Chapter 11

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing (2)

Whitewolf Castle's dining hall was built of sturdy timber and furnished with fur-draped wooden chairs. Hides and antlers from the snowy mountains adorned its walls, while warm flames rose from a large central brazier, gently warming the room.

Through the thick bars and ice coating the windows, the snow-covered mountains and plains lay in clear view. That cold mountain landscape only emphasized the dining hall's cozy warmth—and amid it all...

"You're saying you intend to eat shit... I mean, the innards?"

The chef's dumbfounded face grew more bewildered by the moment. Understandably so. Intestines were digestive organs. In other words, they weren't fit to eat. Of course, with some cleaning, they could be edible, but...

"The innards we have left aren't edible parts."

Parts full of bodily waste could hardly pass for food. If even people in the northern mountains threw them away, they truly were inedible.

"We kept them to drive animals away..."

In short, even animals wouldn't eat them. But that didn't particularly bother me. I tore into monster hearts and ate them. What couldn't I eat? More importantly, setting taste aside and considering nutrition alone, there was no better source of protein than innards.

"Enough. Just bring them out."

"... Pardon?"

"What are you waiting for? Go get them."

"Y-you really intend to eat the innards?"

"Would I have asked you to bring them if I wasn't going to eat them?"

"..."

"Bring them raw. Cooking destroys the nutrients."

I waved him away. After watching me warily for a while, the head chef slipped into the kitchen. He returned in less than a few minutes, which was only natural, since I'd told him not to cook them.

"... Here you are."

The innards sat neatly arranged on a plate, dripping blood. When I speared them with my fork, the rank odor wafting up was spectacular. Apparently, they were packed with waste. Still, I brought them to my mouth without hesitation and chewed.

And, sure enough...

'Tastes like shit.'

Literally. Without a hint of exaggeration, I could describe it as chewing on a sewer. The chef hadn't said they were inedible for nothing. Nevertheless, I speared another piece and shoved it into my mouth.

"Good heavens...! How can you eat that like...!"

The head chef jumped in horror. The maids nearby stared wide-eyed as well, appalled to see me eating innards. Thinking about it, that was only natural: the count's wastrel son, whose eating habits went beyond picky to downright fucking obnoxious, was chewing on guts full of shit. Several maids clapped both hands over their mouths, apparently fighting the urge to vomit.

"Ugh...!"

"I can't take any more—u-urgh...!"

One maid finally couldn't stand it and ran from the dining hall. Others fled after her, plunging the room into chaos in an instant. I paid them no mind, continuing to stuff my mouth with innards and chew through the waste inside.

'Compared to my special task force days, this is nothing.'

The innards I was eating now were practically gourmet cuisine.

During the war against the empire, conditions on the continent had been horrific. The Emperor's merciless slaughter hadn't been limited to the allied army or even to humanity. As though he hated life itself, he exterminated every living thing on the continent, including animals, plants, insects, and worms.

If he needed them, he bred them. If he didn't, he slaughtered them. As a result, the continent back then had been even harsher than the northern mountains were now: a continent of death, devoid of any sign of life.

Forget a meal a day. Going hungry for days on end wasn't merely common; it was routine. Never mind food—we had no water, so we drank urine. When there was no urine left, we wrung moisture from our feces to quench our thirst. Eventually, nothing came out at all, leaving us tormented by hunger and thirst.

Finding even a bug on a mission was cause for celebration. Bugs were excellent sources of protein, after all.

The food shortage was a dire problem that afflicted not only the special task force but the entire allied army. As the sayings went, a steadfast heart came from a steady livelihood, and no one could go hungry for three days without turning to theft. The allied army starved and slowly crumbled.

Even Ian couldn't solve the food problem. He could easily cleave mountains and overturn seas, but nature's ecosystem was beyond him.

The one who solved that fundamental problem was the Spirit Mage, a hero of the allied army. Using nature's power, the Spirit Mage brought forth new life on the devastated continent, restoring its ruined ecosystem and breathing life and vitality into a land that had known only death.

Afterward, the Spirit Mage became the commander of Supply Command, freeing the allied army from its food and supply problems altogether. We called Supply Command [The Power That Sustains the Battlefield from Beginning to End]. Without the Spirit Mage, without the allied army's Supply Command, we would have starved to death before ever fighting the Emperor.

Though we had suffered utter defeat in the final battle against him...

'This time will be different.'

A second chance was in my hands. I had returned to the past, and Ian had returned with me. We could form the allied army sooner, forge stronger bonds within it, and build even greater strength and forces to oppose the Emperor.

We had a fair amount of time, too. Ten years. This wasn't just a fight worth attempting. It was brimming with possibilities.

And it all began with the Hero, Ian. Everything would begin anew the moment I reunited with him. That meant I had to finish every preparation before he arrived. I had no time to sit on my ass raising Kai's affinity.

"Do you have any more innards left?"

"P-pardon?! Ah, well... yes, we do."

"You were going to throw them away anyway, right?"

"Y-yes."

"Then pack all of them into meals to go. I'll eat them."

"M-meals to go...?"

"Yes."

I chewed noisily.

"What are you waiting for? Get back to the kitchen."

"Well, I... Y-yes, sir! Right away!"

The head chef scrambled away, followed by the maids... or rather, by women clamping their hands over their mouths and rushing off somewhere. Watching them go, I shoved more innards into my mouth. Along with the squishy texture, a pungent sewer taste spread across my tongue.

'Not bad.'

... The more I ate, the more it grew on me.

* * *

A day had passed since Adrian returned to Whitewolf county. He scarcely left the Frost Trial Grounds, even eating his meals there. Except for the hours he spent sleeping, he trained his body there all day long.

Today, too, Adrian was panting for breath at the Frost Trial Grounds. He was lifting heavy barbells and dumbbells—ordinary physical conditioning. The weights, however, were anything but ordinary. The dozens of plates on either end of the barbell bent its iron bar almost into a C.

"W-what... am I looking at right now?"

"Is that humanly possible...?"

"Maybe Lord Adrian is using aura—"

"As if."

"R-right? There's no way Lord Adrian can use aura, is there?"

"Then what in the world are we looking at?"

Adrian had stripped off his shirt, revealing a body far firmer than the day before. He breathed in forceful, rhythmic bursts. With every breath and every lift of the barbell, his hard, densely packed muscles writhed fiercely.

"Is he... really human?"

"I'm starting to think he's an ogre..."

Adrian was the hottest topic among Whitewolf Castle's soldiers. And not just the soldiers—he was also the favorite subject of gossip among the maids in the lord's residence.

"Listen, listen. Don't you think Lord Adrian seems a little different?"

"Completely! Actually, I cleaned his room yesterday, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"After I'd finished and left, I thought back and realized I hadn't lined up the hangers when I tidied his wardrobe."

"What?! Lord Adrian never lets that sort of thing slide!"

"Exactly!"

The maid shuddered at the memory.

"So I kept fretting about what to do, then decided I might as well get the beating over with. I confessed everything."

"And?"

"He said it was fine!"

"Whaaat...?"

"And he even thanked me for all my hard work cleaning his room!"

"What?! Instead of slapping you?!"

"Yes! I was so touched!"

Once the gossip started, it kept flowing.

"Then maybe that rumor's true, too?"

"What rumor?"

"About Lord Adrian's meals. Apparently, all he eats these days is innards. Inedible ones, at that."

"What? Lord Adrian, the clean freak? Why on earth?"

"The head chef says it's to save ingredients. Apparently, there isn't even enough food to give the people of the domain."

"Huh...?"

"Honestly, even I find that one hard to believe."

"No, it's true."

Another voice suddenly cut in.

"Huh? Lena...?"

"When did you get here?"

"Just now."

"But what do you mean, it's true? Did you see it yourself?"

"Yes. I was there when Lord Adrian was in the dining hall. He really did say he was eating innards because there weren't any ingredients."

"Really?"

"Yes. Then he put those innards in his mouth as if it were nothing..."

"Oh my goodness!"

"Ugh, let's stop talking about it. Just remembering makes my stomach... Urgh!"

And so, from the castle soldiers to the maids in the lord's residence, everyone was abuzz with talk of Adrian. But it didn't last long.

"How long until he's back to his old self?"

"Won't he quit tomorrow, saying it's too hard?"

"I give him until today."

"Still, I'll bet one gold he lasts three days this time."

No one believed Adrian would change completely. The late count's will had simply shocked him into briefly pretending to make an effort. Pretending to change.

People never changed. Least of all Adrian, who had never put effort into anything in his life. He had been a wastrel for over ten years. A brief stint away from home and a single day of effort couldn't change that. The count's wastrel son would always be the count's wastrel son.

The castle soldiers and the maids in the lord's residence all reached the same conclusion.

"He'll give up soon enough."

Regardless, Adrian quietly continued lifting barbells and dumbbells at the Frost Trial Grounds. His breaths came in harsh bursts. With his labored breathing and the heat pouring from his body, frost no longer settled on the Frost Trial Grounds.

And so, time flew by.

* * *

It was early morning, before dawn. Cold moonlight cast a soft silver glow across the still-dark sky and the county's snow-covered landscape. Ice crystals glittered in the moonlight like the Milky Way. Far away lay the ridges of the snowy mountains.

Amid a stillness that made the world seem frozen, holding its breath, Kai walked briskly, running through his training schedule.

Starting with sword practice, there would be live sparring, instruction for the soldiers, tactical drills, archery, formation-breaking and defensive drills, night ambush exercises, tracking, survival training, and physical conditioning. A grueling schedule stretching from the crack of dawn until late at night. It tested his limits every day—but for Kai, it was simply his usual routine.

The frosty air struck his cheeks with every step. Each breath froze his lungs. Smoke rose from chimneys here and there, almost seeming to tug at him, inviting him to stop and warm himself for a moment.

But Kai quickened his pace. If he wanted to finish all of today's training, there was no time to dawdle.

When he hurried into the Frost Trial Grounds, he heard harsh, rhythmic breaths coming from within.

... Someone had arrived before him and was already training.