Two days had passed since Rei used the Flame Emperor's Crimson Armor at night. Today was the Officer Academy's weekly day off, and Rei was walking through the streets of Gracial with Grink at his side.
Originally, Rei had planned to head into the city alone, combining a bit of sightseeing with his outing. But Erinde had declared it absolutely out of the question for Rei—who had a target on his back—to venture outside the academy by himself. After some negotiation, the compromise was that Rei would go accompanied by Grink.
Strictly speaking, Grink's role was to provide support during classes. Day-to-day matters fell under Samarun's jurisdiction. Unfortunately, while Samarun was a mage, his physical abilities were not particularly impressive.
When it came to a pure bodyguard role, Grink—who trained his body as a warrior rather than relying on magic—was clearly the better choice. And so Grink was selected over Samarun, but...
(Well, it's fine. If something comes up, I can ask him about any Gracial-specific rules on the spot. ...Still, I would've liked to bring Set along.)
In terms of pure bodyguarding, Set would actually have been the superior choice over Grink.
But walking a griffon through the streets of Gracial was bound to cause all manner of problems and commotion, so Set had been left on standby in the stables today.
Set had looked genuinely lonely at the news that it wouldn't be going out with Rei. But after being promised that Rei would return before evening, it was eventually persuaded.
Though in exchange, Rei had been made to swear he would bring back something delicious as a souvenir.
"First things first—I want to get something to eat. Know any good spots?"
At Rei's question, Grink tilted his head in thought.
Incidentally, Grink was dressed for his bodyguard role today. He wore leather armor and carried a long sword in its sheath at his waist—an ensemble that, at a glance, made him look like any ordinary adventurer.
While Grink stood taller than Rei, he was still below average height. Yet no one tried to hassle him.
That was undoubtedly because his body was wrapped in muscle that was plain to see.
Taking in Grink's overall appearance, Rei couldn't help thinking he resembled a small tank.
And that small tank Grink now spoke in his customary polite tone, so at odds with his intimidating looks.
"Let's see. If you head straight down this main street, there's an area where several food stalls line the roadside. We're in luck with the weather today, so there ought to be quite a few stalls set up."
Not a cloud hung in the sky, and the sun shone bright. Grink gestured toward the clear winter day as he spoke, and Rei turned his gaze upward as well.
The sun-drenched sky seemed to say that whether or not someone was targeting Rei was of no concern whatsoever to the world above.
"Eh, whatever. Let's go. I'd prefer something warm if possible."
"At this time of year, I doubt any stall would be serving cold dishes. It's winter, after all."
"Really? That's exactly why you crank up the heat indoors and eat cold food in a sweltering room. It's pretty great, you know?"
"...Ordinarily, no one could pull off that kind of luxury. The only people who might manage something like that would be nobles or royalty."
Rei muttered to himself that Grink had a point.
Back in Japan, winter meant a wood stove in the living room and an electric heater in his room. He'd often eaten ice cream in temperatures pushing thirty degrees. But here in Elgin, only the tiniest handful of people could afford such extravagance.
Then again...
"Is that so? I'm good with Flame Magic, so I can manage something similar. And cold dishes are fine as long as I keep them in my Item Box."
It was true—Rei was an exception. Even in the dead of winter, he could sip cold fruit water in sweltering heat or bite into well-chilled fruit.
To an ordinary person, it was something deeply enviable—or perhaps so far beyond the realm of imagination that they wouldn't even know to be envious.
"That is enviable. In that case, if you ever find yourself short on money, you could make a business out of it, couldn't you, Rei-san?"
"Whether I could is one thing—I probably could—but business really isn't my forte."
Shrugging lightly, Rei continued down the road until they reached the street Grink had described, lined with food stalls.
"Whoa... this is something else."
Rei let out an admiring whistle at the sight before him—countless stalls, easily more than fifty of them.
There was a street lined with stalls back in Gilm too, but the number here clearly surpassed it.
(Still, the thing about stalls is always the taste. Doesn't matter how many there are if the food is bad.)
He muttered that to himself partly out of stubborn pride—because, deep down, Rei instinctively understood that Gilm was something like a hometown to him. A place he could always return to.
"Could you point me to anything good? Any recommendations?"
"Let's see. For something warm, soup would be your best bet. Especially one packed with ingredients—it'll warm you up and fill your stomach."
"Sounds good. Let's do that."
Following Grink's suggestion, Rei began ordering bowl after bowl of soup.
He'd eaten a proper breakfast before leaving the staff dormitory, but that didn't stop him from ordering one soup after another, draining each bowl, finishing everything in it, and moving on to the next stall.
Naturally, that kind of behavior drew attention. But Rei himself didn't seem to care in the slightest.
He had absolute confidence that he could handle anything that came his way, and having Grink nearby was an added safety net.
...Though Grink was growing increasingly distressed that the very person he was supposed to protect was drawing so much attention.
It was only natural. The best-case scenario right now was for them not to be spotted by whoever was targeting Rei.
But his charge seemed utterly unconcerned—practically inviting discovery.
Setting aside Grink's worries, Rei headed for the next stall.
Grink had joined Rei in drinking soup for the first few bowls, but by now he was comfortably full and simply trailed behind.
"Oh, you've made it to my stall. You're really something, aren't you... Fella? Miss?"
"If I have to pick one, I'd say fella. ...One bowl, please."
"Coming right up!"
After the brief exchange, the soup that arrived was markedly different from anything Rei had sampled so far.
Even the aroma wafting from it was unlike the previous ones.
"This is... a soup I've never seen before."
"Yeah, it's a local specialty from my hometown. It's got a bit of a peculiar taste, so I'd recommend easing into it—small sips at first."
Intrigued by "peculiar taste," Rei took the provided spoon and tried just the broth.
In that instant, Rei's eyes—which were visible since he'd lowered his hood so it wouldn't get in the way while eating—went wide.
"This is... sour? No, spicy? Sour and spicy? I've never tasted anything like it."
"Right? It really splits people down the middle. But the ones who like it love it. Well, that's exactly why my stall's still in business."
If Rei had any knowledge of Thai cuisine, he might have called it Tom Yum Goong.
But a boy who'd grown up deep in the mountains of Japan had never encountered such a dish. All he could do now was marvel at the taste.
Strictly speaking, Tom Yum Goong typically contains shrimp, and what Rei was eating was a soup made with dried meat—so it wasn't exactly the same thing.
If anything, it was closer to Tom Yum Kai, the chicken version.
Having never tried that type of cuisine, Rei peered carefully at the soup in his bowl.
The milky-white broth made it hard to identify the ingredients within.
Even so, one thing was certain—the taste had a strangely addictive quality.
(With bread... hmm, hard to say. Might work, might not. If anything, I feel like noodles would be a better match.)
The sourness and spiciness were both making bold, assertive claims, but the underlying broth itself was by no means bad.
No—rather, it was precisely because the fundamentals were solid that he could find this aggressively sour-and-spicy soup genuinely delicious.
"Yeah, this is good. I actually really like it."
"That surprises me."
The one who said it wasn't the owner—it was Grink, standing behind Rei.
True to his words, he wore an expression of genuine astonishment.
For Grink, who usually maintained a polite tone but rarely changed expression, this was quite unusual.
"Really? ...From the look on your face, I take it you don't care for it, Grink?"
"I'm sorry, but it's not really to my taste..."
He trailed off and gave a small bow to the stall owner.
He probably worried that the owner might take offense at his hometown's specialty being called unpalatable, however indirectly. But the owner just grinned and shook his head.
"Don't sweat it. Like I told your friend here, I know full well this flavor isn't for everyone. ...Back home, everybody drank it like water, so it was a real eye-opener when I came to Gracial."
"Yeah, that kind of thing happens."
Rei nodded at the owner's words.
Rei himself had always lived in the countryside, but he had gone on a school trip once.
He still remembered the shock—the chawanmushi served there wasn't sweet. The potato salad wasn't sweet either. And conversely, the rolled omelet was sweet.
...Sweet rolled omelets showed up often enough in manga and novels, so seeing one didn't startle him much. But actually eating it felt distinctly off.
A peculiar sensation, different even from the egg in sushi.
But what had surprised Rei the most was probably the potato salad.
In Rei's household, potato salad was a sweet dish, plain and simple.
Salty potato salad came as a genuine culture shock.
Hearing Rei recount those memories, the owner seemed to feel a sense of kinship. He looked at Rei the way one looks at a kindred spirit.
"Sounds like your hometown's got its own dishes that don't play well elsewhere."
"I don't think it's quite that bad, but... I suppose it really comes down to where you grew up and all sorts of factors. More importantly, this soup is great. Can I get another bowl?"
"You got it!"
Even a flavor that most people didn't appreciate—having one's hometown cooking enjoyed was clearly a joy. The owner broke into a smile, ladled the soup into a bowl, and was about to hand it over...
"Move, please—move out of the way!"
Those words came at the same moment the stall jolted. The impact knocked the plate from the owner's hand, sending it crashing to the ground.
Which meant, of course, that the soup went with it...
"Ah."
Who was it that let out that single syllable?
Was it Grink, who had been watching the whole sequence unfold from behind? The passerby who'd been shoved from behind and sent crashing into the stall? The owner, whose plate had struck the ground from the impact? Or perhaps... Rei, whose second helping had been claimed by the earth in his stead?
Regardless, the soup Rei was meant to drink was gone...
"Hoh."
One word.
What slipped from Rei's mouth was that single, clipped syllable—yet everyone who heard it sensed something ominous in it.
It wasn't that any particular emotion had been poured into it.
He had simply muttered.
That was all.
And yet, not only the stall owner and the bystanders who'd witnessed the chain of events, but even Grink felt something foreboding in that murmur.
"A grudge over food is a terrible thing. I'll teach them that lesson firsthand. Sorry, Grink, but I'm going on ahead."
With only those words, he pressed a generous handful of copper coins into the stall owner's hand and took off running.
Grink could only stand there and watch it all happen—until Rei vanished from his sight and jolted him back to his senses.
"!? Rei-san!"
After Grink tore off in pursuit and disappeared from view, what remained at the scene were the stall owner and the surrounding crowd, still struggling to process how things had unfolded.
Along with the disappointed faces of the nearby stall owners—vendors Rei would almost certainly have visited next, had the commotion not cut his tour short.
"Hah... hah... hah... To think he'd send assassins all the way to Gracial. That uncle of mine has absolutely no restraint."
A single young man—somewhere between a boy and a young man in age—was sprinting through the crowded streets, doing everything he could to keep the collateral damage to those around him to a minimum.
...No. To be precise, he was being cornered.
Every time he tried to flee in one direction, a dagger would come flying as if to cut him off, herding him toward a specific destination.
Even so, he had no choice but to follow that herding if he wanted to survive.
He ran through the throngs of people, and before he knew it, he found himself in a back alley.
At the end of his gaze: a wall.
Backed into a dead end with nowhere left to run, the young man drew the long sword from the sheath at his waist. He needed to buy time—just enough to hold out until his separated guards could catch up.
"Heh. Shouldn't have been so reckless, young master. Just give it up."
"That's right. Hand over that life of yours for our payday."
"Kill? Kill? ...Kill!"
"Hey, hey, settle down, all of you. Let's finish this quick and get out of here. We caused way too big a scene, and they've definitely seen our faces."
The four men leveled their weapons and began closing the distance to their target, when...
"Heh. I wondered who it was. Turns out it's a face I recognize. ...Even so, a grudge over food is a terrible thing."
That voice echoed through the back alley.