Continental Hero Senki

When the sun was approaching the horizon. From the cooking area, I hear a creepy sound.

The figure of the Lord of this House, or Sarah, who wears an apron and makes dinner, is somewhat uncomfortable to watch... Not that it doesn't look good on me, but when I think she's doing such a family thing that she flies her fists at me and on the battlefield she snaps the neck of her enemies, it doesn't stick.

Me and Julia are relaxing in the living room in silence listening to the sound. No, to be precise, Julia is the only one relaxing, and I'm war-torn.

Since the official building here is not very large, it is a medium-to-modern version of the dining kitchen, so to speak, with a direct connection between the cooking area and the living room. That's why I know exactly what Sarah is making like, but I don't really know what she's making.

I often see it in cartoons and stuff, and I'm worried that it will bring dishes of color that I'm not sure if it's blue or purple or tea or fluorescent. No, I don't think you have to worry about that unsure thing being summoned if you see how that sandwich is done at noon.

"Uh, Sarah, I knew I was gonna hand it to you..."

"Yes, it's okay!

I just get more anxiety when people say that in a voice that doesn't sound okay at all.

"Hey Julia. Is Sarah always like that?

Squeeze your voice so it doesn't sound like Sarah in Hell's ear and ask Julia softly as she sits next to me playing with her stuffed animal.

Then she nodded once, cockle.

Sarah has a poor attitude that is characteristic of someone who doesn't cook well. Sarah has a tight look and body when she sets up a sword or rides a horse, but now her face wrinkles between her eyebrows and unnecessarily strains her shoulders. Or weird way to hold a knife in the first place. That'll hurt you.

I wonder if it's always like that, Sarah gets more worried than Julia.

But I can't even help her to refuse it. If you can't do it, your fists are going to fly. If you get hurt by that clap...,

"Ouch!

... This is what I'm talking about.

"Hey Julia, is this the usual thing too?

"... occasionally"

They do it every now and then.

Exactly when I get here, I'll have to help. I don't want to eat "fresh vegetable salad eaten with ketchup (metaphor) - with shards of nails" or anything like that.

I knew I'd help.

"It's okay! Yuzef, sit down!

Still stubborn. but this one depends on the future of Julia and my stomach. You can't leave.

"Even though you're hurt?

"It's no big deal... if you lick it, it'll heal"

"Are you willing to spit in the dish?

"Oh, that's... hey"

"Besides, if you take too long, Julia starves to death. So let me help you."

"Ugh..."

And that's why I'm going to keep Sarah's hand cooking for a while and make it for two. Just as teaching Sarah how to hold a knife later......,

"If you say so, what do you make?

"Er, I don't have much ingredients, and I didn't know Yuzef was coming, so use this and this..."

Uh, right. I'm sorry. I didn't care. I can't go to the market now, and should I have brought something instead of a souvenir? Well, you can reduce my amount there, and Silesia is not a minor problem in the first place because it's a "light dinner, extravagant lunch" habit.

So cook appropriately. The beginning of the task where I prepare the ingredients and Sarah simmers in a pan and Julia just observes it. Why are you taking this one seriously, Julia? Is it weird that a man stands in the kitchen?

"Yuzef. Can the flavor be like this?

Sarah, who was simmering the soup, poked a small plate at me. What I make is common in Silesia and the taste is close to consomme soup. It is a delightful dish of octane delight in the world that the cooking method and ingredients are simple. It'll take a while, though.

So, the key thing to do is...

……

"What do you say?

…………

"Say something!

I can't say. I can't say it tastes very eggy. There is one possible cause. Or else I wouldn't even have to deal with it.

I have no choice. Let's just say I'm prepared to be beaten to the dovetail thinking it's for Julia's future.

"Sarah, are you grabbing the ash?

When I heard that, Sarah solidified for dozens of seconds without blinking, and listened back.

"... do you need to?

The answer was unexpected.

While there was a lot going on, a few dozen minutes of cooking got the dinner in order for now.

All that was done was soup with gray juice and spices to taste, bread, sausage that had been properly stored, and cabbage vinegar pickling (Zawarclout). It's a lineup that only looks like breakfast to modern Japanese, but this is normal in this country.

By the way, the price of spices is cheaper than I thought.

It never becomes the title of a book like this one's medieval fantasy world, nor does it mean pussy beating around spices like this one's medieval. There are many reasons, but before you do, let them eat.

"" "I'll have it" "

Whatever the meat stain, pre-meal eyesat must not be missing...... and that's what the ancient book says. It must be Ambush before dinner. Is it possible to put a needle in the calf or something?

mouth the dish Sarah and I made, thinking about what doesn't matter. It's delicious to say so yourself. I thought Sarah, sitting in my front, was stopping her hand.

"What's up?

…………

... Oh no, it's not delicious? Don't I have more cooking skills than Sarah? Am I the one with the taste tone craziness? I don't know what to do. I let Julia eat weird food.

But then Julia says nothing and eats in the first place. No, in her case, it's silent in the first place, so I can't tell if you think it's delicious or not, and you're disparaging me in your heart.

"... Um, Yuzef. Can I have a word?"

I'm sorry, Sarah said out of sight.

"Sorry."

"... Yes?

Why did they apologize? My question was resolved shortly after.

"I was a bad cook..."

"... Oh, yeah. Right."

Thus Sarah realized safely that she was a bad cook.

Well, if you could feel it, there's room for improvement... right?

---

To tell the truth, she, Sarah Marinovska, has had a slight thought for a long time: "I'm not a bad cook".

But it was because of her masculinity in a sense, that "there is no need for a woman to cook", and because she was in a closed environment: the army. This kind of thing overlapped, Sarah's culinary skills never rose, and she herself didn't feel the need to improve her skills.

The turning point came on July 28, 637, Continental Calendar, when the Spring War virtually ended and Sarah returned to Sironsk, the king's capital. That is, the day she picked up Julia in the Silonsk Glades.

From that day on, she starts self-catering.

Until before, she often finished her meals in army cafeterias, in the town's mass canteen, etc., and also ended up making them with something simple. But I can't live like that any more than a guardian can.

So she slowed down and finally started cooking.

Of course, there's no way a person who hasn't cooked much before suddenly gets better at cooking. Sarah wasn't the exception to that, but that wasn't the only problem.

It is in that the person serving the meal said Julia, an orphan, who also had a difficult life with the meal of the day.

For Julia, it is luxurious just to say that it can be found in a meal. Even if that meal is something like a dish made by a Mesimaz woman.

The first time Sarah cooked an authentic dish (like) and offered it to former orphan Julia.

"Hey, Julia? How's that? Yummy?

against that word. Julia wept in her eyes,

"Delicious."

I replied. I answered.

Thus began Sarah's culinary history, which became a small tragedy for someone.