Chapter 62: Be Careful of Who You Befriend (2)

Keter brought two carts covered in cloth with him. He pulled back the cloth from the smaller one.

“Arbold!”

Arbold, the lieutenant commander of the Order of the Silver Leopard, was kneeling in the cart with his head lowered. Keter took a needle from his pocket and poked it into the back of Arbold's head, and he jolted awake as if struck by lightning.

“Ugh!”

Keter shoved Arbold, who was now conscious, toward Jordic, who examined him closely. There were no signs of torture, but it was clear that, like him, Arbold’s aura and physical strength had been suppressed.

“Well, shall we start the torture?”

Keter approached Jordic, pulling along the remaining cart. Realizing the situation, Arbold let out a chuckle.

“It’s useless. Do you know who he is? He is none other than the legitimate heir of the renowned Bydent family, the Masters of Spears. He is one of the Seven Dragons of Lillian Kingdom selected by the Syndicate, a mysterious group that objectively evaluates the world’s most promising talents! He is Jordic, the Spear Dragon!”

“Ahem.”

Jordic placed a hand on Arbold’s shoulder, signaling him to stop, but Arbold, already worked up, couldn’t be stopped.

“And that’s not all! He’s the first to charge into the battlefield and the last to leave. He single-handedly took down Giricux, a famous monster! Do you really think someone like Lord Jordic would surrender to mere torture? Go ahead—pluck out his eyes, burn his organs!”

Sweat gathered on Jordic’s palm. Everything Arbold said was true, but torture was a different matter. Taking blows in the heat of battle and the adrenaline rush was one thing, but facing piercing and crushing pain with a clear mind was entirely different.

Most of all, Jordic was anxious.

I forgot how to do the Pain Removal Technique.

It was a skill he learned in preparation for being captured. But that was ten years ago, and he had never used it in practice before. It was an easy skill to learn, but he thought he would never have to use it, so it was erased from his memory.

Meanwhile, Arbold was only provoking Keter further.

In a way, Jordic almost wished a professional torturer had come. But Keter was worse—he didn’t seem like the type to do simple torture like pulling out fingernails or burning skin. Something about Keter suggested that his torture would be unimaginably horrific.

An immense fear took over Jordic.

“Heh heh, what an honor it is to be able to torture someone so esteemed.”

Keter cracked his knuckles and loosened his shoulders. Instead of recalling the Pain Removal Technique, Jordic thought of something else.

“W-wait! Torture between subjects of the same kingdom is prohibited by law. If this gets out, even Sefira won’t come out of it unscathed!”

“Thanks for looking out for me. Now, maybe you should worry about yourself.”

“Haha! Don’t waste your time. Ordinary torture won’t faze Lord Jordic one bit,” Arbold interjected confidently.

“Fine, then. I don’t have time to waste either, so let’s get started with the torture...”

Keter grasped the cloth covering the cart. Unconsciously, Jordic gulped.

What torture devices could possibly be inside?

Jordic only hoped there was nothing related to fire.

The cloth was pulled away, revealing something truly sinister.

“T-that...!?”

Keter grinned wickedly.

“Heh heh, yes. It’s exactly what you’re thinking.”

Hisssss!

A thick slab of meat sizzled as it hit the hot grill, the sound sharp and tantalizing. Buttered potatoes and asparagus were added to the sides of the grill. Keter lifted the steak, flaunting its beautifully marbled texture.

“This is prime-grade black-horned rhinoceros from the Adeus Kingdom. Just this one piece costs five gold.”

Sizzle!

Keter flipped the steak, and the juices exploded. Instantly, the stale prison air transformed, the aroma of fine dining filling the air. The mouthwatering scent of seared meat quickly enveloped the cell.

Jordic instinctively held his breath, trying to resist. He wanted to escape, but there was nowhere to go.

Gulp.

It wasn’t Jordic who swallowed; it was Arbold, his nostrils flaring as he stared longingly at the food.

“That... looks delicious....”

The Order of the Silver Leopard weren’t poor; they had the means to buy a steak like that whenever they wanted. But Arbold and Jordic hadn’t eaten anything delicious for six months, as they were on a strict diet optimized solely for muscle growth, consisting of bland chicken breast and bitter vegetables. And recently, they had endured a month of just hardtack and water because of their covert mission.

In such conditions, they were now faced with the sight and smell of the finest steak. Of course, this wasn’t enough to shatter their ironclad resolve.

Keter had deliberately heightened their anxiety, making them imagine tortures filled with pain. And in the midst of this heightened state, he brought delicious food. All that carefully built-up tension unraveled, leaving nothing but unguarded instinct behind.

Hunger—the primal desire to eat something delicious—was far more powerful than they had anticipated.

“Gah! Keter, are you mocking me? Do you really think I’d surrender to mere food?!” Jordic shouted furiously.

Keter, without even taking his eyes off the steak, replied, “Why don’t you wipe the drool off your chin before saying that?”

Chop, chop.

Keter cut the steak into bite-sized pieces. Even the sound of slicing the meat was delicious. Jordic and Arbold could see the red interior with a nice sear on the outside. It was a perfectly cooked rare steak.

“Hmm? What’s this smell?

Sniff, sniff

.”

Keter picked up the bowl near his feet. It was the bowl of flour porridge meant for Jordic.

“Oh dear, is this what you’ve been eating? How sad...”

The pitying look Keter gave him made Jordic want to lunge at him then and there. But Keter held a knife, while his strength was thoroughly restrained.

Unwilling to admit he was tempted by mere food, Jordic shifted the conversation.

“What have you done to us, anyway? Suppressing our aura is one thing, but how did you weaken even our physical strength? Did Sefira resort to forbidden dark magic?”

“Dark magic? Sefira doesn’t even use magic. I did it; it’s called acupuncture. Ever heard of it?”

Shake! Shake!

Keter took out a jar of seasoning and held it high above the steak, letting salt and pepper fall down onto it from above.

“Okay, Jordic. If you want to eat this, give me some interesting information. Then, it’s all yours,” Keter said.

“Shut up! As if I’d betray my family and my house just for a piece of meat!”

“Huh? Who said anything about betrayal? Just some interesting information will do.”

“I will never, ever give in.”

“Suit yourself.”

While they talked, the steak took on a pale pink hue—the perfect medium, considered the most delicious level of doneness. Keter took a large piece and popped it into his mouth. The meat was so rich in flavor from the juices alone that it needed no sauce.

“Mmm, mmm! Mmm!”

Keter’s ecstatic reaction made Arbold clench his fists in frustration.

“You cruel monster! Using food to torture us like this!” Arbold shouted.

“Alright, you can have a bite. Come here.”

Arbold glanced at Jordic, who shook his head.

“It’s a trap. There’s probably poison in it.”

That was a slip on Jordic’s part.

“As you say, sir, I’ll check for poison myself.”

Without hesitation, Arbold rushed over to Keter.

“Open wide. Here comes the meat.”

A warm piece of steak slid into Arbold’s mouth.

“Guh!?”

The moment he chewed it, he sank to his knees. Jordic leaped up in shock.

“Arbold! You...you really did poison it!”

He reached out to help Arbold, who was trembling with his head down. But Arbold didn’t lift his head. He was actually savoring the meat, chewing slowly.

“It’s... so delicious.”

Many years later, Arbold would roam the kingdom searching for a restaurant that could recreate the taste of the steak Keter had cooked in that prison cell. On his deathbed, surrounded by family, he whispered one last wish.

“When I pass, perhaps I’ll be able to taste that steak Keter made for me one last time.”

* * *

Jordic had never seen Arbold look so improper.

How delicious could that steak possibly be to make him look like that?

Arbold, usually resolute enough to jump into fire at Jordic’s command, couldn’t regain his composure, no matter how much Jordic tried.

“Jordic, do you prefer your steak well-done? I can’t stand it like that. If I were you, I’d just say anything and eat,” Keter said.

“Don’t mock the dignity of nobility and the pride of a knight!”

“Who cares about that dignity? The bugs sharing this cell with you? That sounds amazing.”

“Grrr...”

Jordic felt even more anxious seeing the steak’s vibrant pink gradually turning brown. Even with no culinary knowledge, he knew that once that color vanished, so would its flavor and texture.

Wait, why do I even care about that? No, I can’t let this get to me!

Thwack! Thwack!

Jordic hit himself, trying to shake off his cravings through pain. Keter clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Oh, why hurt yourself? Fine. Don’t say anything. I’ll just leave.”

Keter grasped the handle of the cart, preparing to leave. Then Jordic’s gaze fell upon the bowl at Keter’s feet—a serving of flour porridge meant for him.

“Vo-Volus’ nipples are lower than average.”

“Hm?”

Keter paused, turning around.

“Who’s Volus?”

“Argh, he’s the eldest son of Bydent and the deputy patriarch. He’s the future patriarch.”

That’s premium information, isn’t it?

𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Hiding the desperation, Jordic looked at Keter with confidence.

“Hahaha! That’s hilarious! How low are they? Here? Around here?” Keter said, pointing a bit lower than average.

“...A bit lower.”

“Ahaha! Really? That’s basically on his stomach.”

“A-absolutely. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Alright, I’ll believe you. After all, we’re comrades, aren’t we? Go ahead, eat before it gets cold.”

To say that so shamelessly after betraying us, who you call your comrades, and capturing us as prisoners!

That’s what Jordic wanted to say, but somehow, he was already slicing into the steak, holding a fork with his left hand and a knife with his right.

“What the—!?”

I have to use these utensils to kill Keter! But just one little bite.

Jordic wanted to know how good this steak tasted that it made Arbold practically lose his mind; if he didn’t, he would never be able to sleep again. As the steak entered his mouth, Jordic’s eyes widened. There was an explosion of sweetness, saltiness, and savory richness, all cascading in a series of chain reactions across his tongue. It could not compare to any meat—no, to any dish—he had ever had in his life.

“How could such a flavor even exist in this world?” Jordic exclaimed.

Any intention to do something to Keter was long gone. Jordic was eating quickly, but savoring each bite slowly.

“S-sir, please, just one more bite,” Arbold begged as he escaped the trance, but Jordic only offered him a piece of asparagus.

Keter left the cell, leaving the two behind. Outside, the actual professional torturer was waiting.

“Lord Keter, what did you do in there? I’ve never seen knights give in so easily. And with...food!”

Sefira’s professional torturer had spent his youth torturing hardened criminals—many of them knights and wizards known for their resilience. Those with exceptional willpower could endure a month of torture that would break others in a day, and many knights kept their secrets until death. And here was a proud noble son of the Bydent House, bearing the title of Spear Dragon.

“It’s because you’ve never experienced true cuisine,” Keter replied. “There’s a saying: ‘Once a mere mortal tastes the realm beyond ordinary flavors, food ceases to be just sustenance.’”

“Oh, I’ve heard that one! Isn’t it from Demeter, the world’s greatest chef, as recognized by the emperor himself? They say that anyone who eats his food could regain sight or even rise from paralysis! Though, of course, that must just be a rumor.”

A change flickered in Keter’s gaze when the torture technician mentioned Demeter. Demeter was the very person who had taught Keter how to cook. Demeter was obsessed with cooking. He had entered Liqueur to seek ingredients of eternal life. In exchange for offering him a safe place to stay and valuable information about Liqueur, Keter learned the craft of cooking from him.

“Anyway, remind me what the plan was?”

“Ah... yes. No one enters the prison except to deliver meals, which is always flour porridge. I’ll gradually reduce the salt each day.”

“And after that?”

“Every Monday, I’ll torture them with a gourmet dish made from the finest ingredients. It doesn’t need to be super fancy, but they don’t get it without revealing a secret. Even trivial information can earn them a bite. I've memorized everything.”

Keter nodded approvingly.

“Stick to what I’ve ordered and absolutely nothing else.”

No one could stop Keter at Sefira, even the patriarch.

The torturer understood the weight of his words and replied firmly, “Yes, sir! I won’t forget it!”

He bowed deeply to Keter as he walked away.

* * *

It had been a long time since Keter used Demeter’s cooking techniques. Annoying as it was, the taste was worth the hassle. Demeter claimed that reaching the ultimate level of taste could even create miracles... but Keter wasn’t interested in going that far.

I wonder what he’s up to these days? Maybe he’s taken on another student? I’d pay one hundred, even one thousand gold, to taste a dish made by him again. But I heard that I was his only student. And yet, it’s too bothersome to cook for myself. The satisfaction just doesn’t outweigh the effort. Food really tastes best when someone else makes it.

Anyway, now that he had taken care of Jordic, he just needed to grab Luke and leave.

There were three conditions for entering the Sword of the South Tournament. Keter already met one by helping Panir. Now, all that was left was to get a recommendation from the last champion and a diamond-class tag from the mercenary guild, both of which he was going to finish in Liqueur.

Not only that, Keter wanted to stop by Liqueur to pick up a few things, and he also wanted to see Dork again. Although they only parted ways four days ago in this life, it had been thirty years since their last reunion counting his previous life.

Wow, it’s crazy that everyone’s still alive. Even Balt, the Blade Demon, and the godfather’s daughter, who used to follow me around, saying that she loved me...

“Keter! Finally, I’ve found you!”

Just as Keter was about to get Luke, Anis appeared, blocking his path. Anis’ eyes brimmed with energy, and Keter could tell he had far fewer weaknesses than before.

Anger and the desire for revenge really can drive a person to grow, you know.

With determination, Anis declared, “This time, you won’t escape. I challenge you. I’m here to repay you for the humiliation I suffered!”