(Attendance… plz…)
….
Momon stood near the edge of the clearing with Nabe, his massive arms crossed over his chest plate.
He felt a little... no, he felt mostly left out.
Everyone else had something to do. The Swords of Darkness were setting up tents. Reinhard and Felt had gone to gather wood. But no one had said anything for him to do. Was he supposed to choose a task himself?
In Yggdrasil, when he used to go on adventures and quests with his guildmates in Ainz Ooal Gown, everyone had a specific role. Tanks tanked, DPS attacked, healers healed. Camp setup wasn't exactly a game mechanic.
So the question remained once again: was he supposed to initiate a task to look helpful, or was he supposed to wait for the party leader to assign him work?
He looked at the Swords of Darkness busily hammering stakes into the ground. Then he glanced toward the darkening forest where Reinhard and Felt had disappeared.
'Didn't Peter say there could be monsters in there?' Momon thought. But then disregarded that thought immediately.
Everyone heard about their "Ogre Slayer" feat yesterday, so no one stopped them from going there. If they can drag fifteen Ogres, they can handle some firewood or monster if they get attacked by some in the forest.
Deciding that standing around like a lawn ornament was bad for his "adventurer" persona, Momon walked over to the group setting up the tents. His shadow loomed over Peter, who was struggling with a rope.
Peter turned around, startled by the mountain of black metal suddenly behind him. "Momon? Is something the matter?! Or do you need something?"
Momon shook his head slightly. "Is there anything I can help with?" he asked, his deep voice polite but eager.
Peter blinked, then smiled reassuringly. "No, actually. Setting up the tents is almost done, and Reinhard and Felt went to get some wood for the fire. So, no. But please don't worry. I know what you are thinking. There is no need... there really isn't much to do when setting up a simple camp. So no need to feel bad."
It was like Peter saw right through him. Momon knew logically that there was little work to go around, but he had asked just to appear approachable and not like some arrogant high-level player looking down on the "noobs."
"Ahh, okay," Momon said, nodding. "But if there is anything you or anyone needs help with, please do not hesitate in the slightest to ask me or my companion."
He turned to look at Nabe.
She was standing a few feet away, staring intensely at a bug crawling on a tree bark. Her expression was serious, as if she were analyzing a potential threat or perhaps just wondering if it was tasty.
'Well, at least she is curious about nature and other things and all,' Momon thought optimistically.
He turned back to Peter. "Well then, my companion and I will keep watch out for the surroundings until supper. Call us if you need something."
"Haha, sure thing!" Peter replied with a grateful wave.
….
Fifteen minutes later, Reinhard and Felt returned from the tree line.
Reinhard was carrying an armful of thick logs with effortless grace, while Felt walked beside him, empty-handed. Reinhard had refused to let her carry anything, claiming she might get a splinter or hurt herself. Not wanting to argue over the dignity of carrying dead wood, Felt had just listened. It wasn't like she had a burning passion for manual labor anyway.
They reached the clearing where four tents were already pitched in a neat circle.
"Are we late?!" Reinhard asked, concerned that they might have delayed the schedule.
"Not really, actually you are early," Ninya called out from near the fire pit. "And you are carrying some big wood too. Usually, it takes time to find dry logs that size, not to mention chopping them. Did you encounter any monsters?"
"Not at all," Reinhard replied with a smile. "It was quite peaceful."
"Should we start the fire and get cooking?" Felt asked, rubbing her hands together. "I'm starving."
"That I am too," Dyne, the large cleric, joined in, patting his stomach. "Let's get this started."
Reinhard set the wood down and arranged the fire pit with practiced efficiency. Within moments, a cheerful fire was crackling, casting warm light against the gathering darkness.
Then came the cooking.
Reinhard took charge just as they had planned. He set up a large pot over the flames. He worked with the ingredients Peter's party had provided, simple vegetables, dried rations, and added the fresh meat Felt had bought in the city.
It was nothing fancy. No special herbs, no rare spices, no magical pulses. Just water, meat, and root vegetables. It had all the makings of a standard, bland adventurer's stew.
Or it would have been, if anyone else were cooking.
But Reinhard van Astrea possessed the blessing of cooking. It didn't matter what he cooked. He could boil an old boot, and it would taste like a Michelin-star meal.
Within ten or so minute, a smell wafted through the camp that made everyone stop what they were doing. It was rich, savory, and impossibly complex. It smelled like slow-roasted beef, fresh garden herbs, and the comfort of home all rolled into one. It was a smell that shouldn't be possible to produce in a dirt clearing with a rusty pot.
Peter, Lukrut, Ninya, and Dyne gathered around the fire, practically drooling as they stared at the bubbling stew. Momon and Nabe stood a little to the side, observing the phenomenon.
"Wow," Peter whispered, sniffing the air. "What did you do? It smells... incredible."
"Yeah," Ninya agreed, her eyes wide. "Is that really just the dried meat felt brought?"
"Damn, man," Lukrut groaned with hunger. "I haven't smelled something like this in ages. Maybe ever."
"It smells very good, Reinhard," Dyne added, his stomach growling loudly.
Reinhard smiled humbly as he stirred the pot. "Thank you for your compliments. I try to do my best in cooking for Lady Felt."
"Well then," Peter laughed, "Felt wasn't exaggerating when she said we would be shocked."
Reinhard began to serve the food, filling wooden bowls and handing them out. Everyone sat on logs or the ground, spoons ready.
They took their first bite.
Silence fell over the camp. Then, chaos.
"Damn, what is this?!" Lukrut shouted, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth. "I haven't tasted anything like this before! It's the best thing I have ever eaten! I mean it literally."
"This..." Peter looked at his spoon in disbelief. "This is incredible! What did you put in this? It's just dried meat stew, right? Why does it taste like a royal banquet or something?"
"It's delicious!" Ninya exclaimed, eating quickly, her manners forgotten. "I've never had camp food like this. Not ever!"
"Please you don't have to exaggerate it," Reinhard beamed, happy to see them enjoying it. "We have enough for second plates too, so please, eat your fill."
It was magic without mana. Bring the royal chefs of the Empire, use magic cooking spells, it didn't matter. Reinhard's stew, made in a pot in the woods, was simply superior in any way.
Felt chuckled as she ate her food, watching their reactions with smug satisfaction. "Told you guys, didn't I?"
Just like that, the Swords of Darkness began to happily devour their food, chatting and laughing. Felt and Reinhard ate with them, the atmosphere warm and jovial.
The only exceptions were the two figures in black.
Momon and Nabe sat on a log a little distance away. Their bowls were full, steam rising from the delicious stew, but they hadn't taken a single bite.
Nabe couldn't possibly eat something when her master wasn't eating. And Momon... well, being a skeleton had its drawbacks. He physically couldn't eat. If he tried, the food would just fall through his ribs and make a mess.
Reinhard, noticing their stillness amidst the feasting group, turned his blue eyes toward them.
"Is something the matter, Momon... Miss Nabe?" Reinhard asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Is the food not to your liking?"
Momon stared at the bowl of steaming stew in Reinhard's hands.
'Yeah, I have a problem,' Momon thought dryly. 'I can't eat because I am a skeleton. I don't have a stomach, an esophagus, or any flesh at all. Would you be able to help with that?'
Of course, that sarcasm remained locked safely within his mind.
"Ah, it is nothing really," Momon said aloud, his voice smooth and deep, carrying the perfect tone of a stoic warrior. "I ate a large meal before we departed the city. I am still quite full... though I will eat it later in the privacy of my tent."
"I see," Reinhard nodded, accepting the excuse without question. He turned his gaze to the woman beside the armored giant. "Then perhaps Miss Nabe?"
Nabe looked at the bowl Reinhard was offering. Then she looked at Reinhard's face. Her expression was the usual cold mask of indifference she wore for all humans, but she hesitated. To accept food from a lower life form felt... degrading.
She was about to refuse with a sharp remark when Momon interjected.
"It is rude, Nabe," Momon said quickly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He knew that if both of them refused to eat, it would look incredibly suspicious. Humans bond over food; refusing it sets one apart. "Go ahead."
Nabe stiffened, realizing her error. "Yes, Momon."
She took the wooden bowl from Reinhard's hands. She stared at the brown liquid for a moment, as if inspecting it for poison, then lifted the spoon.
She took a small, dainty sip.
Her eyes blinked. Once.
It was... good.
Actually... it was good.
It was actually better than anything she had ever tasted outside, even inside, even though it was blasphemy to even say that for Nazarick, her home. The flavor exploded on her tongue, rich and perfectly balanced.
"It is... really good," she murmured.
The words slipped out unconsciously. She hadn't meant to compliment a human's cooking, but the taste had bypassed her prejudice and hit her taste buds directly.
Reinhard smiled warmly, pleased. "I am glad you liked it. Please take seconds if you want more. We have plenty."
With a polite nod, he turned and walked back to Felt's side near the fire.
Momon watched this interaction with hidden shock.
One has to understand that food from Nazarick would be top-tier no matter what. Made with super ingredients and rich, complex flavors, Nazarick's cuisine was simply the best of the best in the world, especially if you go by the setting he and his friend wrote for Nazarick's chefs and cafeteria.
On top of that, for Nabe, who hated humans with every fiber of her being, to actually say a human's cooking was "really good" was surprising, to say the least.
'Just how good does it taste?' Momon wondered, feeling a pang of jealousy that he couldn't try it. 'Is it really that tasty?'
Alas, he would never know. It would remain a mystery for the Overlord of Death. He made a mental note to ask Nabe about the flavor profile later.
But right now, he had a more pressing concern.
His eyes drifted to the sword at Reinhard's hip. The Dragon Sword Reid.
He hadn't bothered to use appraisal magic on the sword earlier during the walk, as casting spells while marching. So, with everyone distracted by the food and the firelight flickering, it was the perfect time.
He started small.
'[Analyze Item],' Momon cast silently.
This was a basic, low-tier appraisal spell. Low mana cost, low risk. It revealed surface-level information about an item: durability, weight, maybe the creator's name if it wasn't hidden.
He was somewhat expecting it to fail if the sword was high-tier, but he hoped for at least a glimpse.
Nothing. No data pop-up. Just a blank void.
'Expected,' Momon thought calmly. 'If it's a enchanted sword, it likely has basic anti-scrying protection.'
He upped the ante.
'[Greater Full Appraisal].'
This was a high-tier spell. It revealed stats, hidden abilities, elemental affinities, and tier ranking. The mana cost was significantly higher.
Momon waited for the window to appear.
Momon's non-existent breath hitched.
'It... failed?'
This shocked him. He had cast it silently, maximizing his magic penetration, yet it bounced off the sword like a pebble hitting a fortress wall. It didn't even give him anything at all, even that it is a sword or anything.
He narrowed his non existent eyes behind the helmet. 'Fine. Let's just use greate magic.'
He didn't bother with the intermediate steps anymore. He reached for the top shelf.
'[All Appraisal Magic Item].'
This was a one of the highest forms of information gathering in Yggdrasil. It demanded a high mana cost and was designed to crack through almost any anti-information defense unless it had high anti appraisal, revealing everything there is to know about an item.
He cast it.
And it… FAILED.
Momon's mind raced. 'What is happening?!'
Even though there were various ways to block appraisal magic, Anti-Appraisal, Anti-Spy, Divine Class protection, he hadn't seen anyone in this New World capable of blocking his magic at all till now that is.
The strongest magic he had witnessed so far was the Angel Summoning by those knights, which was barely 3rd or 4th tier.
For his spells not to work, not even the All Appraisal, was a catastrophic concern for his super cautious mind.
And once again, he was forcefully reminded of the thing he lacked the most right now.
INFORMATION.
He sat there in the dark, the laughter of the Swords of Darkness ringing in his ears, feeling suddenly very exposed.
He couldn't do anything for now but imagine the worst-case scenarios so that he could prepare and not regret it later.
For all he knew, Anti-Spying or Anti-Appraisal magic was normal in their country.
In the worst case, he had to consider Reinhard an NPC or a Player from Yggdrasil. And same goes for Felt too her master.
"It is bad," Momon muttered under his breath, barely audible.
Nabe, her sharp ears catching the whisper, leaned in closer. "Is something wrong, Momon?"
Momon kept his voice low, almost a vibration in the air.
"We are very, very short on information, Nabe. Very short." He looked at the red-haired boy laughing with Ninya by the fire.
"I have to tell Albedo and Demiurge to focus more on information gathering regarding this world's magic and artifacts," he whispered. "Because without it... there is just so little we can do safely. And not regret it later."
….
A/N: So, how was it? Guys, you have to understand that he is Reinhard, not some guy who just kills people whenever he's dissatisfied, or because someone looked at him the wrong way.
And don't forget to comment, and add this to your library and send power stones for support.
All questions are welcome here:
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