Epilogue: An Old Country Bumpkin Enjoys a Meal
“Welcome!”
The bell affixed to the door clanged cheerfully, announcing the arrival of a new customer. This spot—a tavern snugly tucked in a back alley of the central district—was a favorite of mine. I’d discovered it after settling down in Baltrain, and I tried to visit every now and then.
This was the capital, so it naturally had many restaurants. More people meant there was more business to be had, so shops of all shapes and sizes existed here. Among those were obviously all sorts of fancy places that nobles and bigwigs favored—places that looked awfully unsuited for an old man like me. Allusia had invited me to such establishments, but I’d casually declined. I was from the countryside, so I had no affinity for high society. As such, I couldn’t calm down in such high-class establishments. I found peace of mind in places like this: a tavern with a quiet atmosphere that was popular among the little people.
Upon opening the door, I saw several customers inside, chatting away at tables while enjoying their meals. I sat down at the far-left edge of the bar and placed an order with the cheerful young lady who greeted me.
“An ale, please.”
“Yes! One ale coming up!”
Having been to this tavern a few times now, this somehow felt like my regular seat. Of course, I sat elsewhere if it was already taken, but for some reason, it was usually available.
A drink tastes even better after a day of work. I wasn’t an alcoholic or anything, but I enjoyed nice booze. They say your tastes change with age, and my life was a perfect example of that—back in my younger days, I’d seen alcohol as nothing more than a bitter liquid. In that sense, I could really tell that I was getting on in my years. I wasn’t sure when exactly I’d started to like the taste of alcohol, but maybe my palate was something I’d inherited from my dad. Taken in moderation, alcohol was refreshing and lifted the mood. And, after working up a good sweat, ale quenched my thirst in a totally unique way.
“Thank you for waiting! Here’s that ale!”
“Thanks.”
The waitress had come out from the back with a wooden tankard filled right to the brim. Man, this is the life. That sentiment might make me sound like a geezer, but there was no helping it. I loved this stuff. What’s more, the ale here came with a side snack of nuts. I couldn’t get enough. Salty nuts were the perfect pairing for a good ale. All right, let’s dig in.
“Mgh... Mgh...”
I gave my thanks to the god of the harvest (Do they even exist?) as I chugged my tankard. The ale was nice and chilly.
“Pwah.”
I wiped the foam from my mouth and took a breath. The bubbles popping in my throat felt great. This golden glimmer quenches my thirst like nothing else in the world. I followed up with a couple of nuts, which were crisp and firm. I chomped through them, and my mouth flooded with a fragrant flavor. This is an altogether different sensation from the ale. Haah, I can’t get enough.
An ale’s freshness had a huge impact on its aroma and taste, but I wouldn’t expect any less from a tavern in the capital’s central district. I certainly had no complaints about the quality. The combination of ale and nuts quickly left my palate enraptured, so I continued to snack and quickly chugged down my drink. Now, after settling in somewhat, I was just about ready to get a meal in me.
I’d come here right after training with the knights, so I was pretty hungry. The smell of cooking meat wafted from the back, making my mouth water even more. Choosing to order meat here was practically a given—it was thick, juicy, and well seasoned. I could easily imagine how good it would be to stuff my cheeks with roasted meat and wash it down with ale.
Yet...did I really want to make that choice without giving it a second thought? I was struck by sudden hesitation. The meat here was definitely delicious, there was no doubting that, and I was more than hungry enough to finish whatever I ordered—I wasn’t equipped with a stomach puny enough that it could be sated with nuts alone. But at the same time, meat was a main dish. It did, of course, depend on the type I ordered, but I felt like meat might be a little too heavy for a first course.
I glanced over the menu on the counter, planning my next move. The atmosphere was great, so while I was here, I figured I would enjoy it for a while longer.
“Excuse me,” I said, waving over the cheerful young lady once again. “Grilled mushrooms, please. Ah, and a refill on ale.”
“Yes! Coming right up!”
Baltrain was in the center of the country, so it naturally had a wide trade network. Even regional foods from the mountains could be found here in abundance. Mushrooms were great. They weren’t as filling as meat, but they had a different consistency than vegetables. Biting into one filled the mouth with a unique umami that I found difficult to describe. And of course, I couldn’t skimp on the ale either.
“Thank you for waiting! Grilled mushrooms!”
As I gulped at my second tankard of ale, staring vacantly at the empty dish of nuts, a plate of plump-looking grilled mushrooms was set in front of me. They were charred here and there, and a skewer ran through all of them.
“Hom...”
I took a bite without any seasoning first. Mm, they’re still hot... Perfectly cooked too. After biting through the slightly crisp outer layer, umami immediately seeped out and danced across my tongue. Delicious.
I wasn’t a gourmand or anything, but having good food was always better than having bad food—anyone would agree with that. I slathered my second bite with a generous serving of sauce. Mm, it’s just as good with the sauce. I thought it was rather chic to enjoy a different flavor with every bite, so next, I had a bite with plenty of salt. This was also delicious.
Phew. Okay, it’s about time I get my hands on some meat. I finished the grilled mushrooms and placed my next order with the young lady.
“Excuse me. Sausage stew, please.”
“Coming right up!”
Roasted meat would be nice too, but I decided to go with stew. The Regen kebab shop I’d gone to with Kewlny and Ficelle had been excellent, but I figured I’d treat myself to something more suited to sit-down dining. Ten or twenty years ago, I would’ve coveted a good hunk of meat, but my tastes had changed. I decided I wanted to juxtapose the cold ale in my belly with a nice hot stew.
“Here you go! Thank you for waiting!”
My sausage stew arrived. The large vegetable chunks in the broth looked splendid. This really is a great restaurant—I’ll definitely have to add it to my regular rotation. I ate a spoonful of stew. The meat and vegetables had melded perfectly, and this savory combination filled my mouth with joy. Such a gentle flavor... My heart and stomach are satisfied. The sausage’s mince was fine and tightly packed in the casing, and the moment I bit down, juices burst onto my tongue. I used the stew’s broth to wash it all down.
“Phew...”
Nuts, mushrooms, stew, and two tankards of ale. Did I want more...or was it better to stop here? What a difficult decision. I felt like I hadn’t gotten enough, yet also like I’d eaten just the right amount.
“Excuse me, can I get some bread?”
“Certainly!”
In the end, I ordered more. Maybe I was younger than I thought—I found myself unable to ignore the voice inside that wanted just one more bite. Freshly baked bread was good on its own, but dipping it in stew was simply exquisite. From ale to bread, this meal gave me a true appreciation for wheat. What a terrific ingredient for sating humanity’s hunger.
As I chewed on some stew-soaked bread, a person who appeared to be the restaurant’s owner walked over to me. He looked a little older than I was, though his neatly trimmed hair and beard looked very fresh. Also, the outer edges of his eyes drooped somewhat, so he gave off the impression of a kind old man.
“You’ve been coming here a lot recently,” he said, striking up a conversation. “Did you just move to this neighborhood?”
“Yes, well, something like that.”
I didn’t hate chatting like this. It made me feel like a regular. Though I could hardly tell him that I’d been kicked out of my house by my dad, so I just answered his question noncommittally. Besides, it was hard to mention that I was the special instructor for the Liberion Order.
“Our Aida was pretty curious about you too. She keeps mentioning that a customer’s been coming around who really enjoys our food.”
The owner exchanged looks with the young lady who was currently serving a different table. I felt a little embarrassed that they’d been watching me like that. Guess I put my country bumpkin side on full display...
“Your daughter?” I asked. “She’s a very cheerful girl.”
“Ha ha ha! It’s all she has going for her, though.”
The conversation turned to the owner’s daughter, Aida. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail that flowed down to her shoulders and swayed about energetically behind her. She looked just around twenty years old, and the word “lively” described her perfectly. She went around cheerfully from table to table taking orders. Somehow or other, she reminded me of Kewlny...despite looking nothing like her.
“Aah, right,” said the owner. “Please have this if you’d like. My wife made it.”
“Ooh, how generous of you. I’ll gladly accept.”
The owner handed me a bag filled with bread. I was really grateful—it wasn’t like I was running out of money or anything, but being gifted good food had my spirits soaring. Relationships like this were so nice. This type of exchange had been pretty frequent with my neighbors out in the sticks, but forming a bond like this in the middle of the big city carried a different weight.
This man wasn’t a neighbor, but our meeting wasn’t a once-in-a-lifetime encounter. I’d reconnected with all sorts of people here in Baltrain, like Allusia and Selna, but meeting new folks was also something to cherish. You never knew what connection might come in handy out in the world. And this connection had, in fact, already paid off in the form of great food.
Anyway, girls like Aida who were great at looking after others were lovely. Not that I was eyeing her or anything! My old man’s words just suddenly flashed across my mind. Looking for a wife, huh? I hadn’t given it any thought until now...but I wasn’t allowed home until I did something about that. There wasn’t much I could do when he kept pestering me for grandkids. Until I found a woman to be with, my dad would definitely keep bothering me. That damn geezer.
“That’s all for me then,” I said to the owner. “The check, please.”
“Of course. Please come by again.”
I settled the bill and stood up. It looked like some adventurers were sitting at a nearby table. They were all muscular, with sturdy builds, and they were chugging ale while stuffing their cheeks with meat. Aida interacted with them courteously. She wasn’t very showy in the looks department, but there was a simplistic liveliness to her—it was like she shared her energy with everyone.
“Ah! Thank you very much!”
When Aida noticed that I was leaving, she graced me with a splendid smile.
“The food was great. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome! Please come again!”
After that pleasant farewell, I left the shop. Much like when I’d come in, the bell above the door chimed gently.
“What’s this? Aida, is that kinda old guy your type?”
“J-Jeez! That’s not how it is!”
Just before the door closed fully, I caught a snippet of the conversation between Aida and one of the adventurers (well, probably adventurers).
You damn youngsters. Think of better things to chat about! Like hell would a young girl hit on an old man like me. You’re being a total nuisance to Aida. You know women see you in a poorer light when you ask about stuff like that, right?
“Phew, I’m stuffed.”
I strolled down the capital’s streets on my own. The area wasn’t quite deserted, but seeing how late it was, there were very few people about. The night wind brushed against my cheek. After being warmed by the ale, the breeze felt incredible.
Anyway, that place is a wonderful hole in the wall. The owner and his daughter are nice people, and the food is delicious. From now on, I wanna eat there often.
“A wife, huh...?”
My mumbled words melted into the darkness. I wasn’t pining for a wife or anything. At most, I thought it would be nice if I met a woman who I felt real compatibility with. I wasn’t proactively going around looking for one, though—I wasn’t that resourceful, and I doubted anyone would yearn for me as a man. At this rate, am I ever going to be able to return home? Honestly, it felt like it would be faster to try and convince my parents to let me back in.
“Well, it’ll work out one way or another.”
Things had fallen into place over the forty-five years of my life. I was sure that trend would continue from now on...setting aside whether I would actually ever find a sweetheart. Crap, now I’m thinking like an old man.
“Okay, back to the inn.”
At times like these, having a drink at the inn didn’t sound bad. I shifted my thoughts in that direction and picked up the pace. My voice and footsteps vanished into the nighttime ambience of the capital.
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