I Picked Up the Fallen Earth

Chapter 38. Travel (2)

Crunch!

The cells throughout his body were going wild. The crispiness of the chicken, paired with the nutty oil and magical blend of seasonings, created a harmony. If human beings could separate their bodies and souls, his soul would have shot right out of his head. His body shivered.

To Jeron, who had tasted this flavor before, it was a touching moment. However, for those born and raised in this uncivilized medieval era, it was nothing short of shocking. Even Dame Leila, who typically kept her emotions in check, was now wide-eyed, engaging in a ferocious battle for food(?) with the other knights.

What about Sir Becken, who prided himself on having tasted delicious foods during his long tenure as a merchant?

“In light of this holy chicken dish, all the food I’ve tasted before turns to trash!”

It was high praise indeed. Even though it wasn’t from a professional franchise or served with an overly stimulating sauce, the rich flavor filling the mouth gave the illusion of finding a lost piece of one’s soul. Moisture welled up in Jeron’s eyes.

‘To think I would taste this flavor again in the Karen Continent!’

The hard times on Earth felt completely worthwhile. Crunch! Crunch! Jeron was beside himself, his hands and mouth moving non-stop. Everyone was out of their minds. They were nearly driven to madness by the noble taste of chicken. After the storm passed, they were all speechless, their taste buds, which had given up on flavor, were now awakened, leaving them dazed.

Dame Leila was the first to snap out of it and exclaimed, “Revere our lord! He has bestowed upon us, unworthy ones, the taste of heaven.”

“Wow!”

The soldiers all raised their weapons in unison. They were like berserk warriors.

‘Could chicken be a decisive weapon?’

It was a bizarre and crazy thought. Would feeding them chicken before a battle send them into a frenzy? Seeing their reaction now made it seem possible. Without adding any drugs to the chicken, it wouldn’t enhance physical abilities, but the human spirit, more influential than we think, could indeed affect the body.

“Loyalty to our lord!”

“To think that such celestial food would be shared with us, the unworthy, is infinitely moving!”

The sentiments of the knights were no different. Although their expressions were more refined, the frenzy in their hearts turned into loyalty. And what about the guild leader Becken?

“If a specialized restaurant selling this were to appear, it could cause a sensation across the continent.”

“Was it that good?”

“The thought of having to eat tasteless dark bread from tomorrow makes me unable to sleep.”

It was a simple review.

‘A chicken restaurant.’

Chicken restaurants are a common theme in alternate history novels. However, there’s a mistake here. While oil may be abundant on modern Earth, going back to ancient times would make even seeing fried food a rarity. Struggling just to survive, who would press oil from crops? It was an action against the flow of time.

‘If I could get my hands on some rapeseed, I could make a lot of oil, but that’s impractical for now.’

Of course, I haven’t completely ruled out the possibility, whenever that may be.

“No amount of oil in existence could make it feasible to produce and sell this. The cost of a single bottle of the oil used for the frying you’ve just enjoyed would be equivalent to several sacks of wheat.”

“Really, is it that expensive?”

“It might be even more.”

“It’s truly regrettable. A specialized restaurant would rake in money.”

“Is anything in this world easy?”

“That’s true.”

Even Jeron, who farmed across both Earth and the Karen Continent, found it impossible to enact dramatic changes in a short period. To establish a chicken restaurant—to the extent of acquiring oil—in the Karen continent required cultivating the right crops, installing pressing machines for oil production, and achieving self-sufficiency in flour.

It was a challenge to supply chickens suitable for frying, and in this era of terrible distribution networks, restaurants had to raise their own chickens, a demand that was hard to meet. There were indeed many mountains to climb. Even setting up something as seemingly simple as a chicken restaurant required substantial effort in these times.

After a whirlwind of activity, Jeron invited the entire Carvain family to the table. This time, the entire Carvain household had become vassals to the Farrow household. It was still premature to address Seria with the honorific ‘Lady’, but depending on her contributions to the domain, she too could potentially earn such a title.

Jeron opened up a bottle of wine brought from Earth alongside a chicken he had prepared.

“Wow, Lord, you’re the best!” Seria gave a thumbs-up in praise.

This prompted a rebuke from Lord Leila. “How dare you show such rudeness to the Lord? Did I teach you to act this way?”

“Oh, come on, sister. Don’t be so uptight. When was it you praised the Lord’s flexibility, yet now you act this way?”

“Wh-when did I do such a thing!”

Dame Leila’s face turned red in denial, showing a surprisingly cute expression. Who would have thought the fearsome witch, Dame Leila, had such a side to her? Jeron calmed her down, “It’s alright. As the dame said, I am not so strict.”

“That’s right, isn’t it, Lord? There’s no way someone who cooks personally for their soldiers could be strict.”

Seria was reminding the soldiers once again, movingly. A lord cooking for their soldiers must be a first in history, a shockingly incomprehensible act by the standards of the era. Moreover, if the cooking was delicious enough to grace the table of a goddess, the emotional impact doubled.

‘Seria has a basic sense for politics too.’ She subtly reinforced Jeron’s choices, fostering loyalty with a smile. Each of the three siblings had their strengths, making the Carvain family’s allegiance to the Farrow household a fortunate event.

“Though we’re traveling, one bottle of wine should be fine.”

The sweet aroma spread crisply. The wine, though cheap, was sweet in a way that could not be found in this world. “We’re greatly honored.”

“To dare take a cup from the Lord.”

“Wow! What is this?”

Jeron savored a chicken leg along with the sweetness of the wine. In his days on Earth, such cheap wine would only have been used for cooking, but having been devoid of such sweetness for so long, even this tasted sweetly intoxicating.

The sounds of insects in the evening, the cool breeze transforming as night fell, and even the smoke meant to repel bugs felt oddly comforting. The flickering campfire, delicious food, and sweet wine stirred deep emotions.

‘I’m indulging in luxuries here that I never did on Earth.’ This felt like a true adventure. As the wine flowed, Jeron’s heart too unwound naturally.

“Why did Sir Becken become a merchant? If he had fallen to such a degree, he could have chosen another profession.”

“That is because…”

Sir Becken seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. He hadn’t expected to be asked such a question. Regaining his composure, Sir Becken answered.

“Farming alone could not rid us of poverty.”

“It seems there was a catalyst?”

“You may or may not remember the Great Famine.”

“I do remember. Thousands died in a truly severe famine.”

It was something Jeron had experienced in his childhood. Not just the territory, but the kingdom as a whole suffered from crop failures for several years. When the drought finally ended, swarms of locusts devoured all the crops that were to be harvested.

The streets overflowed with those who starved to death, and cries of despair were incessant throughout the domain. Even the lord’s household, the Farrow, had to cut back on food due to a lack of supplies.

“During that famine, we lost our nursemaids and maids. The merchant guild collapsed, and my parents disappeared while searching for food in the mountains. These children nearly died back then.”

The atmosphere momentarily became heavy, prompting Jeron to fill their glasses. After taking a sip of wine, Sir Becken continued his story.

“After the famine receded and our territory began to recover, there was no way to escape poverty just by farming. We realized that truth back then. Only after we rebuilt our trading post and started our trading business did our situation gradually improve. Although the famine led to the collapse of the merchant guild, our family connections and trade partners remained intact, allowing us to survive.”

“A commendable thought. Is that the indomitable will with which you rebuilt the trading guild and raised your siblings so well?”

“It’s not something worth such high praise. There are many others in the territory more commendable than I.”

“You seem quite humble. You appear to place a great emphasis on commerce. How do you think promoting commerce would change the territory?”

“It would bring wealth.”

“Wealth.”

“To achieve power, one must ally with power, and to gain wealth, one must ally with wealth, don’t you think?”

“…!”

Jeron was quite surprised by Becken’s insight.

‘Were there people with such thoughts even in this era?’

Becken believed that riding the wave of capital flow was the path to wealth. This was not a mindset someone living in the Middle Ages would typically have. People of this era tended to be extremely conservative.

Understanding the flow of money and joining the current trend was an idea even modern people would find challenging to grasp. As Jeron looked surprised, Becken immediately kneeled and bowed his head.

“I am deeply sorry, milord. It was presumptuous of me to speak so boldly.”

“No, I was just surprised. It seems I’ve quite accurately judged your character. With you, we can certainly amass considerable wealth.”

“I could not possibly measure your capability, milord, for recognizing my potential and employing me.”

Jeron smiled slightly. Apart from his abilities, Becken’s skill at flattery would indeed serve him well in this world.

“As you’ve said, commerce can indeed be a means to revitalizing a territory. However, lords of this era tend to disdain commerce itself, holding the misguided belief that engaging in trade simply enriches other territories with their local products. Hence the countless tollgates.”

“You, milord, have the authority to neutralize those tollgates through trade rights.”

“Not yet. It’s still a work in progress. That’s why Seria’s role is crucial.”

“Really?”

While they spoke, Seria continued to eat her chicken diligently.

The oil gleaming around her mouth indicated she was too addicted to the taste to stop.

“Really doing it, huh?”

“Hehehe, I’ve been listening. Don’t worry about the capital’s affairs.”

Jeron raised his hand to stop the siblings from scolding Seria.

“Remember, 2% of the total profit is allocated to your family. If you join me, you will enjoy both wealth and honor.”

“I humbly serve milord with all my devotion.”

Jeron’s first rule of relationships. All relationships begin from mutual benefit.