Seeing the food arranged on the table, Marcus's salivary glands were stimulated. The table was filled with pastries, pies, bread, stew, etc.
Sitting down, he took a sniff of the fragrance of the delicacies. He didn't have to wait long; soon Sol prepared everyone's servings. Looking at the neatly organized palette of servings in front of him, Marcus wasted no time in taking a mouthful bite of the pie.
The juicy sweetness filled his mouth like a tidal wave, and Marcus shivered just from the sheer sensation on his taste buds. This was the first proper meal he had since coming to this world. Heck, even in his previous world, he had never had this kind of meal.
He had to work overtime, and the lunch breaks were short, so most of the time, he would have to eat in a cheap restaurant or indulge in instant noodles. At home, his dinners and breakfasts were boring, as he didn't have much energy to spare after coming from work, nor did he have a wife who would cook for him.
So it would be safe to say he was habituated to bland packaged food. So, this could be said to be a first-time experience for him. So much so that he was having difficulty in not acting like an uncivilized barbarian in front of others.
Completing his share, he put the plate down. Now that he was done eating, he had a chance to look at everyone's expression. There was silence, everyone looking at him awkwardly. Even though he was confused, when he saw everyone's untouched plates, he had some idea of what the case was.
He really wanted to dig himself six feet underground now. Then he realized he could really do that.
"No, if I do that, it might really cause my social death."
He had to do everything in his willpower to not let his powers act up.
Just to save the non-existent face he had left, he looked at the floor to hide his face, which was red from shame.
Isabel could not control herself from laughing again. This only added to Marcus's embarrassment.
"Damn it, why does it feel like she is doing it on purpose?"
Sol, who saw Marcus's distress, tactfully filled up his plate again. Isabel's laughter also died down, and the place once again returned to silence.
After waiting like this for a few minutes, the doors were once more opened. A blonde man in his prime walked in with long strides. He had a dignified presence and a well-built body.
Coming to their table, he sat down on one of the seats. Looking at the count, he nodded and handed him a paper.
"This is the report of all the herds that were brought from the forest. Our operations seemed to have disrupted by what my subordinates think is a mana phenomenon."
"Good, have you gathered all your soldiers?"
"Yes, three days ago, I gave an order for everyone to return to the stronghold. Except for the important matter, all other ongoing operations have been forfeited."
"I will compensate for the minor setbacks. So, how many men are there in the group?"
"Currently, I have 150 in the stronghold, of which only 100 are combat-ready, and the rest are still in training. I can spare 50 of them without compromising on the defense of the stronghold."
The count looked at Isabel, his eyes asking the question.
"Yes, it will be enough, but tell me, how many of them are not fodder?"
"There are 5 squires; they are all my disciples and are combat-experienced."
"I will be brutally honest with you; the trash will only die in this operation. If they don't have some degree of mana expertise, it's better not to send them. I want a squad that can swiftly take action and follow orders properly."
"It wasn't for the civil war killing most of the soldiers; we wouldn't be in this kind of bad condition."
His expression became pained after saying that.
"Sadly, I will not be able to accompany you since I will be needed in the stronghold. I hope you will be able to succeed."
The man stood up, bowed, and then took his leave. He didn't even touch the food that was served to him.
After the breakfast, as everyone was taking their leave, Marcus asked Isabel about the man he had a vague guess about.
"Who was that man?"
"Oh, it's Knight Cornwell."
"He didn't look like a knight, though."
"Haha, knight is just a title used in the army; you'd rather call him a general in charge of a small army."
Marcus was now seeing this Knight Cornwell in a new light. He continued to ask some more trivial questions.
"Was the civil war he spoke of indeed so deadly?"
"More or less."
"What are we going to do tomorrow that you need such an elite force?"
"I told you it was to gather resources; you can also think of it as a raid."
"A raid? Are we going to face dangerous enemies?"
"Yes."
Marcus felt none of the answers were satisfactory enough.
"I have to go somewhere."
Hearing Cedric's words, Marcus, who was having an inconclusive conversation with Isabel, parted ways with her.
Watching her leave for her room, he inquired of Cedric about the matter.
"When we came here, my armor and sword were taken by the count for safekeeping. I will have to retake them for tomorrow's expedition."
"How are your injuries? Can you fight?"
"It was mostly healed; the count even gave me a minor healing potion as a show of goodwill."
"Wait, when did that happen?"
"When you were sleeping yesterday."
Even though the count asked him for his help, right now he felt like the most isolated and ignored one in the group. Even Cedric was getting more attention than him.
Both of them reached out to Sol to ask him to take them to the armory where Cedric's belongings were kept. He readily agreed and started guiding the two.
Even though Cedric said he could go alone, Marcus tagged along since he wanted to see the armory and check if there was anything that he could use.
Reaching the iron doors of the armory, Marcus pushed open the heavy doors to see the interior. His expectations were not betrayed after seeing the inside.