Chapter 157 Conquered
The lamb in the oven was being expertly carved by a projected, lengthened, and enhanced pair of swords, Kanshou and Bakuya, moving so quickly back and forth that no one around could even see the blades trace across the meat. Yet the whole lamb remained intact.
"Bring it up," Shirou said, sheathing his twin swords, speaking to the soldiers helping in the kitchen.
"Huh? Sir, but… the knife didn't actually cut the lamb, did it?" a soldier asked, puzzled.
"It's already cut," Shirou replied.
"Really?"
Amid the soldier's astonished eyes, Shirou casually used chopsticks to pick a piece of meat from the lamb, as if taking a puzzle piece from a completed picture.
"Bring it up," he repeated.
"Yes, sir!" The soldier responded respectfully, awed by such skill.
The whole roasted lamb was served, and the soldiers could easily take portions without tearing the meat. By the end, only the intact skeleton remained on the platter.
"Oh! What is this? It's ordinary beef, isn't it? How can it taste this good?"
"I'd be willing to serve as a mercenary just for a bite like this," another said.
"If Camelot had food like this back then, I'd never have left," a knight added.
The knights devoured the food greedily, oil dripping from their mouths, while the soldiers sitting on stones below, waiting for a spot, could only lick their lips but remained disciplined, quietly drinking hot water and eating dry rations to fill their stomachs.
"Here, divide these for your soldiers over there. You'll eat after you finish your tasks," Shirou said, taking a tray with dozens of meat pieces and speaking to the lower-ranking assistants.
"Huh? But this is for the knights, right…?" the soldier asked, surprised. How could this noble-looking, capable young master consider giving such food to his subordinates?
"This kitchen is mine. Everyone eats! Forget it, take that tray and come with me," Shirou said, lifting the tray and heading to where the soldiers gathered.
The subordinates and lower soldiers looked astonished. "Sir… what are you doing?"
"You eat too! There's enough for everyone! The broth is almost ready, and I've cooked two big pots of fried rice. Go line up when it's ready," Shirou said firmly, leaving no room for argument.
"Sir Shirou…" Despite his cold, high-class tone, similar to that of the knights and nobles, somehow it moved them deeply.
This young man was as noble as any aristocratic lord present—no one, aside from Artoria, could match his dignity.
"Sir Shirou, you are so merciful," one assisting soldier admired, looking at the tall and handsome boy.
Shirou replied indifferently: "No, cooking should make everyone happy. Besides Artoria and Mor-chan, everyone else is incidental. I considered the nobles' status, so I let them eat first to observe their customs. In my world, everyone is equal. There are no nobles there."
"Ahaha, just imagining that makes my heart race… if such a world really existed, it would be wonderful," one soldier said nervously.
"Alright, here's your portion. Eat first! I've packed the rest; while we serve, you can fill your stomachs," Shirou said, arranging the soup, steaks, roasted meat, and fried rice on trays and handing them out.
"Huh? But you haven't eaten yet, Sir Shirou," a soldier asked.
"Fool, a chef in the kitchen never goes hungry. Eat your share," Shirou waved him off.
"This man truly is a divine messenger! The kitchen god has blessed our victory!"
"Pagan, or rather, the Lord has given us this holy meal," another said.
"Chatter all you want! If you won't eat, I'll take it myself. This is the best meal I've ever had! I could eat forever," one soldier exclaimed.
"You bastard! Don't steal my meat!"
"Ah! Then give me your steak to settle this!"
The soldiers engaged in a friendly food battle this time.
Meanwhile, morale across the army soared. With every delicious bite, their spirits seemed to rise, and their combat effectiveness increased. More importantly, the soldiers now looked at Shirou as if he were a god.
King Pellinore scanned the scene below. "Hey… this isn't good. That follower of Arthur King is winning over the soldiers just with food. Could this be some kind of plot?"
"Huh? Really?" a nearby knight asked.
"Father, you're overthinking. With the King's prestige, he wouldn't need to do such things," Lamorak, holding a meat skewer, tried to calm him.
Pellinore considered: "Lamorak, my honest son… don't you see? If it's not Arthur King scheming, that little brat must be ambitious, trying to overthrow authority."
Unexpectedly, knights eating nearby chimed in: "Then why not recruit me too?"
Pellinore's gaze toward Shirou grew sharper. "Ah! Even some knights have been won over. A formidable opponent!"
"One could have married their daughter to him in the past and won him over to the castle," a lord joked.
"Don't be foolish. Shirou, whether in life or after death, will always be my knight," Artoria said, raising her brow and speaking for the first time.
"Yes! Shirou is part of the Round Table alive and as a heroic spirit in death! Don't even think about it with your petty lands," Mordred shouted.
"Also, Lord Pellinore, if you want to discuss this, first close your mouth," Artoria said.
"Damn… this is delicious. The roasted meat is incredible, and the fried rice too. I can't stop," King Pellinore said, shoveling meat and rice into his mouth at full speed.
"Father…" Lamorak felt a little embarrassed.
But observing the scene, the Celtic knights' eating manners weren't much better than Pellinore's.
From this feast onward, no knight dared underestimate Arthur King, who had only two followers: one, the exceptionally skilled warrior Mordred, and the other, a young chef capable of pacifying countless soldiers with a single meal.
This duo's combined strength could rival three thousand armored cavalry.
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