Should I cook something...?"
"Cook?"
"Yes, at least for, um. How about tonight? Let's eat something really delicious tonight."
This pitiful man seems to have never experienced the joy of eating in his entire life. Judging by his behavior, he might as well be a warrior from some rural part of Droan rather than from Krasilov.
Growing a bushy beard like Droan men...
"I'm busy tonight."
"What? Wait a minute. I know this pattern. You're planning to say you're busy whenever I ask when you're free, right?!"
"...? That's not the case."
Ivan was a sincere person, so there was no reason to make excuses about being busy on days when he wasn't.
Sadly, sincerity is one of those values that inherently cannot be conveyed to others. Asidis stared at Ivan with suspicious eyes for a while before nodding.
"What are you doing for the festival?"
"Spending it as usual."
Ivan's usual routine involves escorting the Hero Party's children. Since he had agreed to spend it with Isabelle, it would be the same as usual.
Asidis smiled brightly at his answer.
"Then come eat delicious food with me! The seniors were saying that so many food stalls open during the festival! They say it's the biggest festival in Pritzenkaya!"
"Let's do that."
It's the same schedule as usual. Watching these kids eat and helping them balance their nutrition isn't anything special.
Ivan nodded and stood up.
It was 3 PM. Time to respond to the princess's summons.
"Ah, Vanka. You've come. Have a seat."
Elizabeta smiled warmly and offered him a seat on the sofa.
Across the wide wooden table in the chancellor's office, Elfihera was sitting with her head bowed modestly.
Is she sick?
Ivan quickly scanned her physical signs and shook his head. Elves are weak, so it's inevitable that their condition deteriorates easily.
After all, doesn't Beolgrin also have a chronic condition that worsens whenever he sees humans?
"You called for me, Your Highness."
"Hehe, Vanka. I told you to call me Chancellor. Ah, you're already acquainted with Miss Grikenkos. I heard you performed the last mission together, and it seems Miss Grikenkos thinks very highly of you."
Elizabeta sat at the head of the sofa and smiled brightly.
At her words, Elfihera blushed, glanced at Ivan, and then bowed her head deeply again.
"I am embarrassed, Your Highness..."
"...? Why are you suddenly acting like this?"
"Has this humble one committed any offense that might displease you...?"
"How dreadful."
Elizabeta shook her head. But she could understand the behavior.
Look at Ivan. That sturdy great warrior of Krasilov is intimidating just by appearance.
Although his beard has recently been trimmed to a suspiciously smooth texture, that protruding long beard still covers half his face. As someone who knows his past, she finds it lamentable, but what can she do about his stubbornness?
And those insensitive eyes, sharp gaze, and unkempt, disheveled hair.
No, I don't understand.
The beard clearly seems to have something applied to it, but why is his hair in such a state?
Elizabeta swallowed the sudden surge of indignation and regained her composure.
In any case, it's a bit too much stimulation for a young girl. With his well-built, solid physique and appearance, plus the intimidation and sharpness built through years of actual combat, it's normal for a young girl who just turned 20 to find it difficult to even make eye contact.
Moreover, that child has directly witnessed Vanka's skills.
I heard she went with him to hunt monsters at the ruins. If she encountered even a fragment of Vanka's abilities during that process, well, it's understandable that she's so frightened.
As an adult (27 years old), I should be understanding.
Elizabeta looked at Ivan with a warm smile.
"You're aware that there's a festival coming up soon."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"I've heard that several countries plan to send envoys to coincide with it. I understand. There's no better excuse than attending an event at the school where one's children study."
The university festival at this time is not simply for students.
It's a golden opportunity for the many national guests enrolled at St. Yansk University to exert influence on each other beyond their student status.
High nobles are beasts of politics. Naturally, on such occasions, covert underwater diplomacy that cannot be conducted in their home countries becomes active.
It's quite pathetic that they use their children as an excuse, but what can one do?
Elizabeta is the princess of this country, the mistress of the Eastern Palace, the only royal blood who can project political power, and even the chancellor of St. Yansk University.
This first event since her inauguration must, without fail, end successfully.
"When I mentioned providing personal protection services to Miss Grikenkos, she immediately pointed to you. It's an elven insight, choosing the safest protector in this country."
"You flatter me."
"Nonsense. I would trust you with my life. Excessive modesty is impolite. Not just anyone could join the Royal Guard."
"..."
Elizabeta regretted seeing Ivan's expression turn cold. Ah, that was a sore spot.
"Hmm, anyway. May I ask this favor? Feel free to speak up if you have any other schedules during the festival. The counterintelligence command will be stationed throughout the university during the festival period anyway."
"I have nothing special planned."
Checking the Hero Party children's diet and accompanying them briefly is the same as his usual schedule.
Adding Elfihera to the mix won't cause any problems either.
He is such a rational person.
"Well then, I entrust her to you, Sir Petrovich."
"Mm."
She was calling me this and that just a few days ago, but her condition must not be good.
Ivan nodded briefly and left the place.
Three days before the start of the festival.
The fact that he had made appointments with three different women on the same day wasn't an important issue, so Ivan handled his backlogged orphanage work and then rested.