Chapter 112 : Chapter 112

Chapter 112: The Oath of Bastion

Since we couldn’t grab a proper meal at the barracks, Bill and I decided to head to the streets of Easton.

“We’ve got a ton of money, so we can eat to our hearts’ content, Bihen.”

Bill was grinning ear to ear.

Now that I looked at him, this guy seemed to have gotten even chubbier.

It was a civil war, even if not a massive one.

Shouldn’t it usually be the opposite?

“All thanks to you, Bihen.”

I was about to ask when his words cut me off.

“You kept insisting in your sleep that you had to go back to the Easton Guard barracks to rest. It felt weird. Like you’d really become one of us and the fact that Conwell’s true hero is my friend? That’s something else.”

Suddenly, I remembered the first conversation we had when we met.

I told him there was no need for formalities, and he was thrilled to have an Imperial friend.

‘And I went out of my way to draw a line, saying we weren’t exactly friends.’

A snort escaped my nose.

I’m such a pathetic guy.

“Finally, a mission worthy of me. Alright!”

We were just entering the heart of Easton’s streets.

Bill, who had been puffing out his shoulders, suddenly dropped them and leaned in close, his eyes brimming with determination, as if he’d made some grand resolve.

“Bihen, you’d better brace yourself.”

“Brace for what?”

“That picky palate of yours. I’m going to make it surrender today.”

My brow furrowed instinctively.

The only thing I caught clearly was that my palate was picky.

‘Well, that’s true.’

But why do I need to brace myself, and what’s this about surrendering?

“Heh, follow me.”

Bill cracked his knuckles and strode forward confidently.

I didn’t know what was going on, but I had no choice but to follow.

How far did we go?

Something caught my eye in passing.

My heart sank.

It was like running into an unexpected ambush.

I saw a section of the city swept by the aftermath of Aura.

Between half-destroyed buildings, fragments of broken and scorched stone walls lay scattered.

‘…’

I couldn’t help but pause.

The aftereffects of war often brought these kinds of illusions, usually set against such a backdrop.

In my past life, these scenes were just tiresome and repulsive, but now they felt like traces I couldn’t erase due to my lack of strength.

“Bihen?”

Bill’s call shook me out of it, at least a little.

On top of that, I noticed the people working on reconstruction—most of them looked bright and full of energy.

Without realizing it, I muttered to myself,

“Let’s overcome this together.”

“…Let’s go.”

I pulled the hood of my robe lower.

Bill had insisted I cover my face because people would surely recognize me, and now I was grateful for it.

“Here we are.”

Bill stopped in front of an old door in a secluded alley far from the city center.

I glanced around absentmindedly.

The alley was quiet.

Compared to the bustling heart of the city we’d passed through, it was practically deserted.

“Come in. Bihen, you’d better brace yourself.”

The afterimage of the scene I’d just seen hadn’t faded, so I wasn’t in the mood to play along with his teasing.

Following Bill, my eyes caught a small sign hanging on the doorframe.

‘The Oath of Bastion?’

Bastion… I’ve heard that somewhere before.

Definitely.

Creak.

As soon as I stepped inside, I felt my breath catch.

A cramped space surrounded by wooden walls was dominated by a table that seemed to take up every inch except the edges. I only realized it was a table because of the tiny chairs beneath it.

“Hey, old man! I’m here!”

I had no idea who he was greeting.

The place was so tight there was barely room to step, and the low ceiling was already getting on my nerves.

“Oh, Bill, is it? Good to see your ugly mug alive.”

I nearly yelped in surprise.

A head popped out from behind the table.

It was a middle-aged man with fierce, piercing eyes, as if frozen in anger.

Deep wrinkles etched across his face added to his intimidating presence.

“What’s with this grim-looking guy? A friend? Never seen him before.”

I threw off my hood, feeling stifled, and he immediately shot at me.

With a face like that and words like those, it felt like he was picking a fight from the get-go.

“Y-Yes, yes! He’s a friend.”

“Tch. Sit down. Don’t just stand there gawking.”

How was I supposed to take this?

While I hesitated, Bill grabbed my arm with pleading eyes, so I reluctantly sat down.

As soon as I did, my back hit the wall, and my head turned…

“Godin, old man. Let’s have a proper showdown today.”

“Ha, look at this guy’s bravado. Fine, I’ll show you what’s what.”

“First, two glasses of ‘Morning in Ludglen,’ then ‘An Old Soldier’s Birthday’ to start. Follow with ‘Herb Scent Blooming at the Spear’s Tip,’ ‘Inside the Abandoned Wagon,’ ‘Crossing the River, That Inexplicable Mystique.’ And for the finale…”

I gaped, looking back and forth between them.

My head was spinning.

What kind of conversation was this?

But they were different.

Godin’s eyes flashed with excitement for a moment.

His throat bobbed, like he was facing a worthy rival on a narrow bridge.

Bill was the same.

That soft Bill was radiating intense determination.

Godin broke the silence that followed Bill’s trailing words.

“As expected… ‘The Oath of Bastion,’ right?”

Bill nodded firmly.

“Aren’t you pushing it, Bill? Did you get a retirement bonus or something?”

“I’ve earned some merits, you know.”

“Ha, alright.”

Godin turned and vanished like he’d sunk into the floor.

I blinked, then asked Bill,

“…Didn’t we come here to eat?”

“We did. This is Godin’s place, a restaurant he runs alone. It’s a hidden gem in Easton that only insiders know about. No, ‘gem’ doesn’t cut it. It’s Conwell’s secret weapon.”

Bill carefully placed some cutlery in front of me from a set on the side.

“Sorry for not warning you. I wanted to give you an unforgettable experience.”

I tore my eyes away from the overly solemn Bill and scanned the room.

A restaurant in this cramped, stifling place?

Would food even go down my throat?

‘No, more importantly…’

I’d confirmed everyone’s safety, so my plan was to fill my empty stomach while catching up on everything I’d missed.

I had a mountain of questions.

What happened to Callence?

Did the White Night Strategy succeed?

How did Bolero and Jayden handle the spearman?

And so on…

Even if I didn’t know the details, I knew these weren’t topics to discuss where someone might overhear.

Unless this owner was deaf, the setup here made it awkward to bring up anything.

“Bihen.”

With all these uncomfortable factors piling up, and after days of not eating, I didn’t even have the energy to get mad.

I just looked up at Bill, who suddenly had the face of a sage.

“Did you know? Of all the five senses, taste is the most powerful. Sight, sound, smell, touch—they can all be controlled by reason. But not this tongue.”

“…”

“Look at you. Even the great Sword Fiend becomes utterly honest in front of food. You’ve gone days starving because something didn’t suit your taste. That’s a critical issue I can’t overlook. A tragic situation where you can’t perform at your best just because of food. But what if it’s the opposite?”

I found myself listening intently.

Bill saw through my frayed nerves, worn by exhaustion and hunger.

“…What if you tasted the ultimate culinary experience?”

Sizzle!

At that moment, flames roared from the back.

Soon, a savory aroma began to fill the space.

As I was still reeling, Bill tapped my shoulder.

“Everything comes after eating. Let’s talk then, Bihen.”

A meal is an extension of battle.

In my past life’s military days, I heard this countless times.

At first, it sounded like nagging, but even the picky me eventually accepted it as truth.

‘…Loss of combat strength.’

Right now, nothing could be more fatal to me.

Fine, I’d play along and calm my temper.

Once I decided to hold back, this uncomfortable interior started to look different.

Was the kitchen and dining table being so close a matter of space constraints, or was it intentional?

Whoosh!

Unable to resist my curiosity, I stood and peered over the table toward the kitchen.

My eyes widened.

Magic was unfolding.

Not a metaphor.

The flames rising from the grill formed strange shapes.

‘Magic tools.’

I recalled what the Sylphinus chief had said.

—Sylphinus studies everything to make human life happier. For example, eating, sleeping, and loving.

Gulp.

I swallowed again.

Cooking utensils using magic tools…

Sizzle—!

Godin was cooking with his back to me.

His hands moved swiftly and dazzlingly, unperturbed by flames occasionally leaping above his head.

I could barely follow with my eyes.

It might sound contradictory to marvel at cooking techniques when I can track transcendent swordsmanship, but they’re not the same.

Even if I’m a peak swordsman, swordsmanship and cooking are entirely different disciplines.

‘Profound skill.’

No matter how great a swordsman I am, in the realm of cooking, I’m just a picky-eater

ignoramus.

What matters is that every field has its profound skill.

A sublime state that beginners or ordinary people can’t touch exists in every domain human hands reach.

I know this better than anyone.

I’ve reached the pinnacle in the realm of swordsmanship.

Gulp.

…So, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the momentum radiating from those relentless hands, let alone follow them with my eyes.

It felt like watching the artistry of a master from another world.

“Bihen, sorry, but could you sit down?”

My head whipped around as if ambushed from the side.

Bill sat with his arms crossed, eyes closed.

To me, that looked like the composure of a master.

“Cooking is a battle that starts with sound and ends with aroma. For both the maker and the enjoyer.”

“…”

Where did it all go wrong?

Anyway, I was already overwhelmed.

In this cramped, shabby arena called ‘The Oath of Bastion,’ I’d become a mere mortal caught in a culinary duel between two hidden masters.

Having seen the magic cooking tools, I couldn’t help but ask, keeping my voice as low as possible.

“…Do Kingdom cooks use magic when cooking?”

“Pfft.”

Bill laughed dismissively before answering.

“Bihen, the essence of cooking is the taste of the hand. The moment mana gets involved, it’s not cooking anymore.”

“I… see.”

“You can’t say that anywhere else, even by mistake. It’s incredibly rude to cooks. Be careful.”

Damn, I almost apologized.

A spark of defiance flared, and I sat beside Bill, mimicking his arm-crossed pose, waiting.

‘…’

The tantalizing aroma at my nose soon enveloped my entire body.

It was irresistible.

Escaping this small shop was impossible.

Was this their plan?

But I didn’t mind.

Unknowingly, I was gradually sinking into the rhythm of this unfamiliar space.

“Time to serve.”

Clink.

Godin placed a glass in front of each of us and slid a plate with a few round, flat breads to the center.

The breads were slightly smaller than a fist, with honey pooled in the grooves on their surface.

Gurgle.

Godin lifted a barrel as big as his face and filled our glasses.

The tart scent of cider spread.

One odd thing: tiny bubbles rose from the bottom of the glass, like it was simmering.

“I guarantee, ‘Morning in Ludglen’ is the Kingdom’s finest cider. Come on, Bihen.”

Bill raised his glass toward me, as if proposing a toast.

“Why do they give food such weird names?”

Bill lightly touched his lips to the glass and smiled leisurely.

“Godin’s experiences, places, and the impressions he got there become dishes. The names are like a record of that. And if customers can figure out the inspiration and ingredients behind them, they don’t have to pay. That’s the fun challenge of ‘The Oath of Bastion.’”

…Does eating have to be this complicated?

“Drink, Bihen. Savor the aroma first. Your picky palate probably comes from a sensitive nose. Settle it first.”

Bill spoke like a renowned scholar, his expression brimming with confidence.

Whatever.

I’d just do as he said.

Swish.

I brought the glass to my nose.

The sharp scent seeped in.

‘…!’

The aroma hit my mind like a shockwave.

It ravaged my senses, like a ‘legion’ of cider scents.

Fierce and unstoppable, it burst through my defenses, scattering tiny fireballs that cleared all the stagnant energy, proclaiming:

From now on, we’ll purify your filthy body.

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