Cooking Swordmaster [EN]: Chapter 254

Karak’s axe slammed down where Cainchel had been standing moments before, cracking the ground as if an earthquake had struck.

But Cainchel was already a dozen meters away.

Instantly, more than ten swords hurtled toward Karak like a whirlwind.

Channeling aura into both Durendal and Fragarach demanded immense energy.

However, their explosive force allowed Cainchel to overwhelm Karak for a brief moment.

“Notemoa Lamut!”

Even facing a storm of blades, Karak’s momentum didn’t falter.

His axe deflected four Fragarachs simultaneously.

Each impact sent shockwaves rippling through the air.

But no matter how powerfully he swung, he couldn’t block fourteen blades at once.

Moreover, the chilling aura of Durendal continued to slow him down.

After nearly a hundred strikes, cracks began to appear in Karak’s seemingly impenetrable defense.

‘First, the shoulder!’

Thwack!

Karak’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t believe he was taking such a critical hit again.

He’d fought many illusionary swordsmen, but this was the first time all the blades were real.

And there were so many of them.

However, Karak didn’t panic; he began to laugh maniacally.

“Kahaha! This is the first time I’ve faced someone wielding two illusionary swords like this! Crossing blades with a strong opponent is always the most enjoyable!”

Karak yanked the Fragarach from his shoulder. Blood spurted out.

He inhaled sharply, his deltoid muscles twitching and reforming.

The bleeding stopped, and his pale complexion returned to normal.

‘……Is that guy even human?!’

Karak, healed in an instant, gripped his axe and swung it wildly.

It was an absurd display of resilience.

“Damn it……, Brilliant Lord!”

Even with the Brilliant Lord’s [a technique that grants near-prescient abilities] near-perfect prediction, Cainchel could only evade Karak’s attacks.

Crack!

The Mithril armor Cainchel wore shattered under the relentless shockwaves.

It was the very armor that had saved his life countless times.

‘……Hector, I used the gift you gave me well all this time.’

Fortunately, Karak also had very little aura left.

The battle dragged on, neither able to use any major techniques.

But the longer it continued, the more it favored Karak, who had greater stamina.

Cainchel gasped, raising Durendal to deflect Karak’s Thunder Axe.

He could recover stamina and aura by eating the emergency rations frozen in his dimensional pocket.

‘Damn, there’s no opening to do so.’

A strange light flickered in Karak’s eyes.

“Kukuku. To think you’d follow me this far. But your body is reaching its limit. If you were an Orc instead of a human, I wouldn’t be so sure of my victory. Consider it an honor, then—this will be the end.”

But Karak couldn’t swing his axe.

콰콰콰콰콰쾅-!

Wings of light erupted from nowhere, instantly vaporizing two Wyvern Riders.

A wave of heat spread faster than the air could burn.

Karak groaned, dismay clear on his face.

“Tch, an interloper, is it?”

A sticky, beautiful voice echoed, as if clinging to the skin.

“Sorry, kid. I was too late.”

“……Let’s just say I was too early.”

“You always have a sharp tongue, even at times like these. Anyway, you’ve been running wild while your master was away for a bit.”

It was Elizabeth Metatron, arriving late.

She drew her sword and activated the Aura Blade Light Wings.

Karak muttered, admiring the blazing wings of light.

“Strong, human female. I never imagined Britannia possessed such powerful warriors. But it’s a shame you’re a bit old.”

Elizabeth’s aura intensified at Karak’s provocation.

“What? Old? How can you say that after seeing this wrinkle-free skin!? Just because you’re a blue-skinned freak doesn’t mean you can say whatever comes to your gaping maw! Should I give you a taste of sisterly wrath right now?”

“I’m sorry, but let’s leave that for another time. Even the bravest warrior doesn’t want to fight a battle they’re destined to lose.”

Karak whistled, and a Wyvern emerged from hiding. He leaped onto it.

“Kahaha! It’s a shame, but we should save the best dishes for later, shouldn’t we! I’ll be sure to cut off your windpipe next time we meet.”

It was as quick a retreat as it had been an appearance.

Elizabeth didn’t chase. Sorting out the chaos was more important.

“……Kid. Are you badly injured? How did you manage to shatter Mithril armor?”

“I think the accumulated impact finally took its toll. I have a broken rib piercing my lung, but it’s nothing serious.”

Elizabeth fussed over him as if she were injured.

“What do you mean it’s nothing?! Just wait. I’ll get you the best potion right away.”

Cainchel smiled faintly and shook his head.

“I’ll be fine with a few Giant Sand Worm skewers. It’s better to use the potions for the other knights.”

“Ah, um……. I see. Anyway, you’re really okay, right?”

Fortunately, no one had died, but many were seriously injured, especially Viscount Poire.

Elizabeth contacted the nearby temple and began administering first aid with the potions she had been saving.

Cainchel took out the skewers he had flash-frozen in his dimensional pocket.

Then stopped himself from activating Flamme [a fire-based skill].

‘To think I don’t even have enough aura left to light a single flame……. It really was a close call.’

If Elizabeth had been a second later, he wouldn’t be alive.

Cainchel’s body trembled.

After reaching level 99, he barely gained experience from eating.

Naturally, his stats remained the same.

He thought this was the limit a human could reach.

But now, Cainchel resolved to surpass that limit.

* * *

“The emergency treatment is mostly done, so how about trying to enter the tower?”

“But there are a lot of people waiting. Is it okay for me to use the Tower of Trials first?”

Elizabeth smiled wryly and nodded.

“It’s hard enough to endure when you’re in perfect condition. How can you enter with those injuries?”

She patted Viscount Poire on the back, who was being bandaged, hard enough to make him yelp.

“Ugh……!”

“If any of the knights want to go in first, just say the word. I’ll switch you out anytime.”

The knights receiving treatment shook their heads, pale-faced.

“If Lord Cainchel wants to go in first, we can wait as long as it takes! No matter how good the potions are, it’ll take at least a month to even start rehabilitation training!”

Only one person can enter the tower at a time.

If someone is inside, the tower won’t offer trials.

“They said so themselves, so there’s no problem, right? Besides, everyone here would have died at the hands of the Wyvern Riders if it weren’t for you, kid. They would have yielded even if they were perfectly healthy.”

They had expected to wait at least a month. But to enter right away…

Cainchel expressed his gratitude with a knight’s salute.

“Thank you for yielding. I’ll try to finish as quickly as possible.”

The injured knights became flustered and stood.

“L, Lord Cainchel, if you do that, what will we become! We were planning to receive basic physical training for the next three months before entering the tower.”

“That’s a relief, then.”

Cainchel checked his physical condition.

He had removed the shattered Mithril armor and put it in his dimensional pocket, wearing only a light tunic.

No weapons or equipment can be used inside the Tower of Trials. One must endure the trials purely with mental strength.

Perhaps because he had eaten plenty of Giant Sand Worm skewers, all his injuries had disappeared.

Elizabeth looked at Cainchel’s chest, which had been bruised black moments before, and marveled.

“Your regenerative abilities are amazing, kid. At this rate, you’re practically a troll, aren’t you?”

But she clicked her tongue, still not satisfied.

As Cainchel stared at the Tower of Trials, Elizabeth gave him advice.

“Even I, the tower master, don’t know who created the Tower of Trials. Some scholars say it was created by the Fairy King, while others say it’s the temple of a forgotten ancient god.”

The Tower of Trials.

The sanctuary of Sword Masters, existing only in Britannia.

It’s said that those who enter receive tremendous trials, and by overcoming them, they can reach a higher level.

“Perhaps that’s why Gran Karak was aiming for this place.”

“I think so too. He’s probably trying to train strong warriors to win the independence war. I’ll have to guard this place myself for a while.”

Against Wyvern Riders, Elizabeth’s Light Wings would be a formidable force.

Gran Karak probably wouldn’t get what he wanted.

Cainchel took Asura [a sentient cooking tool] out of the dimensional pocket on his waist.

“Asura, can you take care of the cooking tools while I’m inside the tower?”

“Help……!”

When entering the Tower of Trials, one is basically naked. In the old days, some didn’t even wear a thread.

However, Bishop [a symbiotic plant], clinging to Cainchel’s body, couldn’t be separated, or he might wither and die.

Cainchel stepped into the tower with a determined look.

Everything went dark, then a completely white room appeared.

There was no light source, but everything was bright.

‘Is it magic?’

It was a mysterious place, distorting and connecting space. It felt like he was inside a magic tower.

‘Bishop, do you know anything about this space? Explain…….’

Bishop should have been chattering away, but his presence was gone.

‘Hey, Bishop? Are you alive? You’re not dead, are you?’

No answer came.

Cainchel tried activating Jelly [a skill], but nothing changed.

Not only that.

Cainchel’s eyes widened as he opened his status window.

Except for level 13 Basic Swordsmanship, none of his skills remained.

‘At least my stats are still there. Does this mean I have to receive the trials completely naked?’

Before he could panic, white letters appeared.

[Welcome to the Tower of Trials.]

[You are currently on the 1st floor.]

‘If it’s the 1st floor, do I have to go up?’

A slender girl’s voice echoed.

― Oh, gee. The level of applicants these days is too low. The person who came in just now couldn’t even last 5 minutes before leaving. Of course, it’s a tower, so you have to go up……! Well, they can’t hear me anyway.

‘……Huh? Bishop?’

― Huh? Can you hear me?

‘I can hear you very well.’

― Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect an applicant who could connect to the neural network. I’m Iris, the artificial divine beast that manages the Tower of Trials.

Something had changed in Cainchel’s body, perhaps because he talked to Bishop every day.

Iris chattered excitedly.

― I’m so glad to meet you! I’ll search for what trials you need. You might feel dizzy, but cover your nose and inhale. It’ll get better.

‘…….’

How much time had passed?

A scream echoed as Cainchel thought about Iris’s identity.

― Eek! What is this?! A Sword Master?! But also a master of cooking?! How did this happen, applicant!

“It just happened that way.”

― Ugh. I don’t know what kind of trials to give you. Ah, that’s right. As a special service, would you like to choose? The trial of the sword and the trial of cooking. I’ll let you receive whichever one you want.”

A strange light flickered in Cainchel’s eyes.

It was more fruitful than expected.

Cooking and swordsmanship, both fields he wanted to improve in.

But to choose only one.

‘Originally, it would be cooking, but I can’t give up the trial of the sword to obtain the true power of the Aura Blade Signature…….’

“……Can’t I do both?”

― Huh? You’re going to challenge both cooking and swordsmanship? Hmm……. I shouldn’t allow it……. Oh, well, whatever. It’s because you’re the first person I’ve talked to in three hundred years that I’m giving you special permission. You know you can’t go around saying you received this kind of service, right?

Iris was as talkative as Magnus [another character known for being talkative].

But if he thought of it as the price for receiving two trials, he could endure it.

― Then let’s start with the ‘Trial of Cooking’ first. Now, open the door of trials……!

As Iris’s voice ended, Cainchel realized he was standing in a familiar kitchen.

Cainchel looked around to understand things.

Then, a fiery roar was heard.

“Rookie! How many times have I told you to keep skimming the scum when boiling chicken stock! What are you doing! Don’t stand there like a burnt muffin, move!”

Cainchel swallowed hard.

Standing there was a man with deep wrinkles, as if he was very displeased.

A neat chef’s uniform. Black-tinged blonde hair. Eyes filled with passion.

It was Gordon Lambolton, the former royal chef of Britannia.

Cainchel realized why this place was called the Tower of Trials.

‘That’s right. That man was definitely a trial in himself for other chefs.’