Became a Medieval Fantasy Wizard

Chapter 96



Chapter 96

TL/Editor: raei

Proofreader: Pickhead7

Schedule: 5/week

Illustrations: None.

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As dawn broke, Ian and his companions prepared to set off.

"Where's the nearest castle from here?"

"It's Baron Inoti's castle."

"Let's head there and seek help."

Ian decided to take refuge in a nearby noble's castle.

The opponent was a barbarian.

So they ran away like they were being chased by wild beasts.

Although they were being pursued by enemies, Ian and his party took the time to have breakfast.

It might feel like they were procrastinating, but it was a rational decision.

In a situation where they didn't even know where the enemies were, skipping a meal would only drain their strength unnecessarily.

In fact, since the enemies also did not know where Ian's group was, it was necessary to eat to preserve their strength.

It was a kind of Red Queen[1] effect.

With both sides eating, it turned out to be no waste of time at all.

"Hmm?"

While rummaging through the food storage for breakfast ingredients, Ian discovered a peculiar sack.

He was originally just checking if there were any tomatoes left.

Unfortunately, they had eaten all the tomatoes the day before.

"What's this?"

A tightly wrapped small sack.

It clearly seemed like an item that had been handled with care.

Though the merchants who had stayed in this house were impostors, the house itself was indeed a real merchant's residence.

Therefore, there were valuable items in the storeroom.

Ian carefully unwrapped the sack.

What could be inside? Maybe cloves or pepper?

But as soon as he unwrapped the sack, a fragrant smell tickled his nose.

Ian instantly knew what it was.

"Ian? What are you doing there?"

Kira entered the storeroom, looking around curiously.

Ian immediately extended the sack towards her.

"Kira. Do you know what this is?"

"Um... not sure?"

Kira sniffed the scent, her eyes widening.

"It smells sweet!"

"Right? This is coffee... but I'm not sure what it's called in the Imperial language."

"Coffee?"

The item Ian had found was none other than coffee.

Coffee was a crop grown in the far south of the Empire.

It was a common item in the southern part of the Empire, but mostly unknown in the north.

"It looks like there's a millstone over there. Let's try grinding it."

Ian took the sack containing coffee beans and headed to the backyard.

He gathered some charcoal, lit a fire, and started roasting the beans in a pan.

It was the most primitive way of roasting.

"Ian. What strange thing are you doing now?"

As it was getting close to mealtime, Belenka, who had been looking for Ian, saw him engaged in another odd activity.

"Are you trying to boil spoons?"

"No, what spoons."

Belenka often saw Ian boiling spoons, performing some kind of disinfection.

It was Ian's desperate effort to maintain personal hygiene even while traveling.

However, Belenka couldn't easily understand Ian's actions.

According to Ian, it was a kind of ritual to drive out disease...

She didn't really understand the connection between spoons and diseases, but since the wizard said so, she just went along with it.

She thought to herself that if someone caught a cold later, she might as well boil a spoon in front of them.

"Good timing. Can you grind this for me?"

"...?"

Belenka did as Ian instructed and turned the millstone.

The finely ground coffee powder piled up.

The sweet aroma tickled her nose, and Belenka couldn't help but admire it.

"The scent is really good."

"Isn't it? I'm going to brew coffee with this."

"Oh. That sounds promising."

Fortunately, Ian had also found sugar in the storeroom.

Before discovering the coffee, he had wondered if he should just dump the sugar into his mouth.

Now that he had made coffee, the use for the sugar was pretty much decided.

Ian added water and sugar to the finely ground coffee powder and boiled it.

Finished.

Not Turkish coffee, but rather Turkic coffee.

Ian ground the coffee with a millstone, added it to water, and boiled it—this was how medieval coffee was made.

Espresso machine? A clean Americano? Those are for fragile modern folks.

True coffee is the kind that leaves grit from the ground beans swirling in your mouth!

Ian poured a medieval Americano for everyone, staying true to his Korean roots—he loved coffee.

For Koreans, if chili powder is passion, then coffee is rationality—a drink that forcibly wakes up the brain and boosts efficiency.

As he sipped the thick brew, memories of his past life flashed before him.

Ah! How I miss being tied to the office, drinking coffee, and having to work all night long on an off day!

"Damn, that's good."

The coffee he enjoyed after such a long time was so delicious it nearly brought tears to his eyes, and it was functional too!

Ian's group had to run hard. The awakening effect of the coffee would help them get moving.

"Come on, everyone, grab a cup!"

Drinking coffee in the morning finally made it feel like real life.

Generously, like a boss distributing morning coffee, Ian shared it with Belenka and Kira.

There was even enough left to offer some to the monks.

"This is... really good."

"Yeah! Tasty!"

Unsurprisingly, Ian's employees were thoroughly impressed, and he smiled contentedly at their warm reaction, though he regretted the absence of cakes or cookies to accompany the coffee.

"I'll share some with the monks too."

As he stood up, Belenka hesitated.

"That's... um. Do as you think best."

"...? Why? Is there a problem?"

Could she be reluctant about giving the leftover coffee?

But it was too late to hoard the coffee just among themselves after leaving too many suspicious traces.

Sharing from the start was better than being accused of greedily consuming all the good stuff ourselves.

"I'm not sure if the monks will like it."

"They'll like it."

Ian reassured her and, without much thought, took the coffee to the monks.

"Anyone for morning coffee?"

"...?"

The monks looked on in shock.

"No! Brother! What is this devilishly black water?!"

"Ah, this is..."

Ian started to explain, thinking they didn’t know what coffee was.

But he was mistaken. The monks already knew what it was.

"That! It’s the beverage seen by Saint Marcus when he went on his southern campaign in the empire of sand!"

A saint, huh? Why would a saint go on a southern campaign?

Must have happened in the Takarion Universe.

"Hah. Drinking a heretic's beverage is dangerous for a believer of Heaven's Faith~"

Takarion took this opportunity to tease.

He was jealous of Ian's exploits. It was just the right moment.

Ian was unfazed, almost pleased.

No way, you're not going to drink this good stuff?

Sh*t. Today's coffee is ruined—

"Really not going to drink?"

"Rather, we are concerned. If we carelessly partake in the beverage of heretics, might we not incur divine punishment?"

"Well. I'll reconcile with God through prayer later."

"What kind of talk is that. Just give it to us. We'll return that blasphemous beverage to the earth."

"You want to throw away perfectly good coffee?!"

"Better than drinking it and receiving divine punishment!"

Ian then understood why Belenka had reacted so lukewarmly.

Fundamentally, the monks were conservative and touchy, unable to tolerate anything against the teachings of Heaven's Faith.

As a knight who had often been harassed by clergy, Belenka instinctively distrusted the monks.

"Give it here!"

"No! How can you throw away brewed coffee!"

The idea of throwing out such precious commodities as coffee and sugar was unthinkable.

"Hold on!"

Ian, desperate to protect the coffee, shouted,

"I'll ask right now! Right this instant!"

"??? Ask what?"

"I'm going to ask the heavens if we can drink it!"

Caught off guard by Ian's declaration, the monks hesitated, unable to object rashly.

Given Ian's history of hatching holy relics and overcoming deadly poisons, it would look odd to challenge him now.

'Yeah, if Ian asks, perhaps the heavens will respond...!'

'They will surely say no!'

Ian stood in front of the coffee and shouted in the language of Maronius,

"[Black water! Can I drink it?]"

He deliberately chose a magical language unknown to the monks to make it appear more impressive.

He planned to perform a little show and then, declaring, "[Since it's allowed, I'll drink it~]," make his escape.

However.

[Yes! Of course, Ian.]

Ian had not anticipated that his prayer would actually reach the heavens...!

[Enjoy it to your heart's content~]

"Look over there!"

"What on earth?!"

While Ian was pretending to pray and putting on a show, the coffee pot glittered brilliantly in the sunlight!

"It's a blessing!"

"Ian has blessed the heretic's beverage!"

Ian opened his eyes and was at a loss for words at the sight of the coffee sparkling with divine light.

"..."

What on earth is the deity of Heaven's Faith up to...

---

---

"The saint of coffee! Ian!"

"Let me too! Let me drink the blessed coffee!"

Ian pleaded with the monks to stop making a fuss and finished his breakfast.

It seemed that the deity of Heaven's Faith was just bored and playing tricks.

Would it hurt to just talk openly?

[Challenge – Don't forget to worship the heavens!]

"..."

Ian irritably shut off the status window that popped up like a malicious ad banner.

If they want a serious conversation, finish Anor-lsil or something.

"Oh! This is the blessed coffee!"

"Do you feel any special power?"

Ian asked the monks, who were guzzling down the coffee.

If it truly was blessed, some sort of buff might appear...

"I can't believe it! I feel tremendous power...! Power is surging!"

"My God. Is this the power of a blessing?!"

Ian shook his head in disbelief.

That's the power of caffeine.

But since the monks were joyfully frolicking, he left them to it.

Highly concentrated caffeine is hard to distinguish from a blessing, after all.

"Let's get going."

"Yes!"

Ian left the merchant's house and headed for a nearby castle.

Though they were fleeing, their pace was surprisingly slow.

Belenka had argued for moving slowly.

"We don't know each other's locations. There's no need to exhaust ourselves by moving too quickly."

Indeed, the barbarians and Ian's group were unaware of each other's whereabouts.

They might have initially headed towards the merchant's house selected for the assassination, but what then?

There was no answer.

They might as well spit on their palms to decide.

Of course, a guide with tracking skills would lead the way, so they weren't relying entirely on luck.

But tracking was just as difficult.

In a world without proper maps, chasing an unseen enemy is an incredibly hard task.

Why the situation was so was due primarily to Sister Mionia's betrayal.

Her betrayal had caused the assassins to lose their base, leaving the barbarian trackers adrift.

Thus, Ian's group walked away.

The sun was warm, and a gentle breeze blew.

The scent of the fresh grass growing in the fields was even sweet.

Ian yawned languidly.

Ah, I wish I could just spread out a mat and take a nap...

"We'll pick up the pace once we get closer to the baron's castle."

Their march was leisurely, but they maintained a minimum level of alertness.

Whenever Takarion threw a tantrum, the idea of rest vanished.

"I want to rest... I want to go home..."

Takarion mumbled as broth drooled from his mouth.

Ian was quietly amused.

Can a person sweat that much? Is he melting?

He might shrink by the time we reach the monastery.

"Right. You should have just stayed home. You'd have no meals missed and no risk of assassination. Wouldn’t that be nice?"

Ian taunted, prompting Takarion to scowl.

"I didn’t want to come out either! But sitting in the monastery doesn’t sell the Gospels!"

"Is that so?"

In the Gospel industry(?), fame translates directly into money. The more famous you become, the better the Gospels sell.

Ian whistled softly.

Writers of this era have to hustle and sell on foot.

Must be tough~

"When I become a saint... just imagine how well the Gospels will sell..."

"Aha."

If Takarion had healed Baron Devosi, the surrounding people would have made a huge fuss, proclaiming him a saint.

Already popular, Takarion’s fame would have skyrocketed had he demonstrated a healing miracle. It would have been a golden opportunity to silence even his critics, an event Takarion wouldn’t want to miss.

"But you broke my relic...!"

Takarion, feeling wronged, trembled, his double chin quivering.

Ian was a bit taken aback. Now that he's gotten a little familiar, he's speaking quite openly?

"It wasn’t broken, it hatched. And did I want it to hatch? What can I do if it decided to wake up on its own?"

"..."

"And if you wanted the saint title, you should have rushed to help Baron Devosi the moment he collapsed. What’s the use of whining now, when you lay in the monastery until the rumors reached me?"

Takarion shuddered but couldn't respond. Ian’s words were all factual.

Kira, who had been listening, chimed in.

"While we're on the topic, I have a question. Winnie hasn’t eaten at all. Do you know why?"

The creature, not a relic but hatched from a pure white egg, was now under Kira’s care.

Kira, skilled with her hands, has kept the bird safe.

Ian was comfortable with Kira continuing to look after the bird.

"Hmm. Maybe it’s because that bird is special."

Takarion avoided Kira’s gaze as he muttered to himself.

He still couldn’t meet her eyes.

"Maybe it’s a bird-of-paradise?"

"A bird-of-paradise?"

The Paradise bird, with its grand name, is a bird that flies in the sky living only on dew, not needing to eat and having no legs since it never needs to land.

"But this one has legs."

"Maybe they'll fall off as it gets older?"

"Really?"

Ian glanced at the young bird, tilting his head.

The baby bird mimicked Ian, tilting its head too.

"Are you a bird-of-paradise?"

"Peep! Peep!"

Ian wasn’t a bird YouTuber in his past life, so he didn’t know much about birds.

Even if he had been a bird YouTuber, he probably wouldn’t know; this bird was likely a genuine fantasy bird.

But since Takarion said so, Ian thought it might be true.

He's the guy who brought the relic, so he must know something.

"Caw! Master!"

"What is it, Oberon?"

Oberon flapped his wings and landed on Ian’s shoulder.

Being a bird of freedom, Oberon often disappeared for days at a time before returning.

Ian had no intention of stopping him.

After all, the bird he had found was just a stray that he planned to release back into the wild.

It had only stayed because it liked the food Ian gave it.

[I've spotted some strange guys nearby!]

It was not welcome news.

[They were wearing bear skins!]

"Either a crazy hunter or... a barbarian. One of the two."

Most likely the latter.

Ian passed along the news Oberon had brought to Belenka.

---

[1. raei: wikipedia: The Red Queen's hypothesis is a hypothesis in evolutionary biology proposed in 1973, that species must constantly adapt, evolve, and proliferate in order to survive while pitted against ever-evolving opposing species.]

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