During dinner.
The ogre was quite fond of the titmouse the size of a quail and believed it could eat at least 10 of them. It had even thought about how to cook them: three for soup, three for charcoal grilling, three for deep frying, and it would marinate the last one using a large amount of chili and salt.
"It would be even better if we had some clams." said the ogre, Morris.
Foraged ingredients were not enough to feed everyone, probably only enough to half-fill the ogre's stomach. However, before entering the forest, Old Will and his party had prepared food for about two weeks and stored it in a Space Ring, so they did not have to worry about spoilage.
Low Novel, as a seasoned team of adventurers, wouldn't forget these essential preparations, especially when there is an ogre in the team.
There were sausages made from venison and soaked in salt and spices; discs of goat cheese; cod and halibut, both fresh and smoked; big chunks of beef, marvelously marbled and cooked to perfection; roasted pork chops with black pepper and herbs; various types of bread and desserts, among which the lemon cookies were especially good; bags of potatoes, rutabagas, pickled olives, onions, etc...
Food inside the Space Ring can be preserved for a long time. Of course, most of it would eventually make its way into the ogre's stomach, which was as big as a hillock.
When Bartlett expressed surprise at the amount of food prepared by the Low Novel team, Old Will joked, "Want to keep the ogre from eating people? Easy, just keep it well-fed!"
"Morris never eats people!!" protested the ogre, his mouth full of sausage, "Morris is a good ogre! Master Baron said good ogres don't eat people! Morris wants to be a good ogre!"
"Baron, the high wizard, used to be Morris's master," explained Old Will.
Bartlett nodded without understanding, but didn't ask any further.
Everyone but the ogre ate sparingly at dinner. Old Will had half a piece of goat cheese. The Half-Elven and the dwarf each had a skewer of roasted mushrooms, along with desserts made of crushed walnuts, almonds, and coconut. Bartlett had a roasted frog, a few slices of bread, and a pork chop.
Everyone praised Bartlett's soup. Even the dwarf who rarely spoke up said it was "nice". This made our Norde Barbarian feel somewhat smug.
Bartlett knew that he was a great cook, particularly skilled at making soup and grilling. He got his culinary skills from his father and was forced to perfect them during his adventurous career.
After all, adventurers often have to cater for themselves during missions and adventurous journeys.
If I didn't become an adventurer, being a chef wouldn't be a bad choice, Bartlett thought to himself. The battlefield would be by the soup pot or grill barrier, his weapons would be the spatula and soup ladle, his enemies would be rutabaga, peas, and jerky. Onion would be a formidable foe, whose attack could make you cry. And spices would be his adventurous companions, indispensable for a perfect adventure (a well-cooked dish).
...
After dinner, everyone set the order for the night watch. The Half-Elven was in the first group, Bartlett in the second, and the dwarf last. Old Will and the ogre were excluded from the night watch.
Bartlett volunteered to be responsible for the middle of the night, as out of everyone, only he was familiar with the Foggy Forest. As it was everyone else's first time here, they handed over the hard part of the night to him.
If possible, the barbarian would even want to take the entire night alone, as he didn't trust the others too much. This concern was not due to his lack of confidence in their strengths, but there were too many eerie things happening in the Foggy Forest. There would be hardly any precautions for those who had never been there.
Thankfully, Old Will had set up a circle of magical traps and alarms around the campsite, which relieved a lot of Bartlett's anxiety.
As a regular person who couldn't use magic, Bartlett believed in the power of magic. He, like all other commoners on the continent, believed that most of the time, magic was more effective than manpower.
"It seems our first day of the journey went fairly well, didn't it." Old Will sitting outside the glow of the campfire, leaned against a fallen fir tree, his figure slightly blurred. The sparks in his pipe suddenly flared up in the darkness, casting a red hue over the face hidden in the shadows.
The rhythmic snoring of the Ogre has begun, the giant creature lying on the ground asleep in full armor. He didn't need to think about what kind of tasks to accept, or where to take the team next, or what to do. As long as he had a full belly, it appeared that Morris didn't have any worries.
With a tree branch, Bartlett stoked the bonfire, preventing it from burning too swiftly. Even though the forest was filled with trees, it was still somewhat challenging to find dry firewood that didn't produce smoke during this season. Fortunately, Bartlett and his team had already prepared plenty of firewood, enough to last a long time.
"There probably won't be any major issues in the next two days," he said, provided they weren't as unfortunate as Jack and his group.
"When do you estimate we might find our target? Those Frost Insects?" Old Will asked.
"If we're lucky, we should find them after two or three days of further exploring," Bartlett replied uncertainly. "Given the size of the Frost Insects, their movement would leave plenty of traces. As long as we find some, the rest should be easy."
Easy? No, Bartlett didn't really consider killing two giant bugs that were almost fourteen to fifteen meters long to be an easy task, let alone capturing them alive.
"I have to admit, my colleagues have really set a tricky task. What do they want two live Frost Insects for? Breeding?" Old Will said with resignation.
"What if they both turn out to be males or females?" The Half-Elven laughed, "The task didn't specify the bugs' gender. Do we even know how to differentiate the genders of these bugs? And wouldn't their mating turn this entire forest upside down?"
This was a typical Adventurer-style conversation, often accompanied by shared, insight-laden laughter among a group of men. But when the Half-Elven Estelle, with her long, delicate ears and refined features, said it, it felt strangely odd.
Every time Bartlett thought he understood Half-Elves, this long-eared fellow would say things that defied the Barbarian's expectations.
The Dwarf Merrill sat across from Bartlett, holding a peculiarly shaped beetle and scrutinizing it under the firelight. The beetle's body was a deep gray color. However, its head shone with a bright orange hue. It had no eyes or antennae.
This pitiful bug was stripped of its freedom, helplessly moving its eight legs in the air. Occasionally, the sounds of its chitinous plates rubbing against each other created a clear, light sound.
The Dwarf discovered it note thanks to this sound, amidst the remains of a fallen fir tree.
"What is it called?" The Dwarf suddenly asked, his voice deep and hoarse.
Bartlett looked up to meet the Dwarf's gaze, noticing a hint of undefinable melancholy.
The Foggy Forest was teeming with a wild mix of species. Although Bartlett had been adventuring here for over a decade, he reckoned he probably hadn't even seen one percent of the creatures in the forest, let alone understood them.
However, he did recognize the beetle, or it could be said that most of the adventurers in Pig Bay recognized it.
"Eyeless Nora," Bartlett answered, "a very common beetle in the Foggy Forest. It lives off the sap of fir trees. You can find them everywhere in the forest during the transition between spring and summer."
"Eyeless Nora? What a strange name for a beetle. Why is it called that?" The Half-Elven was somewhat curious.
"I'm not sure who came up with the name, but that's what the adventurers in Pig Bay call it. There's also a legend associated with it," Bartlett said.
"A legend? What kind?" the Half-Elven asked again.
"It's a legend about a girl named 'Nora'."
...