Chapter 144 Cooking to Calm Down
Shirou stood up first, holding back Mor-chan, who was angrily trying to rise, and addressed King Pellinore above: "To show respect to the lord of this land, it's proper that we explain our intentions first. I would like to thank King Pellinore for your assistance."
"Hmm, compared to that brat, you understand things much better," King Pellinore said, nodding appreciatively.
"First, allow me to introduce myself. I am a resident of the outside world connected to this land. You may call me Shirou. Mordred and I came here to address the abnormality affecting this world. The overflow of magical energy from this world has already begun to affect my own."
Shirou explained his situation, omitting the existence of Chaldea.
After learning about the outside world, King Pellinore laughed maliciously: "Hahaha, so you're heroes trying to save the world! Truly admirable courage! But it's unfortunate you've encountered a monster like that dragon, impossible to defeat… though for us, it's good news. Hey, Lamorak! Did you hear that? Maybe in time, we'll get a glimpse of the outside world."
"Hey! Lamorak! What's going on? That dragon—where did it come from? Don't tell me it's Vortigern. I've never seen Vortigern, but I've heard he wasn't that exaggerated!" Mordred frowned and asked.
"That dragon is indeed not the Vortigern I know. It's a corrupted monster, possibly the embodiment of this world. It kills living beings, turning their blood, flesh, pain, and hatred into soil, expanding the land. Since our summoning to this world, its territory has already more than doubled, and countless creatures have died," Lamorak explained.
King Pellinore, sitting above, spoke. Like Vortigern, he had been a regional warlord under Uther's rule over all of Britain, giving him authority to comment.
"You're saying the land expands itself using the remains of battles?" Shirou asked, astonished.
Lamorak replied: "It's hard to believe, but it's true. This world is an endless purgatory. Slaughter never stops, yet not fighting is impossible. Without sufficient sacrifices, the dragon goes berserk, destroying everything with its breath. At that point, all we can do is hide and pray not to be found. If discovered, death is instantaneous."
"Have all these powerful beings not considered working together to defeat the dragon?" Shirou asked, frowning.
Lamorak shook his head: "It can't be done. Even if injured, the dragon recovers instantly. It is the embodiment of this land. For us to survive here, defeating it is impossible. The only way is to kill outsiders and monsters to feed the dragon, allowing the residents to survive. This world
is cursed by the dragon; if killed, one becomes a puppet of the Black Mud. If you don't want the fate of the boar king, then escape."
"The embodiment of the land… its strength isn't just Black Mud or the Holy Grail; its natural attributes are this dangerous too," Shirou remarked.
"Yes. I advise you to leave. The dragon Vortigern is invincible here. At least it won't leave this land; it has no intelligence, acting only on instinct."
"No, even the strongest opponents have weaknesses, right? Maybe destroying the Grail inside it or weakening its power… there has to be a way," Shirou said, unwilling to give up.
Lamorak said: "Give up. That's the corrupted Vortigern. It now has Black Mud and the Holy Grail, making it even more terrifying than before. Vortigern is linked to this land; it cannot leave, but within this territory, it is invincible."
"Unable to leave this land… is that why it wants to constantly expand territory?" Shirou asked.
According to Li Shuwen, the Black Mud Servant came to this world to kill it. Although the purpose and process differ, the outcome is the same—it must confront it. Vortigern, instinctively expanding its territory, will eventually reach the English kingdom. Then it will naturally kill him. That is why Black Mud chose and summoned this dragon here.
Currently, the world's dimensional protection slows its spread; the effect over one mountain takes months. To cover all of England would take centuries. If the world's protection collapses, merging the two worlds, the results would be catastrophic.
Shirou realized the opponent could no longer simply be called a Black Mud Servant, nor described as Servant Vortigern.
Lamorak continued: "The Vortigern I knew led barbarians to invade Britain. After drinking dragon blood, he became the embodiment of the island, a dragon that devours the light of the holy sword. The brighter the sword's light, the denser his darkness, absorbing the land's hatred and growing stronger. Back then, even Gawain's holy sword's solar brilliance was completely absorbed.
Only with the king at his peak, wielding the faintly glowing Excalibur, could they fight him for hours. Once Gawain recovered, they pinned Vortigern with the holy sword and finally killed him with the holy spear."
"If even the father found him difficult, we should slay him! I want to hunt dragons too!" Mordred exclaimed, fired up by her competitive spirit with Arthur.
"No! He's beyond our strength. It's far too dangerous. There's no need to risk everything for this world," Lamorak advised.
At that moment, middle-aged King Pellinore approached, smiling: "You two are talking interesting things. Here's some intel: at midnight, the Black Mud in the land resets, turning into nutrients. That's when the dragon is weakest. Its hundred-meter body shrinks to around
ten meters. It burrows underground, waiting for the next day's slaughter, absorbing hatred and resentment."
"Father, are you tricking them into scouting? That's not proper for knights," Lamorak said.
Pellinore laughed: "Hmm, my naive son Lamorak. I don't intend to hide anything. Those giant knights in colorful armor you saw fighting earlier? They go at midnight to attack Vortigern once it collapses."
"What? You don't dare go yourself? I'd love to see you weaken the dragon," Pellinore stroked his beard, smiling.
"Hmph! Aren't you coming? Vortigern is Arthur's mortal enemy; the Round Table should slay it," Mordred asked the tall knight nearby.
Lamorak shook his head: "No. Having betrayed the Round Table, I have no standing to hunt the dragon. But I don't want you to die. Shirou, Mordred, I advise you again: leave. If you die on this land, even Servants won't just disappear. Humans will be absorbed by the Black Mud, turned into battlefield puppets, trapped in endless purgatory. Daily, meaningless slaughter repeats—worse than death."
"You fool. If it's the king's order, carry it out. If it's an enemy, slay it. Isn't that enough?" Mordred scolded.
"Perhaps only Mordred can think that way," Lamorak sighed.
"Shirou, you're the Master. Fight or don't fight—what's your decision?" Mordred asked him directly.
"Since we're here, we should at least try! If it fails, we'll retreat. It can't leave the outside world, right?" Shirou replied.
"Ah! That's my Master!" Mordred smiled, bumping her fist against Shirou's chest.
Pellinore chuckled mockingly, half-taunting, half-encouraging: "Such brave warriors. I'll provide each of you with two horses and equipment."
"Who wants your cowardly stuff!" Mordred snapped.
Shirou stopped her, stepping forward: "King Pellinore, thank you. Please take me to your food storage."
"Food storage? Of course. That's an unusual request. I thought you'd want our armory's weapons," Pellinore said.
"Are you hungry, Shirou?" Mordred asked.
"There's still plenty of time before battle. I want to calm down, organize my thoughts, and plan. Also, a good meal before a great battle is nice. Mor-chan, do you want some? It'll taste good," Shirou asked.
"I want some! I know how to enjoy myself, Father. Good food must be eaten!" Mordred happily agreed.
Pellinore led them to a warehouse, opening the door: "Behold! This is our food storage. Every day a team hunts and gathers, and under my wise instruction, it's the richest place in this world. Don't be shy—pick anything. Simply admire King Pellinore's generosity; that is the highest praise."
"Noisy… this small warehouse isn't enough for one day's meal for us Round Table knights," Mordred said, glaring at the annoying man.
"That ungrateful brat…" Pellinore gritted his teeth, standing at the door without entering.
Mordred, curious, asked Shirou: "Shirou, what are we eating tonight?"
"Well, there's plenty of meat," Shirou observed.
Though small, the warehouse had ample meat—wolves, bears, cows, horses, wild boars—mostly hunted by soldiers. The horses were injured or retired. Wooden boxes held fruits and wild crops.
Shirou picked potatoes, carrots, onions, garlic, ginger, a cabbage-like vegetable, and some coriander. No spices or even green onions were available—resources were scarce, and the locals lacked the skill to identify ingredients properly.
He projected a basket, putting in the ingredients, then surveyed the hanging meat. He chose a deer, already shot but not yet slaughtered.
Shirou projected a cloth, stunned and wrapped the deer, slinging it over his shoulder, and told Pellinore: "We'll take this. Leave a horse for transport. After dinner, we'll leave ourselves."
"One deer… can that brat eat it?" Pellinore asked.
"Hmph! Shirou cooks, I'll eat it all. I won't share with you cowards!" Mordred warned Pellinore, like a protective kitten.
"Foolish talk. I'm the richest here. I've eaten all sorts of wild game. I don't care about what you kids cook," Pellinore replied.
"King Pellinore, may I cook outside on an open space?" Shirou asked.
"Of course, as long as you don't hinder work, anywhere is fine," Pellinore waved casually.
"Thank you, King Pellinore, for your generosity," Shirou smiled, carrying the deer to a stream outside the camp.
He projected several large barrels, drawing enough water from the stream. Then he hung the deer, cut its arteries, and drained all the blood into a basin.
"Shirou, why make it so complicated? Wouldn't pre-slaughtered beef be easier?" Mordred asked.
"Venison tastes best if the blood is drained immediately after killing, removing gaminess. Then it's easier to cook well," Shirou explained.
"I see… when marching, we were always short on food. We roasted all non-poisonous monsters entirely with some salt and ate everything," Mordred said, somewhat unfamiliar with the process.
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