The Reincarnated Lizardman Wants a Hamburger

At Tyrbing’s shout, Kurt’s party couldn’t lift their heads out of shame.

Why is the shame ours when it was Kurt who made the mistake?

The party thought, but no one answered.

“Hahaha. Don’t worry. Just because I got a little injured doesn’t mean the cooking will fail.”

Because Kurt, the one who should have answered, didn’t care at all.

At Kurt’s carefree response, the party couldn’t lift their heads even more.

“…Ah. I see. So that’s how it is. That’s how it turned out.”

But fortunately, Tyrbing, despite his outward rogue image, was sharp and wise.

Though it was just one sentence, from that one sentence that failed to read Kurt’s mood, he could grasp how this entire situation had come about.

“You guys must have a hard time keeping up with such a willful master.”

“He’s not usually like this. It’s only when it comes to cooking… But the food is delicious.”

“Sigh… I think I understand what’s going on now. Let’s just eat.”

Having resolved the minor misunderstanding, Tyrbing decided not to argue further and simply started eating, looking at the dish Kurt had brought.

‘A Lizardman master who is fanatically obsessed with cooking… It’s a strange hobby for a Lizardman, but people who reach the level of master are usually far from ordinary.’

The only saving grace was that Mari had said Kurt’s cooking was delicious.

As the de facto leader of the Resistance, without a discriminatory view, objectively speaking, the Lizardman’s cooking was roughly… (omitted) dripping with blood.

Even considering that as part of the same party, they might have overrated it by a step or two, it at least meant it wasn’t inedible.

And if it had been truly inedible, the maids, or rather the elf Resistance members who also worked as maids, would have cut it off before it reached the restaurant.

In fact, the dish Kurt brought wasn’t dripping with blood… (omitted) but was a proper, even quite excellent, high-class dish.

“Is this… a Terrine?”

“Correct. By the way, there’s also an elf-style vegetarian Terrine prepared, so no need to worry.”

At the sight of the dish, Tyrbing’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, and Kurt smiled as he answered.

Terrine.

By Kurt’s past life standards, it’s a traditional French dish where meat is minced, shaped in a mold, cooked, or set in a gelatinous form, then chilled before eating.

Similarly derived dishes include Pate and Galantine; Pate is Terrine wrapped in bread, and Galantine is Terrine wrapped in the skin of meat or fish.

It’s quite a unique cooking method, unfamiliar if you’re not accustomed to French cuisine, but in fact, Korean cuisine has a similar dish.

It’s Pyeonyuk, made from pig’s head meat, where the naturally seeping gelatin from boiling the head meat is used to set it into a jelly-like form, making it very similar to Terrine.

The Terrine Kurt made also used gelatin to set it into a jelly-like form, similar to Pyeonyuk.

Inside the translucent, rectangular Terrine, layers of red carrots, green asparagus, yellow corn, and white chicken meat formed a beautiful gradient, all encased in a translucent gelatin wall that sparkled under the restaurant’s lights.

It was more like a work of art made from ingredients.

“Certainly, a Terrine of this level would leave even the most demanding nobles in the empire without complaint. It’s almost a shame to eat it.”

“But if no one eats it, it’s not a dish.”

“Huh. Well said. I agree.”

As Kurt said, Tyrbing had no intention of just admiring the dish with his eyes.

Swipe, swipe.

Having sufficiently admired the Terrine’s splendid appearance, Tyrbing didn’t hesitate to use a knife to cut it into bite-sized pieces.

The Terrine, appropriately chilled, sliced cleanly without the sticky feel of gelatin that hadn’t set properly, smoothly under the knife.

‘Not just the gelatin, but the chicken and vegetables inside also cut without resistance. Proof that the vegetables are cooked just right.’

There was no aversion to eating a Lizardman’s cooking.

Partly because Mari, a member of Kurt’s party, vouched for its taste, but the beautiful appearance of the Terrine was enough to blow away any prejudice about the cook being a Lizardman.

Hap.

A smile naturally blooms.

Not the mask of a mocking laugh worn while acting as a dissolute rogue, but a natural smile rising from within.

As felt during the slicing, the chilling of the gelatin was perfect.

Not just hastily set on the outside for shape, but uniformly set throughout, the slightly cool temperature of the Terrine presented the familiar combination of vegetables and chicken as if encountering a new dish, showing a fresh side.

With the Terrine’s completion level so high, the ingredients inside were, of course, excellent.

The meat of the Three-legged Fowl, somehow prepared, remained tender and flaky even after being cooked and chilled, and the combination with asparagus, corn, and tomato wasn’t just visually beautiful but naturally blended into the world of Terrine.

And then, the jelly layer encasing all these ingredients.

This jelly layer wasn’t just packaging for the ingredients; with each bite, it crumbled and melted, transforming into a heavenly soup with supreme umami upon touching the tongue.

“How is this umami…”

“When melting the gelatin, instead of plain water, I used a clear broth made from vegetable stock mixed with bone broth from the Three-legged Fowl.”

“I see. At that level, it would have been an excellent soup even without being used in a Terrine. No, rather, this jelly layer itself is a soup solidified into jelly.”

“You have a deep understanding of gourmet.”

“Despite appearances, as a dissolute noble, I’ve tasted all sorts of delicacies.”

Kurt smiled, pleased that Tyrbing understood his cooking, and Tyrbing, satisfied with the excellent gourmet experience, continued the meal.

And eventually, as Kurt said, it came to pass.

The atmosphere between the Resistance and Kurt’s party wasn’t as uncomfortable as before the meal.

A delicious meal gives a sense of calmness regardless of race, and calmness tends to ease excessive vigilance and hostility towards others.

And there were also minor misunderstandings resolved during the meal through conversation.

“Ha! So, you’re saying the Holy Kingdom didn’t properly support us because there were imperial agents between the Holy Kingdom and the Resistance?”

“Precisely, it’s not that they didn’t support us, but the support disappeared midway. By Bishop Gelio Gelatin.”

“It’s hard to believe hastily.”

“By the way, Aila and I were also unjustly handed over to the Inquisition because of that bishop influenced by the empire.”

“Ah. That’s true. We were the ones who saved the two of you from being branded as heretics by the Inquisition.”

“Hmm… If even Mari testifies like that, I have no choice but to believe.”

During the meal, Daria questioned Tyrbing to understand the root of his distrust and hostility towards the Holy Kingdom, and in the process, learned why Tyrbing didn’t trust the Holy Kingdom.

The cause was that some within the Holy Kingdom, influenced by imperial ideology, deliberately sabotaged support for the Resistance.

That some were none other than Gelio Gelatin, who once handed Daria and Aila over to the Inquisition.

Externally known as a bishop of the Holy Kingdom and a man of character, but in reality, a traitor who sympathized with imperial ideology and acted as an imperial spy within the Holy Kingdom.

He externally took charge of supporting between the Holy Kingdom and the Resistance, but in reality, he diverted support, providing only minimal resources and information to the Resistance.

So, it was natural for Tyrbing, the de facto leader of the Resistance, to view the Holy Kingdom as abandoning them.

The elf Resistance members, quietly eating, also cleared up misunderstandings by listening to Tyrbing and Daria’s conversation.

Of course, the ill feelings built up over decades couldn’t be wiped away by a few words of conversation, but with the disappearance of Gelio, who had been sabotaging between the Holy Kingdom and the Resistance, the restoration of relations between the two organizations was only a matter of time.

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