Chapter 59: Recruitment

"Gula, you... "

His face clearly showed that he had a lot to say but chose not to. Even if Gula was a bastard of a commoner, it was still a weed that even a passing dog wouldn't eat.

He had no idea that Gula would boldly stride out of the main gate like this. It might have been better to suggest a price negotiation to the Marélof Count.

"But it's the truth. Gula seeds are edible. You can roast them, boil them, or even eat them raw. When you consider their nutrients, satiety, and efficiency, they can be called a divine blessing."

"Nonsense."

Had no one ever known about such an amazing crop before? It was almost infuriating to think that such a claim could be made in the Varyel Empire. Even now, scholars in the royal palace are continuously researching ways to overcome the great famine.

And yet, a weed like Gula being a divine blessing?

"I've been eating them recently."

"Eating them?"

"Yes. They taste good. I'm sure, Lord Romandoro, if you try them once, you won't be able to stop. The cultivation period is about a month, so there's no problem in winter."

Creak.

The carriage, which had been running smoothly, stopped abruptly. It stopped once at the village square, once in front of the entertainment district, and once more in the residential area. Each time the carriage stopped, the subordinates who had set out earlier climbed aboard.

But Berick's face looked a bit strange. Not only was it flushed, but every time he smiled, the smell of wine wafted over. Ian glared at him and lightly scolded him.

"Berick. Didn't you do what you were supposed to do?"

"Huh? No, no. Just a little. The innkeeper kept insisting."

Berick, who had climbed aboard in front of the entertainment district, sniffed. How much wine had he managed to drink in that short time? As Ian was about to frown, Berick quickly reported the situation and changed the subject.

"That place is the best tavern in the area. Dozens of people heard my story. They even said they would put up a notice."

-If you dig up Gula, I will pay you.

This is what Ian meant by 'recruitment.' In the forests near Bratz, the villagers would dig up Gula, and in the areas near Marélof, the Marélof villagers would do the same.

"Did you specify the payment and the period?"

"Of course. One gold coin for three large bundles. Only accepted within the next month."

One gold coin was the amount a lower-class laborer could earn in a month. Since Gula is small, filling three bundles would be a challenging task, but a person in good physical condition could probably do it within half a month.

"But isn't that too generous? One gold coin?"

"That's what it takes to make them search the forest with fire in their eyes. When you think about the abundant winter that one bundle of Gula can bring, it's not that expensive."

And most importantly, the 'period.'

If he didn't set a one-month period, there would surely be people who would cultivate it and bring it in. Unfortunately, that's something that absolutely cannot happen. What Ian wants is Gula itself, but also for all the sprouts in the vicinity to wither.

"How is the farming situation in Marélof this year?"

"It doesn't seem very good. It's not a place known for farming, and the river was polluted by the battle between the central army and Bratz. They seem to predict a poor harvest."

"Do you know how Marélof handles a poor harvest?"

"When winter comes, large merchant guilds from the Havan Kingdom enter Varyel. Economic activities become very active at that time."

"…Large merchant guilds."

"Guilds that have everything except what doesn't exist. The really big ones carry enough dried meat for several years. The Marélof villagers buy food from them in exchange for providing lodging and convenience."

"So even with a poor harvest, there's no major unrest."

"Actually, finding a year without a poor harvest in Marélof might be easier."

Romandoro's subordinate gave an excellent answer to Ian's continuous questions. It seemed he had thoroughly gathered information before being dispatched.

Anyway, it's uncertain how the harvest will turn out this fall. If they can secure as much Gula as possible...

Do you know?

The Marélof side might propose a trade in the opposite direction. While Ian was mentally organizing his plans for the winter, Romandoro was only rubbing his temples, groaning.

'Gula? Gulaaaa?'

He wanted to return to the estate immediately to verify if Ian's claim was true. If it wasn't, he would give a piece of his mind to Ian, regardless of his status as a mana user. He also planned to visit the Marélof Count as soon as it was light.

"Hey. Can't you go a bit faster?"

"Do you have something urgent?"

"Ah, you talk too much!"

"I understand. It will be quite bumpy. Let's go!"

Squeak! Neigh!

Ian, seemingly unaware of Romandoro's concerns, only firmly pushed away Berick's hand reaching for the dried meat in the box.

"Ah, this is too much, sir. Master."

"Get sober and talk. Your tone sounds like a street thug."

"My mouth is bitter. Just one? Come on, just one."

In the end, when they arrived at the mansion, only an empty box was left. As soon as Romandoro got out of the carriage, all the servants, including the kitchen staff, were in an uproar.

"What did you say? You want us to make a meal with this?"

"This is Gula. You're really pulling our leg today."

"No, it's true. Lord Ian said to make a dish with Gula. All famine-relief crop cooking methods are applicable, but he also said to check if there's any fleshy part on the seed coat."

The kitchen staff all crossed their arms and stared at the Gula box. No matter how they thought about it, this was a waste of ingredients, a waste of fire, and a waste of manpower. Who in the world would make a dish with weeds from the roadside?

The head chef had no choice but to go up to Ian's room to confirm the order.

"Lord Ian. About tonight's dinner."

"Ah, yes. I heard about it. By the way, I like to boil Gula and cook it thoroughly before using it in various dishes. It's good cold, but even better warm, as it goes down like art."

"..."

He wasn't joking. It was real.

The head chef took off his cap in disbelief and bowed slightly. The kitchen servants gathered around and grilled the head chef.

"What? Really make a dish with Gula?"

"Yes. Everyone needs to start the fire."

"I don't get it, really. Ah! I get it! You must be trying to feed the gathered knights and their party."

"That's silly. Have you ever seen anyone die from eating Gula?"

"Of course not! Who would eat such a thing?"

"No, if your body is weak, it might cause the wrong toxins and kill you. Remember, the old shoeshiner died after eating Gula and falling ill."

Swoosh!

Had the kitchen ever been this noisy? The head chef couldn't even think about calming the commotion as he started flipping the pan. He felt like all the sauces and spices being poured over this were being wasted in the sewers. For the first time in his life, he felt guilty while cooking.

A few hours later.

Romandoro, with a tense expression, draped a napkin around his neck. The dining room door opened, and servants lined up, pulling trolleys inside. The familiar yet strange smell of food filled the air, one thing was certain: it stimulated the salivary glands.

"Is all of this made from Gula?"

"Head chef, please introduce the dishes."

"…To be precise, it's Gula seeds. This is a dessert made by roasting Gula seeds and soaking them in honey. And this is a stew. The seeds swell when cooked, so I can't give you a name for it."

Ian also didn't know the detailed cooking methods. As an emperor, he had always been on the receiving end and had never entered the kitchen.

But one spoonful at a time. These lifelong cooks, even when cooking by feel, produced visually and olfactorily excellent results.

Clatter.

"Um."

Ian tasted the food without hesitation. He savored Gula, eating a bit of this and a bit of that. Romandoro, frowning, poked at the Gula.

"…Is the doctor waiting outside?"

"No, it's late, so he's probably at home."

"Tell him to wait outside!"

"Haha. Just kidding. Don't worry and try it."

As Ian laughed heartily, Romandoro sighed deeply and closed his eyes. Then, he quickly swallowed the Gula.

"Ah!"

Romandoro, without realizing it, made a strange sound. Ian couldn't help but laugh as he saw Romandoro's eyes gradually open. Instead of words, his spoon dipped into the stew again.

"Does it suit your taste?"

"This, this…."

Why is it so delicious? Romandoro seemed to be completely captivated by the exquisite flavor he had never tasted before. Ian watched the servants with a faint smile. He had suggested it partly because they seemed hungry, but also because they were the ones who would connect Ian and the estate's residents.

They were the key to spreading Gula. One person to two, two to four. As with all great achievements, the beginning is always small.

"Wow, this is really impressive. How did you find it?"

Romandoro, finally regaining his composure, wiped his mouth. The bowls in front of him were all empty.

"It was by chance."

"Didn't Derga even give you food?"

"No, that's not it. Anyway, we can rely on Gula this winter. Let's start building a greenhouse in the garden from tomorrow. It can grow in dry sand or water, but it's weak against the cold."

While building the greenhouse, they should mobilize the residents of Marélof and Bratz to collect all the Gula in the area. With a clear demand, they needed to control the supply in this region to lead the market advantageously.

"What about when it snows? Oh, right. Now that I think about it, it's indeed hard to find in winter."

Romandoro, forgetting his dignity, licked his spoon clean and muttered. Then, he casually asked Ian.

"After a few days, if there are no adverse effects, I should include this in the report I send to the royal palace. Is that okay?"

"Of course. You must inform them. Be sure to include the discovery details."

Ian meant to have his name included. After all, it would be unbelievable for Romandoro, who had only recently been dispatched to the border, to have independently discovered the edibility of Gula. Romandoro waved his hand as if to say not to worry.

"I will only write the truth in the report, even if a knife is at my throat. By the way, can I have more?"

"No. There's not enough yet. Remember, one seed can produce more than ten Gula."

As Ian smiled and refused, Romandoro put down his spoon, smacking his lips. If he had known this, he would have stopped the servants from taking the Gula.

"And everyone, keep your mouths shut until we have enough Gula seeds."

At Ian's command, Hana and the other servants solemnly pretended to seal their lips.