By the time Shirou returned to the hillside church, dinner time had already passed.
As he had anticipated, Berserker caused quite a commotion on his way to Trifas. That simple-minded guy had no idea what route planning meant and just followed Shakespeare's directions in a straight line. If there was a mountain, he climbed it; if there was a river, he crossed it. Roads? He followed them if they were there; if not, he made his own, causing a ruckus and leaving chaos in his wake.
Fortunately, there were no villages between Sighișoara and Trifas, just a straight line. They only needed to clean up the outskirts of Sighișoara to avoid drawing suspicion. Even so, it took Shirou a good six hours to complete the task.
"Sigh, I'm still too weak. If only—never mind, it's not the best time yet."
Muttering complaints and rubbing his sore shoulders, Shirou navigated around the nave of the church to the living quarters in the backyard.
Compared to the solemn and majestic nave, the backyard was much more modest. It was evident that the hillside church was originally built with the sole purpose of serving God, without emphasis on personal enjoyment.
Unfortunately, at this moment, the modest backyard was emanating a scent that was completely out of place in such an ascetic setting.
A strong, rich aroma with a fiery undertone—the distinctive scent of high-proof liquor.
Without needing to see, Shirou knew this was Semiramis's doing. Nothing about this woman, from her attire to her demeanor, matched the church setting. Drinking in the church was not surprising coming from her.
Sure enough, after just a few steps, he heard that familiar voice tinged with a lazy and decadent tone:
"Oh~ you're back, Master. I just discovered something good. Care to join me for a taste?"
"Hey, that seems to be my treasured stash," Shirou said, glancing at Semiramis sitting in the yard, then at the ceramic container in her hand, his lips twitching. "Where did you find that?"
"Who knows," Semiramis replied, her cheeks flushed—whether from the alcohol or slight embarrassment was unclear. "I just happened to stumble upon it. This liquor is quite good, though it burns the throat. I've never tasted anything like it in my lifetime."
"Of course you haven't. Distillation technology wasn't invented in your era."
Shirou retorted irritably. This liquor was something he had painstakingly procured from India, supposedly aged for a hundred years, intended to entertain an old friend. He hadn't expected Semiramis to find it.
Well, since the bottle was already opened, there was no point in dwelling on it. As the saying goes, "Drink today while the wine is here, deal with tomorrow's problems tomorrow."
With that thought, Shirou pushed his worries aside and walked into the kitchen.
"Master? Won't you share with me?"
"Wait a moment. Drinking without snacks is no fun."
When Shirou emerged from the room again, he carried a plate of peanuts, boiled eggs, and two blue and white porcelain cups—Semiramis was drinking the liquor from a wine glass and looked at the foods utterly absurdly.
"Here, classic drinking snacks."
"Just these? Compared to my imperial banquets, it's not even on the same level."
Seeing Semiramis's eyes, still hazy but now brimming with disdain, Shirou sighed deeply. "Ignorance is truly frightening."
"What do you mean?"
Shirou just smiled.
"That's because you don't understand."
Shirou grabbed the liquor jar from Semiramis's hand, filled the blue-and-white porcelain cup with liquor, and handed it over.
"Classics aren't just about elegant things, especially when it comes to food. Court-level delicacies are classics, but does that mean the dishes everyone can make at home aren't? Take the most common breakfast, milk and bread, for example. Dare you say it's not a classic?"
"Alright, I admit it's a classic, but—"
"You think it's unworthy of pairing with this fine liquor, not fit for a banquet?"
Seeing Semiramis's tacit agreement, Shirou continued, "That's where you don't understand. Whether it's good wine or bad wine, whether it's the upper class or the lower class, they all like to pair these with their drinks. The difference is just in the presentation, making it look nice for the occasion. Think about it—if you don't use this white porcelain plate but instead use a blue-and-white porcelain plate, carve a flower out of radishes, and garnish it with some celery shreds, wouldn't the taste immediately seem more refined? Yet, essentially, peanuts are still peanuts, and eggs are still eggs. I don't deny that visual appeal is important, but in culinary culture, deliciousness is the real deal—come, eat a few peanuts, take a sip of the liquor, and if it doesn't feel right, you can blame me!"
Skeptical, Semiramis picked up a peanut, chewed it slowly, then picked up another, and finally took a sip of the liquor.
Shirou smiled and asked, "How does it feel?"
Semiramis nodded slightly, "Indeed, it tastes much better with the liquor."
"That's the spirit."
With the precedent set by the peanuts, Semiramis treated the egg with much more respect.
"Compared to these home-style dishes, do you prefer high-standard banquets?"
"What I seek is the flavor of luxury."
"I see," Shirou mused.
"'I see' what?"
"Nothing. Among the Servants, there seem to be some who dislike spiritual form but are very enthusiastic about eating and sleeping. Most of these people are royalty."
"That's not surprising. Kings are often superior to anyone else and pursue a variety of things. It's the destiny of being a king."
"Aren't there some kings who adhere to simplicity?"
"That's because they've already grasped 'power,' which is more essential than anything else, so they use such means. To be a king, one must be tyrannical. It's a necessity."
After saying so much, Semiramis suddenly stopped.
"Oh, sorry, I rambled on about useless things."
"No, no, listening to the Assyrian Empress talk about kingship is quite enjoyable."
Shirou inexplicably started laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"Ah, the more I think about it, the more amusing this situation becomes. If our positions were reversed, it would be understandable. If I were the Servant and you the Master, it would be natural. However, the reality is the opposite. The Master-Servant system in the Holy Grail War can indeed create such strange situations."
"Hmph, indeed. Although I am used to being served, I am not accustomed to serving others. It's not too late; shall we switch roles?"
Shirou shook his head in response. "I must decline. You're not the type of monarch who is easy to serve."
Upon hearing this, a mischievous glint flashed in Semiramis's pale eyes. She murmured:
"The title of the world's oldest poisoner is not just for show, you know. This Empress is not someone you can order around."