Cooking Swordmaster [EN]: Chapter 232

Abdullah began his story, his voice filled with lingering amazement as he recalled the events.

“Beneath Byzantium lies a royal tomb, a sacred place where past Sultans are enshrined. Though their bodies may return to dust, we believe their souls remain, eternally protecting the Ottoman Empire.”

At the tomb’s entrance stood a statue, crafted in the likeness of Allah.

The very title of Sultan signifies ‘authority derived from Allah.’

Yet, this statue of Allah moved and spoke directly to the late Sultan.

“The oracle’s message was simple: The Sultan, the late Mustafa II, was to abstain from food and drink and show reverence to Allah through a grand act of devotion.”

“What exactly was he supposed to do?” Abeel inquired.

“In the Ottoman Empire, we have a tradition where the Sultan performs ten thousand bows during severe droughts.”

Ten thousand bows.

Rituals performed in the hope of rain are diverse.

Most involve appeasing an angered deity.

Sometimes, a member of the royal family marries the river god Anuket, or even offers a human sacrifice.

“Humans and gods…”

Abeel wondered how such unions were possible.

Abdullah chuckled, offering a straightforward explanation.

“First, a young and healthy royal is chosen for the ritual. He is anointed with sacred olive oil and taken to the river where the goddess Anuket is said to reside. Then, he removes his pants…”

“…I think I’ve heard enough,” Abeel interrupted, a sigh of dismay escaping his lips as he shook his head.

He had hoped to gain insight into the union of humans and gods, but this was unexpected.

“Considering that, ten thousand bows seems like a very normal ritual,” Abeel commented.

“But this time, Allah, who appeared, declared that the usual number of bows would not suffice. He demanded a total of 66,666 bows from the late Sultan.”

“…Almost 70,000 times,” Abeel repeated, astonished.

It was a staggering number. Even ten thousand bows would consume an entire day without rest.

Moreover, the ritual required complete abstinence from food and drink.

“Yet, the Sultan accepted. He declared he would walk barefoot through the fires of hell to save his people from the drought. Besides, would Allah ask the impossible?”

Mustafa II typically drank little water. He believed he could endure a week with his willpower.

Suddenly, Bishop popped out from Cainchel’s crotch.

― Crazy. That’s completely insane. Humans die if they don’t drink water for just three days. Unlike other nutrients needed to maintain the body, moisture is quickly depleted.

‘…But I heard that the former Sultan once lasted nearly ten days without drinking water? How is that even possible?’ Cainchel wondered.

― He didn’t drink only water, but he ate some other food, albeit a little. He must have survived on the moisture contained in it.

Cucumbers, lettuce, tomatoes.

Most vegetables and fruits common in the Ottoman Empire are mostly water.

Moreover, it seems the goddess Anuket’s interest in the Ottoman royal family was reciprocated.

― I sense a faint divinity from that brat Sinbad’s body. Clearly, one of his distant ancestors must have been blessed by a god.

The blessing of the goddess Anuket.

It is said that those who receive it gain control over water and can predict the weather to some extent.

However, no matter how great the blessing of a god, it becomes diluted when mixed with human blood.

Now, he could only last slightly longer than others without drinking water.

That clouded Mustafa II’s judgment. He thought he could endure it for a week.

He failed to account for the moisture lost through sweat.

“The Sultan performed 60,000 bows in just five days. At first, he sweated profusely, but soon his expression turned as serene as a calm lake. Until then, I thought he would transcend human limitations and perform a miracle.”

Abdullah’s body trembled as he spoke.

“But it was a delusion! The reason he wasn’t sweating was simply because there was no moisture left in his body! The Sultan’s body was already in a state where he could die at any moment…!”

After completing approximately 66,000 bows, Mustafa II raised his head and looked at Abdullah’s face.

He smiled and said.

― Abdullah. It feels unusually hot today. I think I can trust you with this. My son… Please take good care of Sinbad.

Mustafa II closed his eyes, never to wake again.

In the end, he had exhausted all his strength, falling about 700 bows short of the number demanded by Allah.

Abdullah screamed in despair.

“This body! This body…! I watched the Sultan die before my eyes and could do nothing! I swore to give my life to protect the Sultan!”

After that, he tried to take his own life several times, but he couldn’t.

The Sultan’s last order, no, a request, remained.

Abdullah continued, looking at Sinbad, who was still tilting his head with an innocent face.

“…The current Sultan has been very sickly since he was young. Only now that he has recovered his health to some extent is he learning what is necessary as a Sultan. But the fact is that he is still lacking.”

The great drought that had lasted for over ten years and the death of the late Sultan. Moreover, even the disappearance of the wizard Scheherazade.

It was too heavy a burden for a young boy to bear.

“Moreover, as food became scarce, the meat wars intensified in various regions.”

“Meat wars, what does that mean?” Cainchel asked.

“Unlike the northern regions that worship the monotheistic Deus [God], the Ottoman Empire worships many gods, like the river goddess Anuket.”

Originally, the Ottoman Empire itself is said to have started from a union of several tribes.

But the problem was that each religion had different doctrines.

In Byzantium, cows, which Allah is said to ride, are considered sacred. Moreover, as the population increased and agriculture gradually expanded, the importance of cows for plowing grew.

Eventually, eating beef became taboo.

“In comparison, there are those who do not eat pigs because they resemble demons. In the Ottoman Empire, it is called the ‘meat war.’ It was fine when it rained and the forests were lush. Each person could simply live according to the doctrines of their religion. But problems arose when everything became scarce.”

Hundreds of cows, which Byzantium was carefully raising, have been stolen in the last six months alone.

“If things continue like this, a civil war will really break out, as the jokingly used title suggests. And that’s because of pork and beef. Because of which one is right to eat.”

The great drought and the death of the late Sultan.

Lack of food and intensifying religious conflicts.

Moreover, even the alchemist Zoid, the creator of the stone doll, hiding deep underground.

Numerous problems gathered together and became a swirling storm.

If things continue like this, the castle built by countless people adding handfuls of sand will collapse.

Cainchel felt a headache coming on and put his hand on the back of his head.

If Detective Zeke were here, he would have given some brilliant advice.

If the vampire Le Mans were here, he could have easily reached the truth of the incident using his mystic eyes.

But now, only Cainchel and Abeel were here.

‘Can we really solve these many problems with just the people here? Would it be better to ask for support from Britannia or El Agrad…?’

Abeel, who had been quietly listening to Abdullah’s explanation for a while, opened his mouth.

“Cainchel. I want to help Abdullah and Sinbad. For some reason, they don’t feel like strangers. The Ottoman Empire, which is a collection of many tribes, and the Gistad territory, which is a collection of many races. Besides, we’ve already solved a dispute over food once, haven’t we?”

“……!”

Elves who can’t even eat meat, let alone eggs.

Dwarves who can only say they’ve had a meal when they’ve eaten their fill of alcohol and meat.

It was Cainchel’s cooking that brought harmony between the two very different races.

If you think of it as a problem with cooking, the answer was already out.

“…Thank you, Abeel. Thanks to you, I was able to make up my mind. Then let’s start by organizing the problems we need to solve first.”

“Well, that’s what Cainchel should be like.”

Abeel smiled brightly like a flower blooming and nodded vigorously.

* * *

Cainchel divided the problems facing the Ottoman Empire into three main categories.

First, the great drought and the disappearance of Scheherazade.

It can be solved by finding out the cause of the great drought or finding the missing Scheherazade.

“Next is the super-large golem.”

Deep beneath Byzantium, the capital of the Ottoman Empire.

Who would have known that the workshop of Zoid, the creator of the super-large golem, would be right here.

If a full-scale war breaks out, the lives of countless people living in Byzantium will be in danger.

He had to capture Zoid without being detected as much as possible.

Finally, the meat war.

It is resolved by deciding which is right to eat, beef or pork.

“The first thing we need to do is to find traces of Scheherazade. Then Cainchel. How about going to the place where she disappeared first?” Abeel suggested.

Finding Scheherazade is the most urgent thing. But Cainchel shook his head.

No matter how much he thought about it, there was something that bothered him.

‘Surely the death of the late Sultan is related to the great drought. But is that all there is to it?’

Cainchel looked at Abdullah, who looked ten years older in half a day.

Something was vaguely coming to mind. He wanted to make it clear.

“You said that the statue modeled after Allah moved and even spoke, right?”

“That’s right. I would never have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“Has the same thing happened before?”

Abdullah thought for a moment and shook his head.

“No. This is the first time. What’s the problem with that? I thought it was because the great drought was such a big problem that Allah had to step in himself.”

“Let’s go there first. There must be something left.”

“Hmm… I’m sorry, but the Sultan has to give permission for that.”

The royal tomb was only accessible to the royal family or the Janissaries [elite Ottoman soldiers], who were their bodyguards.

Then Sinbad, who was eating snacks in Abeel’s arms, raised both hands.

“How did you make it so delicious! If you promise to make it again, it’s okay to enter the royal tomb!”

“Then I’ll make Mont Blanc this time.”

“……What is Mont Blanc?”

“It’s a pastry made with marron cream made from chestnuts, meringue, and Chantilly cream with plenty of sugar. It is made by piling up dark brown marron cream like a snow-covered mountain, and it is sweet and really delicious.”

Sinbad nodded, his eyes shining as if he had imagined the appearance of Mont Blanc.

In this way, Cainchel was able to easily obtain the Sultan’s permission with just one snack.

Arriving at the entrance of the royal tomb, Cainchel looked for the statue that had given the oracle.

But it was nowhere to be seen.

Abdullah explained the reason.

“Allah borrowed the statue to give the oracle and then returned to sand.”

“Sand, you say? Then is the sand still there?”

“That’s… It’s sacred sand that God resided in, so it’s kept separately. I’ll have a servant bring it.”

A stone statue modeled after Allah speaks and moves. Then anyone would think of it as an oracle.

But what came out of his mouth was an impossible task that a human body could never accomplish.

Maybe the identity is….

“Cainchel! I brought it here!”

It was a brown-skinned beauty wearing revealing clothes who brought the glass bottle containing the sand.

Cainchel coughed several times and accepted it.

It really looks like sand on the outside. But if you taste it, you’ll know its identity.

‘Then where….’

Lick-

When he put his tongue to the sand, the gourmet skill told him the secret contained in it.