165

The next morning, after stuffing some books into my backpack locally, I left Eilqueel and, as usual, moved through the forest while glancing around restlessly.

This time, I remembered something, so I made a detour to Rukudil.

Thinking back, I hadn’t properly explored here after encountering the mercenary group.

It was a town quite close to the front line, and as shown by the presence of mercenaries, it wasn’t far from the Kingdom of Canaan.

Which meant it was a location many humans could visit, and anything valuable had probably already been taken.

But that was only by Canaan’s standards.

It wasn’t impossible that they overlooked—or simply weren’t interested in—something that might be useful to me.

So I came to Rukudil, but the first thing I did, as expected, was goblin extermination.

Tilting my head and wondering, “Seriously, where do they keep coming from?” I used them as throwing practice targets—I couldn’t neglect training.

Since they were moving targets, not making use of them would be a waste.

‘Still… I knew it, but the destruction here is terrible.’

Being close to the front line, destroying it in case it was retaken made sense.

The defensive walls had lost their original form, and everywhere in town piles of rubble caught my eye.

Compared to inland ruins, there were more deliberately destroyed areas, and I couldn’t help imagining the situation back then.

“Maybe that’s why they show no restraint against Canaan,” I muttered, letting out a breath as I continued searching.

Well, considering the events leading to the war—and that the Kingdom of Canaan pulled the trigger that turned it into a great war—there was no way I, an Imperial citizen… or former human, could feel kindly toward them.

It might seem unreasonable from their perspective, but having ended up like this, I couldn’t escape the category of an Imperial human… former human.

“What a twisted fate.”

I spoke words that sounded understanding even though I didn’t really understand it myself.

I tossed rubble aside and searched for anything that might indicate information about the town.

I found a signpost along what looked like a road, but unfortunately I couldn’t read the writing, and although I discovered a town map board, it had been destroyed by someone.

I doubted humans would bother destroying something like that, so the culprit was probably the goblins nesting here.

They really were beings whose very existence was harmful.

Anyway, concluding “There’s obviously no research facility inside the town,” I headed north to look for military facilities next.

The result: nothing.

Rather, I should say everything had already been looted.

I’d expected it after finding magically preserved grenades, but a large quantity of weapons and ammunition had definitely been carried off to the kingdom.

‘Still, considering how much would remain after two hundred years, I don’t really need to worry that much.’

If they had plenty left, they wouldn’t hesitate to use it against me, and maintaining them with magic would cost resources.

Firearms were precision machines, ammunition consumables—even if valuable, once the battle was won and supplies could be obtained from the Empire, they would have been used freely.

I could easily imagine the Kingdom of Canaan advancing south with everything they had to seize as much as possible from other nations.

“Yeah, there’s really no need to hold back with this country.”

I nodded firmly at the conclusion that came to mind first.

If so, how should I treat the elves who stopped them?

Unfortunately, even if they had reasons they couldn’t ignore, they unquestionably attacked the Empire, leading to the devastation of other nations—so they couldn’t be called innocent either.

‘Not like thinking about it now changes anything.’

For everyone except me, it was two hundred years ago.

I remembered a friend from my human days saying, “If you overthink, you’ll go bald.”

I already had no hair anyway, I thought wryly, touching my hard head as I reached toward another pile of rubble.

I searched stubbornly a while longer, but before I knew it, the sunset was shining on my body.

Reflecting that I’d spent too long searching, I left Rukudil.

The thought that I’d probably experience this many times ahead dampened my mood slightly, but biting into the jerky I took out for dinner blew that away.

“Oh, excellent if I say so myself. This is… number seven.”

I took out my memo pad and circled recipe number seven.

I managed preserved food by slightly altering methods and numbering them after all my trial and error.

I had made up to number twenty, and I hadn’t expected to hit a winner this quickly, so I was quietly pleased.

Since I was at it, I tossed another piece of jerky—about the size of an adult man’s palm—into my mouth.

The flavor of meat spread the more I chewed.

The saltiness was restrained to just slightly strong—surely it would go well as a drinking snack.

‘This one’s best eaten as-is, but I want to taste the others soon too. The spicy ones can be used when making soup…’

While thinking that, I had an idea… no, I ended up having an idea.

“…Right. Next time I’m with someone, I’ll cook properly.”

I’d show them drawing broth from jerky.

I’d demonstrate careful preparation with efficient movements.

I grinned at the birth of a new gag.

Personally, I meant to smile a little wickedly, but as usual, my facial muscles didn’t cooperate.

But then I thought.

“Is just cooking too weak?”

Given what people knew about me so far, they might expect it.

I wasn’t a performing animal, but predictable acts wouldn’t satisfy the audience.

Adding something new was urgent.

Suddenly seized by a sense of mission, I stopped and thought.

“What’s needed—surprise? Or a steady added element?”

I’d already done table manners.

Should I step away from food?

Ordinary performances wouldn’t do.

Something meaningful because I did it—something worth doing because of this body.

I narrowed conditions, rejected ideas one by one, and reached for one remaining option.

“…I’ve got it.”

A true revelation—who would think of something like this?

An unnecessary necessity.

Something everyone wears at least once when cooking.

Yes—an apron.

Completely unnecessary for this body that didn’t care about oil splashes.

And yet I would deliberately wear it.

‘…Perfect! And with a killer joke on top!’

Imagine it.

My figure wearing an apron—and think carefully.

I wasn’t wearing clothes.

Which meant: a “naked apron.”

I let out a quiet chuckle and even planned the pose.

But then I noticed a concern.

“Wait… does a naked apron joke work in this era?”

I didn’t want to believe such wonderful culture had disappeared.

But it was Imperial culture, not Canaan’s or Seizeria’s.

For a while I wandered around pondering, but ultimately I decided to bet on the “dream of men” and head back to Eilqueel.

Without realizing there wasn’t an apron there I could wear, I energetically retraced my steps.

Later, I would find traces suggesting someone might have seen me—but at that time, my head was full of something else and I never noticed.