Who Is the World’s Strongest Appraiser? ~Living in Another World With Satisfying Meals~

Once, Come Visit—The Hot Spring City Of Yelga

The loud flapping of the wyvern’s wings and the rapid scenery passing outside the window should’ve made the ride rough, yet Yuuri noticed how little strain they felt inside the basket. Amid the lively chatter while gazing outside, it struck him—despite the speed and noise, the ride was oddly comfortable.

“Brook-san?”

“Hm? What is it, Yuuri?”

“Is this wyvern really good at flying?”

“Huh?”

“We’re going incredibly fast, but it doesn’t shake at all.”

“Ah, that.”

Yuuri lived by the principle of asking experts when unsure, so he turned to Brook, who’d likely know. Brook chuckled at the question, pleased—this wyvern was an acquaintance, and praise never hurt.

“They ferry people daily for work. Just flying isn’t enough; they’re trained to prioritize passenger comfort, or the boss gets mad.”

“The boss gets mad.”

“Their motto’s ‘Sky Travel in Comfort!’ Apparently, all the wyverns are drilled on passenger care.”

“That boss sounds tough.”

“Very. Defy them, and you get ‘convinced’ by force.”

“……Huh? That’s unexpectedly extreme. Physically strong?”

“Rumor is, the boss duels wyverns they fancy and recruits them afterward.”

“………Whoa.”

The boss was more aggressive than Yuuri imagined.

Still, if they were that strong, the wyverns probably followed like a pack leader. Not entirely wrong. Their service was famed for comfort, and their wyverns were notably docile. Rebelling meant a physical lecture and pay cuts, so none dared act up. Though, the boss likely handpicked wyverns with no such tendencies. Quite the standards.

Amid their carefree chat, the wyvern flew on steadily. The trainees—Lelei and others—cheered as they soared over a massive mountain. For rookies like them, wyvern rides were rare. While carriages were manageable, wyvern flights strained wallets.

“By the way, why a wyvern this time? I heard you usually take carriages.”

“Carriages take a week one-way. This guy? Three hours.”

“……Huh.”

“The land route detours this mountain. A week by road, so we opted for time-saving wings.”

“O-oh…”

Yuuri nodded, eyeing the absurdly large mountain below. Indeed, the view revealed towering peaks and dense forests—building a direct path through would be hell, especially with monsters roaming.

Glancing further, he spotted what seemed like a road skirting the mountain’s far side. At this altitude, it was hard to confirm, but it likely looped around.

Notably, the journey from the royal capital, Draheln, to Yelga took a week by carriage at standard speed—rest stops included. Pushing nonstop with survivalist camping might cut it to four days, but Yuuri would collapse. His stamina was average; he couldn’t match hardened adventurers. Thus, the swift yet leisurely wyvern ride was a blessing.

“Are we taking a wyvern back too?”

“Nah. Land route. The trainees need to learn travel survival.”

“I see.”

Yuuri pitied the trainees’ packed curriculum. While Lelei’s group reveled in the sky, their real training began at their destination. Unlike Yuuri and Rooks, who could sightsee, the others faced drills. Hang in there, he silently cheered.

…Judging by Brook’s tone, the return trip would be one long lesson.

After the enjoyable flight, the group disembarked near Yelga’s gates, where other wyvern transports and carriages waited. Entry required ID checks, hence the outer landing zone.

Some services had gate access—contracted with nobles, merchants, or the city itself. But as ordinary travelers, Yuuri’s group alighted outside.

“Thank you, wyvern!”

While others checked for belongings, Yuuri approached the wyvern to thank it. The three-hour flight had been pleasant, and he figured the creature deserved gratitude. (To the wyvern, though, three hours was like a casual stroll.)

The wyvern, lying calmly, half-lifted its eyelids to stare at Yuuri, who kept smiling. It tapped the ground lightly with a forefoot—no clue what it meant, but Yuuri took it as a “don’t worry.”

Meanwhile, Rooks, ever fearless, chirped near the wyvern’s snout. Somehow, they communicated, the wyvern occasionally rumbling back. A surreal sight: a slime chatting with a wyvern.

“We owe you. We’ll call again if needed.”

“Grul.”

“Yeah, we’ll drop by. Stay safe.”

“Gyaru.”

Brook, confirming everyone was ready, bid the wyvern farewell. It nuzzled his shoulder before he patted its snout, leaving the trainees awed.

…Oddly, no one questioned how Brook conversed with it. The normality erased all doubt.

With a final glance at the waving group, the wyvern ascended, its majestic form soon a speck in the sky.

After ID checks at the gate (Yuuri’s being his appraiser’s license), they entered. Unlike the others’ guild cards, his required verification. Without IDs, temporary permits were pricey and scrutinized.

Back in Draheln, Ali had handled Yuuri’s entry—his reputation as a truthseer granted instant trust. His clout was terrifying.

“Sweets of the hot spring city—!”

“Street food of the hot spring city—!”

“Don’t just bolt—! Licht, grab Lelei!”

“On it.”

The vibrant streets and vendor calls triggered Hermine and Lelei. Kurresh snagged Hermine’s collar, while Licht—anticipating this—caught Lelei mid-lunge. Flawless teamwork.

“Let go, Kurre! Sweets await!”

“Licht, release me! Food! Food!”

“No, no, no! We secure lodging first! Weren’t you listening?!”

““Oh.””

“…Please stop charging at your whims…”

The duo’s flailing ceased at Kurresh’s scolding. Their sheepish tilts were cute; their impulsiveness, less so.

Naturally, Ali’s lecture followed, ears pinched. No one intervened—they’d earned it.

“Yuuri.”

“Yes, Brook-san?”

“We’ll scout lodgings, but we’re already booked here.” He handed a map.

“Blue Spring Inn, got it.”

“Right. Stick with us and you’ll be bored, so feel free to sightsee.”

“Really?”

Yuuri, tucking the paper into his bag, was surprised. Though here as a tourist, he hadn’t expected solo permission so soon. An unfamiliar city, even with Rooks, seemed risky.

Ali’s interjection confirmed his doubts:

“Stick with Yakumo for shopping.”

“Yakumo-san?”

“He’s been here before. No need for lodging drills. …Licht, join us. Your input’s needed.”

“Understood.”

Yakumo and Licht, though trainees, were adults. Licht relearned treasure-hunting basics; Yakumo, adapting to regional norms. Their tasks often differed.

Yakumo, now beside Yuuri, wore his usual hybrid attire—hunting robes with short boots.

“Yakumo-san, you’ve been to Yelga before?”

“Several times. A fine city indeed.”

“Got any souvenir recommendations?”

“Hmph. Leave it to me.”

With Yakumo as guide (and minder), Yuuri headed for the shops, waving at Kurresh. Rooks, ever content, bounced alongside.

Yelga’s streets were spacious, lined with stalls and dining spots under parasols. Hawkers’ voices filled the air—boisterous uncles, cheeky aunties, playful lads, smiling lasses. Even a pair of siblings pitched their store. The lively scene was exhilarating.

“Yakumo-san, why’d you come along?”

“For magic stones.”

“Stones?”

“My talismans use powdered magic stones. Quality ones are always needed.”

A fitting answer for a curse-specialist. He’d tagged along partly for shopping, though he planned to take local jobs too.

And, unofficially, he was Yuuri’s babysitter during training sessions. Unspoken, but everyone knew.

“Yakumo-san.”

“Hm?”

“Thanks for this.”

“…Hah. No trouble. Shopping’s a fine diversion.”

Yakumo’s laugh drew one from Yuuri too. Rooks, hopping happily, got a head pat.

The magic stone shop lay deep in an alley, so they wandered the main street first.

“So much tasty-looking food.”

“Tourists mean diverse cuisines. Something’ll suit you.”

“Can’t wait.”

“But pace yourself. Save room for lunch with the others.”

“Right. Let’s scout options to share.”

Yuuri nodded earnestly. Lelei and Hermine, likely half-distracted by food, would appreciate tips. Sharing treats was his idea of joy.

The street offered everything—skewered meats, savory crepes, steamed veggies using hot springs, chilled drinks for post-bath guests. Flavors ranged from mild to spicy, like a global food fair.

“Yakumo-san, any recommendations?”

“Mine? That.”

“……Boiled eggs?”

“Hot spring-boiled. Simple, yet atmospheric.”

“Hot spring eggs”—here, sold fully boiled, unlike Japan’s runny version. Yakumo explained:

“This shop does hard-boiled. Another further in serves them half-done, in broth.”

“Huh?”

“Same hot spring, different temperatures.”

“Ah… makes sense.”

In Japan, hot spring eggs varied by region—hard-boiled at high temps, runny at lower ones. Yelga mirrored this, with shops labeling their styles.

“Both sound good.”

“Indeed. For the group, buying both to share would suit.”

“Yeah. Tasting everything together sounds fun.”

“Precisely. That’s this town’s charm.”

Yakumo’s grin was infectious. Yuuri smiled back. With so much left to explore, the trip promised joy. Their hot spring adventure had only just begun.

Of course, the trainees returned for lunch utterly drained from drills—though good food revived them swiftly. A small mercy.