Cooking Swordmaster [EN]: Chapter 233

3. Miracle Chicken and Beer

‘As expected….’

While crossing the Arabian Desert, Cainchel was attacked by a colossal golem, a Titan.

A monstrous being capable of destroying even a large fortress with a single blow.

However, thanks to the new technique ‘Fish and Chips’ and Abel’s efforts, they were able to defeat it.

Upon destroying the core, the colossal golem returned to its original form.

But unlike what it seemed, what made up its body wasn’t sand.

‘…That was definitely potting soil.’

Elves are natural gardeners. Their skills are so great that they can bloom flowers even in the snow-covered northern Britannia.

Even with the blessing of the World Tree, it was still astonishing.

Cainchel had recently been learning from Nimue how to grow delicious vegetables.

To make good dishes, good ingredients are necessary.

Nimue had said:

― To grow vegetables well, not only the blessings of the sun and water are important, but also the condition of the soil. Soil containing the nutrients needed for plants tastes different.

When his Gourmet skill reached 6 stars, Cainchel’s tongue became so sensitive that it was almost absolute.

He could even read changes in the other person’s emotions through the concentration of their sweat.

However, even that couldn’t provide information about the soil.

At best, he could only sense the mustiness of rotten leaves mixed with rainwater.

‘It seems that obtaining information through the taste of soil is impossible for anyone but an elf….’

In any case, what’s important now is whether the colossal golem and the Stone Statue of Allah taste the same.

That was easily possible without relying on the Gourmet skill.

And after tasting it several times, the conclusion was always the same.

‘No information is displayed in the status window, but I trust my tongue. This definitely tastes the same…. The identity of the statue that gave the oracle is definitely a golem made by Zoid!’

At that moment, something unimaginable happened.

Ting-

[Acquired the elven sense of taste that perceives the taste of soil, sand, wind, and river water.]

[Gourmet level has increased.]

“……!”

Cainchel stared blankly at the status window that appeared before his eyes.

The number of stars indicating the proficiency of the Gourmet skill had increased to 7.

‘What, my Gourmet skill really went up?!’

It is said that elves taste the soil with their tongues. He followed suit, and his Gourmet skill increased.

To think that Gourmet would reach 7 stars before cooking.

Cainchel once again ate the soil created when the Stone Statue of Allah was destroyed.

Then, things that he hadn’t seen before appeared before his eyes.

[Potting Soil]

* Artificially created soil processed to be suitable for cultivating horticultural plants such as flowers and vegetable crops. The particles of the constituent materials are alive, providing good aeration and water retention, and are well-suited for cultivating any type of plant.

* Rich in organic matter and nutrients, it can grow most crops such as potatoes, carrots, wheat, and barley if only enough water is supplied.

‘…This is amazing!’

To think he would gain the elven sense of taste in this way.

It was a moment that made him feel rewarded for coming all the way to the southernmost part of the distant continent.

Abdullah, who had been anxiously waiting for Cainchel’s analysis to end, asked,

“Cainchel, did you find out anything? Judging from your expression, it seems you have obtained something very wondrous.”

“Yes. I have obtained something I never imagined before.”

When he explained that he had gained the elven sense of taste, Abdullah’s eyes widened.

“Hahaha. I never knew elves had such an ability. There’s a reason they’re called guardians of the World Tree.”

It was something that even Abel, who had become almost a complete elf, couldn’t do.

Her body had transformed into an elf, but her sense of taste was still close to human.

‘To think I would be surpassed by Cainchel in elven abilities in this way.’

Having steeled himself, Cainchel told Abdullah and Abel the information he had obtained using the elven sense of taste.

Then, the smile disappeared from Abdullah’s face.

“What exactly are you saying? Then the Stone Statue of Allah….”

“Probably, with a high probability, it’s a golem made by the alchemist of stone dolls [referring to Zoid]. He made such a large one, so a small statue size would be much easier.”

Crash-!

The aura that burst out of Abdullah’s anger cracked the floor he was standing on.

If Zoid had been in front of him, he would have devoured him alive.

“You said he was definitely hiding deep underground. I’ll go get that guy right now…!”

Cainchel shook his head with cold, calm eyes.

The Sultan, whom he had served all his life, had lost his life after being deceived by a mere golem.

He knew very well how angry Abdullah was without even hearing it.

“But for Sinbad’s sake, we must not act rashly. Surely you’re not thinking of fighting Zoid, who controls the colossal golem, in Byzantium?”

Abdullah’s eyes widened at the mention of Sinbad.

Perhaps he was reminded of the former Sultan’s last request to take good care of his son.

“…I never thought this body would show such a disgraceful sight. I’m sorry. I need to cool my head for a while.”

In the end, the identity of the oracle was revealed, but it tasted bitter.

Now it was time to find Scheherazade’s whereabouts.

Abel, who had been comforting Abdullah, asked,

“But there’s one strange thing. Why is potting soil needed to make a golem?”

Then, as if waiting for it, Bishop popped out.

Abel’s eyes sparkled. At first, it was disgusting, but the more she looked at it, the more strangely cute it felt.

“I’ll explain the reason. Cough, cough! I’m sorry, but please don’t touch my body. Anyway, even if you use the dragon’s mana, moving a golem of that size is theoretically impossible. Unless you have a dragon heart or a philosopher’s stone.”

In the end, Zoid had touched the authority of an ancient god forgotten since the mythical era.

The Great Earth Mother, Demeter [Greek goddess of agriculture, harvest, and fertility].

A god who presides over agriculture, farming, grains, and crops, whose identity is said to be the vast earth itself.

“…Then, if you have fertile soil, you can use the power of God?”

“I don’t know how Zoid is using it. But soil in which crops grow well is like Demeter’s avatar. There must be some connection.”

Bishop finished his story, saying that he needed to investigate a little more.

‘An alchemist who has obtained the power of the Great Earth Mother.’

A strange light flashed in Cainchel’s eyes.

For crops to grow well, not only fertile soil but also sufficient rain is needed.

Perhaps Zoid is involved in Scheherazade’s disappearance.

Now it was time to find out.

* * *

Scheherazade’s residence is deep in the harem.

It was a place so devoid of decoration that it even felt businesslike.

Only the mountain of books piled up seemed to hint at her tastes.

Cainchel cleared away the unconsumed cola bottle and examined the documents on the desk.

It was a petition from people suffering from the lack of rain.

It seemed that Scheherazade was directly selecting the places where rain should fall.

Abdullah sighed with a pitiful expression.

“When the late Sultan was alive, he bore all the burdens. But the current Sultan, who should be taking over that role….”

What must Scheherazade have felt reading the petitions?

The power of the Rain Master is limited. She couldn’t make it rain enough to satisfy everyone.

She only gives those who are dying of thirst enough water to wet their lips. She had to repeat that endlessly.

A document with ink smudged as if it had been soaked came into Cainchel’s view.

If he tasted it, wouldn’t he feel a heartbreakingly salty taste?

But there was a magazine mixed among the documents.

The cover seemed familiar, it was Gentleman’s Magazine, famous for Goethe’s reviews [a fictional magazine in this context].

‘Scheherazade was also a fan of Goethe. As expected of a great writer…. Ugh, there’s a review about chocolate ice cream?!’

Moreover, the recently released Gentleman’s Magazine had a detailed description of ‘Scallop Steak’ spanning a whopping 5 pages.

The description was so realistic that he could almost smell the savory aroma of well-grilled scallops.

But only that page was stained black with fingerprints.

She must have read it dozens, if not hundreds, of times.

‘At this point, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that she wanted to eat the dishes I made.’

Cainchel asked the question that Zeke used to say like a habit.

“Is this the last place Scheherazade was seen?”

“That’s right. To prevent her identity from being exposed, she spent most of the day here. She even kept the number of maids attending her to a minimum.”

After she disappeared, they said they hadn’t touched a speck of dust here.

Abel examined the cola bottle on the desk and said,

“She put soil in it and put flowers in it. I think I know how addicted she is to cola.”

There were over twenty such cola bottles.

Scheherazade disappeared just after noon.

She was sitting at her desk writing a letter to Cainchel.

But the scene was too clean to think that she had been kidnapped by an unidentified assailant.

“It seems highly likely that it was the work of an acquaintance.”

Then Abdullah panicked and retorted.

“Th, that can’t be! Only people with confirmed identities can enter the harem. I’d rather believe that a highly skilled assassin sneaked in….”

“Then there would be some trace left.”

“Aren’t there assassins who use anesthetic needles to kidnap dignitaries? They must have knocked Scheherazade unconscious in an unseen place and taken her away.”

Cainchel shook his head.

There was irrefutable evidence left at the scene.

“You see the cola bottles filled with soil on the desk, right? If she had been hit by an anesthetic needle and collapsed, what would have happened to these?”

“……!”

Surely the desk, as well as the carpet on the floor, would have been a mess with soil.

In the end, Scheherazade must have walked out of this room on her own.

Did she really run away to eat Cainchel’s cooking?

“It seems we need to hear the details of the situation from the maid who last saw Scheherazade.”

Abdullah nodded and signaled to the servant waiting outside the door.

Then, a brown-skinned beauty whom he had seen a few hours ago came inside.

Although her face was covered with a translucent veil, he could tell how beautiful she was just from that.

“This is Jasmine, the chief maid. She is a trustworthy person from a family that has served the royal family for generations.”

Jasmine bowed politely to Cainchel. The eyes revealed through the veil were unbelievably attractive.

To be in charge of the royal chief maid, she must be at least the daughter of an earl.

They don’t just serve. They are assistants, attendants, and even guards in emergencies.

In other words, they are talented people who are both literary and military.

As Cainchel stared blankly at Jasmine, Abel coughed and said,

“Didn’t you say you had something to ask? Time is of the essence. It would be better to hurry.”

“…Then let’s start the questioning. Jasmine. I heard you are serving Scheherazade. And you are also the last person to see her.”

“Yes, that’s right. Scheherazade was sitting at her desk doing her work as usual that day. She disappeared while I went to replenish the ink needed for the paperwork.”

Cainchel asked in detail about the situation at that time.

Jasmine answered with a calm expression that there was no suspicious person and that she had not heard any sound.

“A perfect answer. That’s what’s so strange about it. But I’ll ask just one more thing. Have you had lunch today?”

“Yes? Why is that….”

Cainchel replied with a nonchalant expression.

“I was wondering if I could make you something if you haven’t eaten. I’m very confident in my cooking skills.”

Jasmine often received advances from male dignitaries who visited the royal family.

She usually politely refused, but she felt a strange atmosphere different from them in the man in front of her.

“Ah. I’m sorry, but we eat early. That way, we can be next to the person we serve while they are eating. If it’s okay with you, could I ask you in the evening?”

“Um, really? What did you eat for lunch?”

Jasmine, thinking that he was curious about her favorite food, smiled brightly and answered.

“A little bread and vegetable soup…. It’s hard to work if you eat too much.”

Abel, who had been staring out the window with an indifferent expression, started pinching her thigh for some reason.

It was as if she was forcibly suppressing something she wanted to do.

Cainchel smiled and said,

“Really? That’s strange. It looks a little different to me. Then, this time, let’s do an interrogation instead of a question. Jasmine. Why are you lying?”

“Yes? What do you mean….”

“Two things, in fact. What you went to get wasn’t ink. Scheherazade was using a quill pen. Once you sharpen the tip, you can use it for about a week. Judging from the blotting sand in the room to dry the ink, you wouldn’t use other writing instruments, would you?”

“That’s right. You have great observation skills.”

“I have a self-proclaimed detective among my companions. I learned a lot from that person. Anyway, would someone who prepares so thoroughly ask for ink to be replenished while writing a document? Especially around noon when they should be working hard.”

“Even the most cautious person sometimes forgets something, doesn’t they? Scheherazade must have….”

Cainchel chuckled and took out an unconsumed cola bottle and handed it to Jasmine.

“Scheherazade doesn’t throw away the cola bottles she’s finished drinking and uses them for other purposes. Would you like to drink what’s in there to see if it’s cola?”

Jasmine opened the bottle cap with a shocked expression and smelled it.

It wasn’t cola, it was ink.

“Why would she ask for a refill when there’s so much ink left in the room like this? Besides, you lied about one more thing.”

Cainchel had noticed it from the moment Jasmine entered the room.