Chapter 3: Fried Eggs and Gold Coins

Rex was awakened by a strange smell.

It wasn’t the aroma of baking bread that drifted through the Imperial Capital in the mornings, nor was it the smoky scent of pinewood burning in the ancient castle’s fireplace.

This smell…

How to describe it?

It was as if someone had thrown a piece of iron into a fire until it glowed red-hot, then poured a bucket of slop over it.

The unpleasant odor was wafting up from downstairs.

He stared at the ceiling in silence for a moment before slowly sitting up, grabbing the coat by his bedside, and putting it on.

Mornings in the Northern Frontier were much colder than in the Imperial Capital, but today’s sunlight, filtering through a gap in the curtains, painted a golden line on the floor.

It didn’t look too bad.

He pushed open his bedroom door and walked down the stairs.

The smell grew stronger.

Then he saw thick, billowing black smoke pouring from the direction of the kitchen, as if a dragon had sneezed inside.

“Xildel?”

Rex quickened his pace and entered the kitchen.

He saw Xildel standing in front of the stove.

Her expression was focused, so focused that she didn’t even turn around when Rex entered.

She was holding a plate.

On the plate was a pile of…

Charred, irregularly shaped objects that could barely be recognized as having once been food.

“What is this?”

Xildel turned around and looked at him expressionlessly.

“Fried eggs and bacon.”

Rex glanced at the pot, which was still emitting black smoke.

The bottom of the pot had a layer of black crust that seemed to have fused with the pot itself.

He then looked at Xildel’s face.

A small smudge of black soot was on her left cheek, which she seemed completely unaware of.

“You can’t use your own flame temperature to fry eggs,” Rex said.

“…Oh.”

Xildel frowned slightly, looking at the plate in her hand and then at the pot, as if seriously contemplating the physics of the statement.

Rex sighed and stepped forward, taking the plate from her hands.

“My Lord?”

Xildel seemed surprised.

“This is inedible.”

“Who said it’s inedible?”

Rex carried the plate to the dining table, sat down, and directly cut a piece of the charred fried egg, putting it into his mouth.

It was crispy.

When he bit down, he heard a crunch, like biting into a piece of burnt wood.

The yolk inside had completely solidified, taking on a suspicious grayish-brown color.

As for the taste…

The original flavor of the egg was gone, leaving only a charred bitterness and a faint hint of sulfur.

Rex chewed a few times without changing his expression and swallowed it.

Xildel stood beside him, watching, a rare hint of confusion appearing in her eyes.

“My Lord, this truly is inedible.”

“It’s edible,” Rex said, spearing a piece of bacon with his fork.

“It’s just a little burnt.”

The bacon was even worse off than the egg.

It had completely carbonized, crumbling into black powder at the touch of the fork.

Rex, quick as lightning, caught it with a piece of bread and stuffed it into his mouth with a loud, crisp crunch.

He picked up the water glass on the table, took a sip, and then elegantly took a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“I’ll teach you how to cook at noon.”

Xildel blinked.

“You’re going to teach me?”

“Otherwise?”

Rex stood up and walked over to her, reaching out to wipe the smudge of soot from her cheek.

“We can’t eat charcoal every day, can we?”

Xildel didn’t move, allowing his fingers to touch her face.

“Now,” Rex withdrew his hand and walked toward the door, casually picking up his coat hanging on the rack.

“How about accompanying me for a walk outside?”

“Now?”

“Yes. The weather is nice today.”

Rex pushed open the ancient castle’s main door.

The Northern Frontier sunlight fell on him, surprisingly carrying a bit of warmth.

This was considered exceptionally good weather for the Northern Frontier.

Xildel followed behind him, and the two walked along the small path in front of the castle.

Without a carriage, they could only walk.

The path was uneven.

To be precise, it couldn’t really be called a path.

Gravel and weeds were mixed together, making each step unpredictable.

Some spots still had puddles from the rain a few days ago.

Rex noticed the wild grass by the roadside was very tall, clearly indicating no one had walked here for a long time.

“This path was probably paved before,” Rex squatted down to examine the road surface.

“There’s crushed stone laid underneath. It’s just been too long since anyone maintained it.”

Xildel nodded silently, just walking quietly beside him.

The scenery along the way grew increasingly desolate.

Long-abandoned fields by the roadside were overgrown with waist-high wild grass.

Occasionally, they could see a few collapsed wooden huts, their roofs half-caved in, revealing dark, empty interiors.

“People must have lived here before,” Rex stood before a ruined farmhouse.

“At least a dozen households.”

Xildel looked around.

“Not anymore.”

‘The Northern Frontier is even more desolate than I anticipated…’

Rex thought to himself.

Back in the Imperial Capital, he’d heard many people call the Northern Frontier a “godforsaken place where not even birds shit.”

He’d thought it was an exaggeration, but now it seemed…

In a way, it was an accurate description.

But the questions in Rex’s mind deepened.

“My Lord, there’s a house ahead. It seems someone is there.”

Xildel’s words interrupted his train of thought.

It was a wooden hut, not very large, looking quite old.

Smoke was rising from its chimney.

A few planks on the roof appeared newly patched, and a pile of chopped firewood was stacked by the door.

Rex quickened his pace, stopping at the hut’s door and knocking.

The door was pushed open from the inside, revealing a weathered face.

It was an old man, looking to be in his sixties, perhaps older.

The wrinkles on his face were deep, as if carved by a knife.

His skin was darkened and roughened by the Northern Frontier winds.

He wore a leather jacket with several patches, a hunting knife hung at his waist, and his hands were stained with blood, as if he’d just finished processing a kill.

The old man was momentarily stunned upon seeing the two people outside his door.

He saw two individuals dressed respectably, in clothes not affordable to refugees.

The young man was handsome, standing there unhurriedly, his expression natural, like a neighbor dropping by for a visit. And the woman behind him…

The old man had lived a long life and had never seen anyone so beautiful.

Her face was like a goddess stepping out of a painting.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Rex gave a slight bow.

“I am Rex von Klein, the newly appointed lord of the Northern Frontier.”

The old man’s reaction wasn’t one of pleasant surprise or reverence, but…

Wariness.

He looked Rex up and down.

“You were thrown here, weren’t you?”

He asked bluntly.

“You definitely won’t stay here long before leaving.”

Rex didn’t say anything.

He just glanced inside the hut.

Water was boiling over the hearth, several animal pelts were drying on the wall, and bundles of cured meat strips were piled in a corner.

The old hunter’s life was frugal, but he was getting by.

“What do you lack?”

Rex asked.

The old hunter was taken aback.

“Why are you asking?”

“I’ve settled in the ancient castle not far from here, and I didn’t bring much food with me,” Rex said in a calm tone.

“I can’t very well starve, can I? So, I’d like to buy some food from you and, in passing, hear about the situation in this area.”

The old hunter stared at him for a long while.

But the proposal of a transaction loosened his wariness somewhat.

After all, in this godforsaken Northern Frontier, there weren’t many business opportunities.

Every deal that could be made was real income.

“Wait here,” the old hunter turned and went inside, emerging with a smallish Giant-Horned Deer slung over his back.

The deer’s neck had a clean cut; the blood had been drained.

“Just finished cleaning it,” the old man placed the deer on the ground.

“You name the price.”

Rex nodded and reached into his coat.

His hand found nothing.

He paused, then remembered one thing…

He had brought his magic crystal card.

The card held over three thousand gold coins, enough for a year of lavish spending in the Imperial Capital.

But this godforsaken place…

the Northern Frontier, this impoverished, barren Northern Frontier, without even a decent road…

How could anyone possibly use a magic crystal card here?

More critically, he hadn’t brought any coins in his pockets.

When he left, he hadn’t even considered this problem…

Having lived in the Imperial Capital for so long, he swiped his card everywhere.

Who remembered to carry cash?

Rex’s hand remained inside his coat, contemplating how to explain the situation next, when he saw Xildel silently step forward.

She pulled a gold coin from a pouch at her waist and offered it to the old hunter.

The old man’s eyes widened instantly.

A heavy gold coin.

In a place like the Northern Frontier, copper coins were sufficient for buying and selling things.

Occasionally using a silver coin was considered a big transaction.

He had thought this noble young man would be generous if he pulled out a few coppers.

He never expected it to be a gold coin outright.

“T-this…”

The old man took it, hefted it in his hand, then bit it with his teeth.

His eyes grew even brighter.

“Milord, this is too much! This deer isn’t worth this price!”

“It’s fine,” Rex smiled.

“May we come in and sit for a while?”

“Of course! Of course! Please come in, Milord!”

The old man’s attitude changed instantly.

He hurriedly pushed the door open wider, flusteredly wiped the stools inside, and invited Rex to sit.

Then he crouched on the floor, pried up a loose floorboard, and pulled out a bottle of liquor from underneath.

“Milord, this is something good I’ve been hiding for over a decade! Please, have a taste!”

Rex picked up the bowl and took a sip.

The first sensation was strong, very strong.

It was like swallowing a mouthful of fire, burning all the way from his throat to his stomach.

But the aftertaste held a sweet-and-sour note of wild berries.

It wasn’t unpleasant.

“Not bad,” Rex set the bowl down.

“Can you tell me about the situation around here?”

The old hunter began to speak slowly.

The desolation of the Northern Frontier wasn’t without reason.

First, the land was poor.

There was a lot of permafrost, and land suitable for crops was pitifully scarce.

If three out of ten planted seeds sprouted, it was considered a blessing from the heavens.

Second, it was too far from the Empire’s center.

Supplies couldn’t be transported here easily, yet taxes were collected without fail.

Those who could leave had left.

Those who remained were either the elderly who couldn’t leave, or hunters and lumberjacks who relied on the mountains for their livelihood.

“And there’s another reason,” the old man lowered his voice.

“This place is too close to the neighboring country’s border.”

“Close?”

“Just over that mountain ahead,” the old man pointed out the window.

“A day’s walk, or just a few hours on horseback. This place… it’s said to be Empire territory, but the Empire doesn’t govern it. It’s said to be the neighboring country’s territory, but they don’t want to govern it either. Neither side wants this rotten place, so it’s become a no-man’s-land.”

Rex understood.

Such places weren’t uncommon along vast borderlines.

These vacuum zones at the junction of two countries were places no one wanted to expend effort governing, nor could they effectively govern them.

People living here could only fend for themselves, relying on the mountains and rivers.

“Sometimes I carry the game I hunt to sell on the other side, in the neighboring country,” the old man said.

“There’s a small town over there. It’s not big either, but at least there are people to buy things, and bartering is possible. A good pelt can be exchanged for a sack of flour or a few blocks of salt.”

“Is the neighboring country’s side strictly controlled?”

“Not very strict. There’s hardly anyone patrolling this stretch of the border. As long as you don’t cause trouble, almost no one bothers you,” the old man took a sip of liquor.

“Milord, that’s about all I know. This place is poor. There aren’t any major events, and of course, not many good things either.”

Rex nodded.

Xildel had been quietly listening the whole time, not speaking at all, just watching Rex and the old man converse.

Her expression hadn’t changed, but Rex noticed she had been observing.

Observing the old man’s expression, tone, and subtle movements as he spoke.

‘She’s probably judging whether the old man is lying or hiding something right now. Dragon intuition is usually accurate. Since she hasn’t interrupted, it means the old man is telling the truth.’

Rex gave Xildel a meaningful glance.

Xildel understood.

She pulled another gold coin from her waist pouch and placed it on the table.

“This is for thanking you for the information,” Rex stood up.

“I’ll take the deer. I may trouble you again in the future.”

“No trouble at all! No trouble at all!”

The old man hurriedly stood up, the wrinkles on his face creasing into a smile.

“Milord, come anytime! Anytime!”

Rex shouldered the Giant-Horned Deer, and he and Xildel left the hut.

On the way back, Xildel walked beside him and suddenly spoke.

“That old man was telling the truth.”

“I know.”

“Aren’t you suspicious of him, my Lord?”

“No need,” Rex adjusted the deer on his shoulder.

“He told me all he could. Anything more, he himself doesn’t know.”

Xildel nodded and fell silent again.

Rex walked slowly.

Not because he was tired, but because he was observing this land.

It was truly desolate, but it wasn’t completely without value.

What was the soil quality beneath the abandoned farmland?

Could those collapsed wooden huts be rebuilt?

What could the small town in the neighboring country provide?

Was there any way to fix this ruined road?

These questions revolved in his mind, with no answers for now.

No rush.

There was plenty of time.

Back at the ancient castle, Rex placed the Giant-Horned Deer on the kitchen floor.

He drew a short knife from the side of his calf and began expertly processing the venison.

Skinning and deboning were done in one fluid motion.

The blade moved between the bones as if it had eyes, each cut precise.

The deerskin came off completely without a single tear.

Xildel crouched nearby, chin resting on her hands, watching him intently, as if anticipating the delicious meal to come.

She watched very seriously.

From Rex’s grip on the knife, to the angle of his wrist rotation, to a bead of sweat on his forehead that was about to fall but hadn’t yet.

She didn’t blink, as if trying to etch this scene into her memory.

Rex set aside the best cuts of tenderloin.

He tenderized them with the back of the knife, sprinkled them with salt and ground herbs.

He personally controlled the stove fire, using charcoal brought over from the fireplace.

“Watch closely,” he said while pan-frying the meat.

“The flame can’t be too high, or the outside will burn while the inside remains raw. It can’t be too low either, or the meat will become tough. You need to let it heat evenly, slowly locking the juices inside.”

Rex flipped the meat, drizzled on a bit of red wine.

The moment the wine hit the hot pan, it evaporated with a rich aroma carrying fruity notes and the aged scent of oak barrels.

Finally, he sprinkled on some black pepper.

Plated.

The cross-section of the steak was a beautiful pink, juicy, with a slightly crispy surface.

Rex brought the plate to the table, pairing it with a few pieces of toasted bread and a small dish of blueberry jam.

“Try it,” Rex sat down opposite her.

Xildel stared at the steak on the plate, picked up her knife and fork, cut a piece, and put it in her mouth.

Her eyes widened slightly.

On Xildel’s face, this counted as a “very surprised” expression.

“Is it good?”

“Mhm.”

Rex was just about to cut his own portion when he felt the chair opposite him move.

He saw Xildel pick up her plate, stand up, walk around the table, and then deftly sit down on his lap again.

Xildel looked at him expressionlessly, her tone matter-of-fact.

“I want you to feed me.”

She added, “As a reward for making me take out the gold coins.”

Rex was momentarily stunned.

He recalled that back in Dragon Valley, although Xildel would stay close and follow him, she never…

Acted so directly as she did now.

Back then, she was more aloof, distant.

Occasionally, a hint of warmth would show, but it was always hidden behind her silence.

Until the day he left Dragon Valley, Xildel stood at the valley entrance, watching him.

“I will go there and wait for you,” she had said.

“Mhm.”

“I promise I won’t make you wait too long.”

“Okay.”

Now, Xildel was wearing a maid’s uniform, sitting quietly on his lap, acting so naturally, as if the years they’d spent apart had never happened.

And now she said…

“This is your reward for making me take out the gold coins.”

Rex chuckled helplessly.

He switched the direction of his knife and fork, cut a piece of meat, and brought it to her lips.

Xildel opened her mouth, took it, chewed slowly, then closed her eyes and nodded in satisfaction.

“More.”

Rex cut another piece.

“More.”

He cut a piece, and she ate it.

After feeding her the final piece, she leaned her entire body against Rex.

“Full?”

“Mhm.”

The fire in the fireplace burned brightly.

The aroma of pan-fried meat still lingered in the kitchen.

Xildel leaned against him, her silver hair cascading down, gently rising and falling with her breath.

After Rex finished his bread and patted the crumbs from his hands, he looked down at her.

Xildel didn’t move.

“Xildel?”

“…I don’t want to move.”

Rex laughed.

“So, should I just hold you here to rest tonight?”

Xildel thought for a moment, as if the proposal wasn’t entirely unacceptable.

But in the end, she reluctantly stood up and stood to the side, watching Rex clear the dishes.

After dinner was cleaned up, Rex returned to his room.

The full map of the Northern Frontier he had brought was spread out on