Menu 23: Pizza
The report regarding the engagement with the Slane Theocracy's forces at Carne Village had served as a convenient excuse to summon me to the castle. However, I knew all too well that the "hearing" was merely a formality. As I had expected, the meeting devolved into a public lynching—a farce where the nobility attempted to force me to admit that my report was a fabrication. They were desperate to prove that no such event had occurred, all in a petty attempt to undermine the King's authority.
(Those damn nobles...)
I spat the words out in the silence of my mind. I had indeed encountered a special forces unit from the Theocracy, and I had been saved by a man named Ainz Ooal Gown. Even though I had brought back armor as evidence, the anti-royalist faction dismissed it as an Imperial plot. They went so far as to suggest that a magic caster named Gown didn't even exist. I finally lost my temper and raised my voice, earning a sharp reprimand from the King. Yet, even the King could not hide how poorly he looked. As the council adjourned for the day, I let out a low groan.
(He has grown so thin.)
Lately, the King had been bedridden, complaining of malaise after every meal. We had food testers, so it was likely a natural illness, but the fear that he might pass away haunted me.
(It must be the stress.)
A King who believed my words, pitted against nobles who chose to ignore the truth for their own gain. The constant political warfare was clearly taking a toll on his body. I found myself wishing Lord Gown would visit. As I approached my estate, I noticed an unfamiliar carriage parked outside.
(A noble?)
It was a beautiful white carriage pulled by Sleipnirs—legendary eight-legged steeds. I ran toward it, my heart racing with a sudden suspicion.
"Are you Mr. Gazef Stronoff?"
I gasped as a beautiful maid stepped from behind the carriage. I had attended many aristocratic balls as the Captain of the Royal Guard, but she was more stunning than anyone I had ever met. Her hair was swept up in an elegant updo, and she wore glasses that gave her an intellectual air. I was completely mesmerized.
"I—yes, that's right. Forgive me, but who are you?"
"My apologies for the delay. I am Yuri, a maid in the service of Lord Ainz."
As she gave a graceful bow, I whispered to myself that I should have known. Her poise and speech were impeccable. No noble in the Kingdom possessed such a carriage or such horses. It had to be Lord Gown.
"Lord Ainz, Kawasaki. Mr. Stronoff has returned."
Yuri called out and opened the carriage door. Lord Gown stepped out, wearing the same robes and mask he had worn at Carne Village.
"Lord Gown! You actually came to visit."
I hadn't intended my previous invitation to be a mere social pleasantry, but I was genuinely moved that he had followed through. However, he had mentioned another name. I tilted my head in confusion until a low voice drifted from inside the carriage.
"Hey, Ainz. Aren't you going to introduce me?"
"Ah, my apologies. Captain, this is my friend, Kawasaki."
Lord Gown stepped aside to reveal a man with black hair and dark eyes. He was powerfully built.
"Is the reason you wear a mask, Lord Gown...?"
"Exactly as you suspect," Ainz replied.
I understood immediately. Having Southern blood myself, I had faced my own share of hardships. I knew exactly why they would want to hide their faces in this kingdom.
"In that case, please, come inside. You shouldn't stay where you can be seen."
The carriage was already drawing too much attention. As I ushered them toward the house, Kawasaki called back over his shoulder.
"Hey, Brain! Get out here already!"
Brain? I froze and looked back at the carriage. Brain Unglaus was slowly stepping down.
"Brain... it's been a long time."
"Yeah. You look well, Gazef."
I remarked that it had been since the grand tournament, and he gave a small laugh. I wanted to ask where he had been all this time—I hadn't heard so much as a rumor—but I decided that getting my guests inside was the priority.
"Please, come in. It's a modest home, but make yourselves comfortable."
I opened the door, unaware that this visit would become the key to purging the nobles who had bared their fangs at the King.
+++
When we decided to visit Gazef, the Guardians had been split on the decision. Albedo's opposition had been the most vocal. Even though I could humanize myself, I couldn't exactly bring a parade of monsters into the capital. We had compromised: Yuri would accompany us, while Shadow Demons and Eight-Edge Assassins provided hidden security. I had brought Brain along, knowing he and Gazef were old acquaintances.
"Please, sit. The heat outside must have been grueling. Have some water."
Gazef was a straightforward, likable man with a healthy tan. He seemed genuinely pleased to see us.
"Thank you for the invitation, Gazef. And you as well, Ainz," I said.
Ainz reached for his mask and revealed his face—the human guise I had crafted for him.
"I see... so a magic caster of your caliber hides his face to conceal the color of his hair and eyes," Gazef noted.
"Indeed. People can be quite petty when they see someone different," Ainz replied smoothly.
I was impressed by how well Ainz could ad-lib. I took a sip of the water provided by the elderly couple who served as Gazef's housekeepers. It was cool and had a faint scent of wood from the bucket.
"I'm sorry for declining your offer at the village. I had been separated from Kawasaki and was searching for him. We've been close friends for over eight years."
"I understand completely. One cannot abandon a friend," Gazef said, nodding. I could see why Ainz liked him; his blunt, honest nature reminded me of Touch Me.
"Is Mr. Kawasaki a magic caster as well?"
"Me? No, I'm just a chef. I can use a little basic magic, though," I replied.
"A chef, you say?" Gazef murmured with interest before turning his gaze to Brain, who was standing at attention like Yuri. "By the way, Brain... what have you been doing until now?"
"I was drifting through battlefields as a mercenary. Then one day, I met Kawasaki. He beat me within an inch of my life and promised to make me stronger. Since then, I've been in the service of him and Lord Ainz."
Brain delivered the cover story flawlessly. Demiurge had really put him through the ringer with rehearsals.
"He defeated you...?"
"I have this hair and these eyes," I chimed in. "I've had to train my body just to keep the idiots away. I can handle myself."
Gazef seemed to accept the explanation. As we talked, it became clear that the Kingdom was rife with discrimination.
"Actually, Gazef. I have a favor to ask," Ainz said.
"If it is within my power, I will grant it."
He answered before even hearing the request. That was the measure of the man.
"I'd like you to spar with Brain. He feels he hasn't truly grasped how much he's grown. I am a magic caster, and Kawasaki is still significantly stronger than him. Sparring with the man who once defeated him will give him the perspective he needs."
Living in Nazarick had given Brain a bit of a crisis of confidence. Gazef agreed immediately, and they moved to the courtyard.
"Gazef, would you mind if I borrowed your kitchen?" I asked.
"Why is that?"
I showed him the supplies I'd brought. "I want to cook a meal as a sign of our burgeoning friendship."
"Captain, Kawasaki's cooking is divine," Ainz added. "You really should experience it."
Gazef smiled. "I look forward to it then. Please, use whatever you need."
I headed to the kitchen with Yuri while Ainz went to watch the duel. The kitchen was equipped with a proper stone oven and was immaculately clean. I let out a whistle of approval.
"Thanks, old timer. I'll make sure you get a taste of something good too," I said to the elderly man who guided me. I pulled my supplies out of my "luggage"—actually the Item Box—and laid out flour, sugar, oil, yeast, and salt.
"Yuri, boil some water."
"Understood."
Gazef already knew of Ainz's power, but I was a new variable. My goal was to demonstrate my worth through a dish he had never seen, hoping he would tell the King about it. Today, I wasn't making bread. I changed into my chef's whites and checked the oven.
+++
"Lord Kawasaki, the water is ready."
"Thanks. Pour it in slowly, please."
I mixed the ingredients in a bowl while Yuri assisted. She was a fast learner.
"Alright, we'll let this sit. Now, Yuri... how are your knife skills?"
She admitted she couldn't cook, but she could handle a blade. I handed her bell peppers, onions, and sausages. "Cut these into bite-sized pieces." I moved to the hearth and began warming a pot of sauce I'd brought from the Tomb.
"What is that, Lord Kawasaki?"
"Tomato sauce. We're making pizza today. It's simple, easy to share, and perfect for a group."
Pizza? Yuri had never seen it on the cafeteria menu. She set to work, and I watched her with a smile. "Don't be too precise. This isn't a dish that requires perfection."
"Understood."
She decided to try various shapes since she wasn't sure what "rough" meant. Meanwhile, my dough had finished proofing. I tossed it onto the floured counter and began stretching it by hand.
"Here we go!"
I spun the dough, watching it expand into a massive, perfect circle. Yuri stared in awe at the speed of the transformation.
"Okay, Yuri. Help me line the edge with sausages."
We worked together to create a stuffed crust. It was a bit difficult for her, and the result was slightly lumpy, but I encouraged her. "For a first time, it's great. This is party food—don't sweat the small stuff."
I spread the tomato sauce and handed her the bowl of toppings. "You handle the toppings. Just spread them evenly. I'm going to check the oven."
Yuri looked at the dough with a look of terrifying intensity. (Failure is not an option,) she seemed to be thinking. I couldn't help but smile; she was so serious about every little thing.
+++
I sat in the courtyard, catching my breath. What started as a practice session with wooden swords had escalated into a serious duel. In the end, a strike from my overhead stance caught Brain's head, ending the match. But his blade had been inches from my throat. If we'd used steel, we both would have died.
"Phew... you've gotten strong, Brain."
"No... so have you."
Brain hadn't even used his primary weapon, the katana. We had both been holding back, yet he was undeniably more powerful than he was at the tournament.
"Do you feel the progress now?" Ainz asked, standing nearby.
"Yes, Lord Ainz. Thank you for indulging my selfishness."
Brain bowed deeply. Seeing him like that, I realized he had found a master he truly respected. Just then, a heavenly aroma wafted from the house.
"It seems Kawasaki's cooking is ready," Ainz said with a smile.
We entered the house to find a circular dish unlike anything I had ever seen. It was topped with vegetables, sausages, and a layer of melted yellow "cheese"—a luxury I'd only tasted once at a royal banquet.
"Perfect timing. It just came out of the oven," Kawasaki said, looking sharp in his white uniform. To create such a masterpiece in so little time... he might be better than the head chef at the palace.
"Eat it while it's hot."
He headed back to the kitchen to fetch another. Yuri stood by with a pitcher of a dark, bubbling liquid.
"Lord Ainz, please."
"Thank you, Yuri."
"And for you, Captain."
I took the cup with both hands. The liquid was black and made a strange crackling sound. "Yuri, what is this?"
"Lord Kawasaki calls it 'Cola.' He says it pairs perfectly with the pizza."
I reached for a slice of the pizza. As I lifted it, the cheese stretched out in long, unctuous threads.
"Well, Lord Gown. I shall savor your friend's craft."
"Please. It really is delicious."
I took a bite. The crust had a delightful crunch (crunch!), followed by the tang of the sauce and the savory meat. The richness of the cheese tied it all together.
"This is incredible! I've never tasted anything like this!"
Ainz smiled, looking like a proud friend. Brain reached for a slice as well.
"Eat up, Brain."
I noticed the shift in Ainz's tone. He was formal with me, but casual with Kawasaki. With Brain, he was firm—the tone of a master to a servant.
(A difference in trust, perhaps.)
I took a sip of the Cola and nearly jumped.
"Nngh?! What is this...?"
The liquid stung my tongue with a powerful carbonation, far more intense than any ale. Then, a deep sweetness followed.
"It's a beverage from our homeland. It's not alcoholic, so don't worry," Ainz explained as he took a long draught of his own. It was a perfect palate cleanser for the oily pizza. I couldn't stop eating.
"Oh! There's even more sausage in the crust!"
Every bite was a surprise. Kawasaki returned with a second pizza—this one loaded with seafood.
"Seafood Special! We've got octopus, shrimp, squid, and scallops. Dig in!"
To see such fresh seafood in the landlocked capital was a shock. It would cost a fortune to transport this. Yet Kawasaki and Ainz ate without a care in the world. I took a bite of the seafood pizza and was floored by the flavor. The shrimp was springy, the scallops melted in my mouth.
But as I chewed a piece of shrimp, a memory surfaced. My hand stopped.
"Gazef? Is something wrong?" Brain asked, shaking my shoulder.
I blinked and realized Ainz and Kawasaki were staring at me. I thanked Brain for pulling me out of my thoughts and decided to speak. These men were outsiders, but they were powerful and wise.
"It is not something to be shared loudly... but our King has been suffering. Between the nobles' schemes and the attack on the village, he is exhausted. Lately, he has grown terribly thin."
"From stress?" Ainz asked.
"Perhaps. But he collapses after eating. We've checked for poison and magic, but we found nothing."
Ainz considered this from a magic caster's perspective. But I added one detail that had been bothering me. "Now that I think about it... the King seems to get much worse whenever he eats seafood."
Kawasaki's face went pale. He stepped toward me, his eyes burning with intensity.
"Gazef, tell me everything. What exactly happens when he eats it?"
"W-what's wrong?"
"Just tell me! What are the symptoms?!"
I set my pizza and Cola down. "His face turns red and swells up. He complains of terrible itching. He starts coughing and says he can't breathe. Since it's a gift from his subordinates, he feels he has to eat it, but..."
Kawasaki's brow furrowed. He looked at Ainz.
"Ainz! It's an allergy!"
"Kawasaki, what are you talking about?" Ainz asked, alarmed.
Kawasaki held up a piece of pizza, his voice grave. "Listen to me. Food can be harmless to one person and poison to another. It's called an 'allergy.' For example, if a person with a wheat allergy eats flour, their body overreacts. In extreme cases... it kills them."
"Kills them?!" I gasped.
Kawasaki explained it simply: inside the body, there are "warriors" meant to fight disease. But when the wrong food enters, those warriors turn into berserkers. They lose their minds and attack the body itself. If it continues, the internal damage becomes fatal.
"You're saying someone is trying to assassinate the King using his own body?" Ainz asked.
"It's too early to say for sure," Kawasaki said, "but if someone knows about his condition and keeps 'gifting' him seafood, it's malicious. Gazef, who is sending the seafood?"
"A group of nobles who recently defected from the anti-royalist faction..."
Kawasaki stood up so fast his chair clattered. "Take me to him. Now! If it's an allergy, every second counts. If we don't treat him before he has a major reaction, he's a dead man."
The King was bedridden today, having skipped lunch. I sprang to my feet.
"Do you know how to treat this 'allergy'?"
"I do. I have the medicine. Just get me and Ainz into the castle. I need to see him to be sure, but we have to move now!"
I didn't have permission to bring guests, but if the King died, the Kingdom would crumble. I didn't care about the rules anymore. I ran for the carriage, driven by a single, desperate mission: I would not let my King die.
***
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