MTM 147

“The stew is here! Who ordered the chicken?”

“Oh, right here!”

Harto raised his hand excitedly. As the steaming hot stew was placed before him, a rich, savory aroma wafted up to his nose. His eyes sparkled at the sight of the stew, filled with big chunks of meat and plump, well-cooked vegetables. It was a bountiful spread unlike anything they’d ever seen at the Carseon Castle’s dining hall, and all four people at the table let out exclamations of admiration as they picked up their spoons.

Clink.

“Harto, eat this.”

“…Huh?”

Harto was about to take a spoonful of broth, but Zed pushed his stew bowl toward Harto and swapped it with his own.

“This one has more chunks.”

“Whoa! No, Zed, you eat this. I’ve got plenty!”

“No way.”

Harto tried to return the bowl, feeling guilty, but Zed was firm. He even took the spoon Harto was holding and swapped it for his own, using the ridiculous excuse that his spoon was cleaner.

“Mine looked clean too…”

“It’s not clean. Eat with this.”

“Oh, I see… Thanks, Zed…”

Faced with Zed’s firm stance, Harto could no longer refuse and ended up scooping up the stew with the spoon Zed handed him.

“Let me know if you want more, Harto.”

Zed smiled affectionately as usual, but his eyes watched Harto’s every move with the same intensity as the gaze of a hawk.

“Yes…”

He should have felt grateful for Zed’s thoughtful care, but Harto’s stomach churned with discomfort.

‘This is strange. Why does my heart keep feeling heavy when Zed cares for me so much…?’

Haruto chided himself and tried hard to focus on the taste of the stew.

“How’s the lodging at Carseon Castle?”

Just then, Ser, who had been watching the two of them from across the table, asked.

“It’s very quiet and comfortable. What about you, Ser? Is the inn you’re staying at now livable?”

“Yes, it’s a bit cramped, but it’s clean. It’s not bad for a few days.”

Harto nodded at Ser’s reply and shifted his gaze to Allen sitting next to him.

“Allen… did you manage to get what you needed?”

Worried that someone might be eavesdropping, he asked about the liquor in a roundabout way.

“Well… I didn’t really find anything worth mentioning.”

Allen replied in a voice that betrayed his exhaustion, but instead of looking at Harto, who had asked the question, he stared at Zed, visit our sitewho was sitting next to him. In fact, he’d been feeling queasy for a while now because of the strange atmosphere surrounding Zed.

‘Why is that guy so upset?’

Allen had known Zed for a long time. That was why he could pick up on the slightest changes in him faster than anyone else. Zed was being overly dramatic right now. His obsessive attempt to keep even the smallest details under his control, especially regarding Harto, was unlike him.

Was it because of the Seeker’s identity and the note before they came to the restaurant? Or perhaps something had happened between the two of them that he didn’t know about. He was curious, but he felt that bringing it up here would only make things worse.

Allen decided to lighten the stifling atmosphere, if only for Harto’s sake.

“Anyway, take a look at this.”

He pulled a bundle wrapped in cloth out of his bag and laid it on the table. As he unwrapped the cloth, a luscious cluster of purple grapes emerged. The grapes were so big and fresh that their skins gleamed, as if they’d just been picked.

“Wow, grapes…!”

“Whoa, where did you get these? Don’t tell you stole them?”

As expected, Harto and Leon’s eyes widened in unison. Leon, in particular, stared at the bunch of grapes with intense curiosity, forgetting even to wipe the stew sauce from the corner of his mouth.

“Come on, steal? Of course this is…”

“We got it.”

Before Allen could retort, sounding indignant, Ser interrupted him.

“You just got these precious grapes? At a time like this?”

Leon asked with a skeptical look.

“Yes. We were wandering around behind the village, and helped some people at a nearby farm move boxes of grapes onto a cart. They gave us two bunches of grapes to repay their gratitude. We ate one on the way here, and I brought the other one for you. Right, Allen?”

Ser made up a plausible story without batting an eye. After all, it was best to keep the strange events at Cynthia’s vineyard and Lior Albas’s prophecy from Harto, just as Zed had wanted.

“Yes, Ser’s right. We did put in a little work.”

Allen chuckled. It was obvious that telling the truth would only make the atmosphere even more ominous. Even now, Zed hadn’t even touched the grape Harto had handed him; he was just radiating a terrifying aura as he lost himself in thought.

In fact, his purpose in pulling out the grapes wasn’t simply to lighten the mood.

“Hey, eating them like this is fine, but… isn’t it a bit of a waste?”

Allen brought up the subject as he watched Harto and Leon carefully pluck a grape each, put them in their mouths, and chew thoughtfully.

“Ser, since we have all the ingredients, how about we try making ‘that’ right here?”

“What? Here?”

Ser raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

Allen had long since given up on finding moonshine in Carseon. Instead, since he’d managed to get some grapes, he was pestering Ser to use his alchemy to distill “alcohol” on the spot. He wanted to put aside the headache-inducing issues of the Fragments of the Demon God and prophecies for the moment and simply quench his immediate thirst.

“I always carry the ingredients in my bag, so that shouldn’t be a problem….”

Seeing Ser’s hesitant reaction, Allen whispered softly.

“…It’s just to lighten the gloomy mood, that’s all. Nothing else.”

“……”

Ser, too, felt uncomfortable due to the strange pressure radiating from Zed. He doubted this would actually lighten the mood, but more than anything, he was concerned about Harto, who was nervously picking at his stew while keeping an eye on Zed.

“…Just this once. Next time, you won’t even get the broth.”

In the end, Ser, unable to resist Allen’s nagging, opened his bag. He took out a glass bottle filled with unidentifiable dried herbs, sugar, and water, and placed it on the table.

“Huh? Aren’t these magical herbs?”

To the average person, they might just look like a bunch of dried weeds, but Leon, a mage, recognized them immediately.

“That’s right. Leon, can you use magic to turn this water into distilled water? I need the purest form of water to perform alchemy.”

“That’s not difficult.”

At Ser’s request, Leon reached out, and the water in the bottle rippled. Once its impurities were filtered out, the water, began to glow with a clear light. Ser nodded in satisfaction.

Clink.

Ser downed the lemon juice he’d ordered with his stew in one gulp, then placed three grapes, some herbs, sugar, and the water Leon had distilled into the empty glass. Soon after, the red symbol marking him as an alchemist appeared on his forehead. As Ser murmured something, ripples appeared and disappeared several times within the glass.

“It’s done.”

“Huh? Already?”

It had been barely a minute. The liquid in the glass still glowed with a transparent light, and to the naked eye, no major changes were apparent.

“Everyone keeps mistaking me for something else, but I’m not a mage, you know?”

Ser replied, fully aware of the skeptical glances from the group, and pushed the glass toward Allen.

“It might look the same on the surface, but its ‘essence’ has definitely changed. Take a sip.”

Although Allen was well aware of Ser’s abilities, he picked up the glass and drank it with a skeptical look. Immediately afterward, his face contorted like crumpled paper.

“Well? Show me a reaction.”

Under Ser’s prodding, Allen remained silent for a long moment before slowly setting the glass down.

“…It’s bitter.”

As Allen mumbled, his expression began to soften. Then, joy suddenly flooded his face.

“It’s bitter! It’s bitter! Damn it, Ser! You’re the best!!”

Allen let out a loud shout and stood up to hug Ser. Ser grimaced and tried to push him away, but faced with Allen’s genuine joy, he eventually sighed and gave in.

“Wow, that’s great! Right, Zed?”

Watching the two of them make such a racket, Harto smiled at Zed.

“You’re right.”

Zed replied briefly with a smile. But the smile on his lips didn’t last long. He took advantage of a moment when Harto wasn’t looking to reach under the table, and squished a grape before tossing it onto the floor.

***

“That bastard Leon, ugh… He’s a real master at ruining the mood.”

Allen clicked his tongue and grumbled. Before they realized it, darkness had descended.

The table was littered with uneaten food, scattered as if a storm had swept through. This was because they had been ordering one thing after another to go with the alcohol Ser had made on the spot.

Every time they ordered additional items, a waiter would approach with a suspicious look, but upon realizing there was no smell of alcohol, they would tilt their head in confusion and walk away. Unlike ordinary alcohol, Ser’s drink had no scent and produced only a faint buzz, making it perfect for evading Carseon’s strict surveillance.

The problem was that Leon drank it as if it were were plain water when the group looked away for a moment.

Since Leon had no tolerance for alcohol, they found themselves in a bind when he got drunk. It was as clear as day that bringing him back to the castle in his current state would cause an unnecessary commotion.

In the end, Harto and Zed decided to return ahead of the others, while Leon would spend the night at the inn where Allen and Ser were staying.

“Ugh, why is this guy so heavy…?”

Allen hoisted Leon, who was slumped limply like a sack of potatoes, onto his shoulder, while Ser waved goodbye to the other two.

“Be careful on your way in!”

Harto also waved energetically at the three figures receding into the distance.

Just then, Leon, who had been slumped limply on Allen’s back, opened one eye slightly and gave Harto a sly wink.

“Huh…?”

Harto’s eyes widened. Only then did he remember Leon’s earlier bold declaration about “his role”. Leon had been scheming all along to create some alone time for Zed and Harto.