32. Missions Can Wait

“A toast to our newest companion, Shiroru—cheers!”

Following Rei’s lead, we all raised our glasses. “Cheers!”

“C-Can I eat now? I’m digging in! Munch, munch.”

Shiroru, who had been forced to wait for the toast, immediately set to work on the feast. I’d ordered quite the spread today, so the table was practically buckling under the weight of the food. I wasn't sure exactly how much a Holy Beast could pack away, but I was determined to see him satisfied.

After our audience with the Guild Master, we’d regrouped with Mil and the others and headed straight for the Wildcat Inn Dining Hall. Celebrating here was quickly becoming a tradition. The food was excellent, and the atmosphere was usually calm. Since it was more of a restaurant than a tavern, the heavy drinkers might have found it lacking, but for us, the absence of rowdy drunks was a major plus.

In the Kingdom of Lievril, adulthood begins at sixteen. Currently, the oldest members of Glory’s Steps were Rei and Mil, and since they were both only fifteen, our party didn't technically have a single adult in it.

While there weren't any formal laws regarding age limits for alcohol, custom dictated that children shouldn't indulge. Consequently, our celebratory toast was made with Grape Juice.

“Oh, what is this? It’s delicious!”

“Ah! Shiroru! Your face is a disaster! Stay still, let me wipe that off.”

“O-Oh? Thanks, Halfa. This stuff is great, but it’s a bit tricky to eat.”

Shiroru was currently enamored with the Rabbit Meat Stew, the Wildcat Inn’s signature dish. It was a masterpiece—tender chunks of rabbit simmered for hours in a thick, savory brown sauce. It really was spectacular; I could sympathize with his single-minded devotion to the bowl.

The problem was that Shiroru was eating directly from the plate, which meant the white fluff around his muzzle was now stained a dark, messy red. It looked like a scene from a horror movie. Halfa was doing her best to clean him up, but the stains were stubborn. I’d have to hit him with a Clean spell later.

“You’re supposed to use the spoon to scoop it up, like this,” Mil said, demonstrating. “Though I suppose that might be a bit much to ask of you.”

“Oh, I use this? Well, that would certainly keep me clean!”

To our surprise, Shiroru actually started using the spoon quite deftly. He wasn't using his paws, of course—he was manipulating the utensil with his [Telekinesis] skill. I was just starting to feel impressed by his fine motor control when the spoon missed his mouth and jammed straight into his nose.

“Pugya!? Gwah, that’s hot!”

“Oh dear! Here, let me help!”

Sally was on it in a flash, casting First Aid to soothe the minor burn. It seemed delicate tasks with [Telekinesis] were still a bit of a challenge for the little guy. Then again, given how much he loved to eat, I had a feeling he’d master it in no time.

As the lively meal continued, I filled Mil, Sally, and Halfa in on what had happened during our meeting with the Guild Master.

“Hmm. I see,” Mil mused. “But our basic plan doesn't really change, does it?”

“Right,” Rei agreed. “At most, we just need to be a bit more thorough when looking for hidden passages or hidden rooms.”

Just as they said, our overall strategy remained the same. We’d been asked to find the Prayer Stone of Benevolent Rain, but without any solid leads, we had no choice but to keep expanding our exploration bit by bit. That said, I planned to be extra vigilant whenever we reached the edges of the known maps.

“As long as that Black Wolf gets taken out, everything should be fine, right?”

“Exactly~,” Sally chirped. “We even gave them the Rune Breaker, so I hope they wrap this up quickly~.”

I’d left the Rune Breaker—the ultimate trump card against the wolf—in the Guild Master’s care. He was supposed to entrust it to an adventurer with the skill and reliability to handle the job. Our party had only made it as far as the Third Floor, so taking on the Black Wolf ourselves was out of the question.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a little stung by the way the Guild Master had looked at me when I handed it over. It was like he was staring at something utterly incomprehensible.

Look, I get it. It’s a priceless artifact. But I was lending it out because the whole city was at risk; he didn't have to look at me like I had three heads.

He’d been grateful, of course, but he’d asked me “Are you sure?” so many times I’d lost count.

I understood his concern, though. It could be lost in the heat of battle, or the adventurer chosen to carry it could simply vanish with the prize.

Even so, to me, the peace of the city was worth far more than any legendary sword. If I wanted to enjoy a slow, quiet life as an adventurer, I needed a city that wasn't being ravaged by a plague. If it solved the problem, I was honestly fine with them keeping the thing. Sally would probably kill me if I said that out loud, though.

“Well, for now, let's just focus on doing what we can.”

“Indeed! I’ll do my part to help you guys out!” Shiroru barked, waving a front paw for emphasis. “In exchange, I expect you to keep the good food coming!”

Right, there was that too. Since my “mission” apparently involved keeping Shiroru's belly full of delicacies, I figured I should put some effort into it. I did have a cooking skill, after all.

Since high-quality seasonings and proper utensils were hard to come by, I couldn't exactly recreate the recipes from my old world perfectly. However, this world had magic. If I got creative, I could probably use spells to supplement my kitchen tools. Maybe it was time to take magic study more seriously.

Yeah, that sounded like a plan. I’d master more magic and hone my cooking skills to keep Shiroru happy. And if the food was good, the rest of the party would be happy too.

Suddenly, I was feeling very motivated!