"Eat it?" Angelina replied hesitantly. "I think… probably?"
After nearly a week of nothing but fruit and saltwater crab meat, even Angelina, who had once been accustomed to royal banquets, found every meal to be a joyless chore. As for Caesar, who had endured many hardships in his life, he was also starting to grow sick of their monotonous diet. It's easy to grow accustomed to luxury, but difficult to return to simplicity. After all, Caesar used to be a squad leader. Back in the logistics department, the kitchen staff would often give him special treatment. As a man who both appreciated and understood good food, Caesar had enjoyed a variety of dishes daily during his time as a leader.
However, Caesar never showed his frustration in front of Angelina. She's a princess, he'd remind himself. If she isn't complaining about the repetitive meals, what right do I have as a grown man to grumble? Caesar had been doing his best to maintain a "manly" demeanor lately. For instance, just yesterday, when he removed the stitches from a wound on his arm, Angelina had watched with a frown as blood seeped from the ragged gash. Despite the pain, Caesar had remained outwardly calm and unfazed.
Since the fruit was apparently edible, Caesar bit into one of the fiery fruits with the edge of his teeth and gave it a tentative lick. The moment the fruit touched his tongue, his expression changed dramatically. Without hesitation, he bolted towards the nearby spring, gulping down mouthfuls of fresh water and rinsing his mouth repeatedly.
"What happened?" Angelina asked, her lips curving into a slight smile. To her, Caesar's frantic water-drinking looked comical—perhaps the most flustered she'd seen him in days.
Unbothered by her amusement, Caesar finally stopped drinking and returned to her with an enthusiastic grin. Completely out of context, he declared, "Tonight, you're in for a treat. I'm making grilled meat!"
"Grilled meat? Sounds great!"
Over the past few days, Caesar had been perfecting his grilling technique. Despite the lack of seasonings, he had managed to make saltwater crab taste unique depending on the cooking temperature and grilling time—rare, medium, well-done—each variation brought a distinct texture and flavor. Compared to the simple "meat fruit" Caesar had prepared earlier, his grilled crab was practically gourmet cuisine.
It actually tastes spicy! Caesar thought excitedly. Spice, especially chili, was a luxury ingredient usually reserved for nobles and the wealthy. Caesar had only tasted it once before, after half-coercing the camp's cook to share a stash intended for the baron. That meal had been unforgettable. However, the fiery fruit's spice was far more intense than any chili powder Caesar had ever tasted—it was as if a firestorm had erupted in his mouth.
That night, their dinner was one of the best they'd had in days. The grilled saltwater crab, sprinkled with salt and fiery fruit powder, had its flavor elevated to a whole new level. If they had more crab left, they would have gladly grilled another batch.
Speaking of salt, they had Angelina to thank for their supply. Despite Caesar having eaten salt his entire life, he had never known how it was made. Angelina had shown him that by boiling water from the salt lake and letting it evaporate, the remaining crystals would be pure salt.
"I often helped my teacher in the alchemy lab, so I know how to extract certain materials," Angelina explained.
Caesar had no idea what an alchemy lab was, but he admired Angelina deeply—much like he respected Chaxi, the woman who had taught him to read and write. Caesar had never hidden the fact that he was largely illiterate, and in their downtime, he often asked Angelina to teach him how to write. Thanks to Chaxi's earlier lessons, he could already write his name neatly. Now, he was determined to learn how to write the names of his mother and sister. As for his father's name… Old Locke—no need to learn that, he thought with a smirk.
Without proper alchemical tools or a lab, Angelina wasn't sure how to extract salt efficiently. Fortunately, Caesar had a knack for improvisation. Using the intact shells of saltwater crabs, he fashioned makeshift pans. Balancing them on a simple wooden frame over the fire, they slowly boiled the lake water. The crab shells were small—each about the size of a palm—so the process was slow and laborious. While Caesar went out foraging, Angelina stayed behind, tending the fire and extracting salt little by little. After two days, they had accumulated half a water flask full of salt—enough to last them a month. It was a far superior method compared to Caesar's initial idea of just scooping lake water into a flask.
Speaking of food, Caesar had also discovered that the claws of the saltwater crabs were unexpectedly delicious. While they seemed hard enough to crush rocks, their shells softened when exposed to high heat. With a sharp blade, Angelina had shown Caesar how to carefully slice them open. Angelina, though lacking practical experience, had extensive theoretical knowledge thanks to her teacher's impressive collection of books.
The crab claws, being the largest and hardest part of the saltwater crab, were likely its most nutrient-rich section. Even so, a single claw—about half the size of Caesar's palm—yielded only a thin strip of meat, no longer than a pinky finger. Fortunately, Caesar had stockpiled a decent number of claws earlier.
"If these crabs have a magical creature-grade king among them, then they must possess traces of magical bloodline. I can feel faint magical energy in these claws," Angelina said thoughtfully.
If it might be magical creature meat, then there was no question—they would eat it!
The meat was scarce, but Caesar could definitely tell the difference. A faint tingling sensation spread through his body after he ate it, and he even felt a slight increase in his fighting energy. Though the effect wasn't particularly strong, it was noticeable.
"Magical creature meat needs to be consumed consistently over time for its benefits to become apparent," Angelina said casually as she ate. In the royal palace, magical creature meat was a common part of her diet, and she had even tasted the meat of true magical beasts. For her, these thin strips of meat were hardly worth mentioning. Perhaps this was one reason she had managed to endure so long during their earlier escape—every strong body is built on proper nutrition.
For an entry-level squire, magical creature meat was already considered precious. As a princess, Angelina frequently enjoyed what Caesar considered extravagant: the meat of magical beasts. Low and mid-level magical beasts, which corresponded to the strength of low and mid-tier squires, were creatures that even Knight Will could hunt with ease. For a royal family with countless experts like him, these beasts were nothing out of reach.
Three more days passed. Caesar's injuries had almost fully healed. With a slight flex of his body, the dull gray scabs cracked and fell away, leaving faint white scars behind. His fighting energy had replenished to its peak, and the vortex of energy within him had grown noticeably larger. "Training at the brink of life and death is the best way for a knight to break through," Knight Will had once told Caesar during his early training.
Years of warfare had made Caesar accustomed to walking the line between life and death, but it wasn't something he enjoyed. No one willingly dances face-to-face with death. This time, however, Caesar had made a significant breakthrough in his fighting energy, partially thanks to the crab claw meat, which contained faint traces of magical power. The benefits of consuming magical creature meat for the first time were clear.
Angelina had also fully recovered her magical and mental energy. While she lacked Caesar's physical strength and stamina, the few spells she had mastered were her greatest protection in the dangerous jungle. Even Caesar couldn't guarantee he could always keep her safe; the brown wolf they had encountered that day had left an indelible mark on his mind.
The two planned to leave their current location the next day and head out of the Bering Mountains. They were currently at the western border between the Bering Mountains and Mophy Forest. To leave the mountains, they would have to head east and cross the Bering range to rendezvous with the Garrel army stationed outside.
After some discussion, they decided to head northeast. The southeastern route was the longest, and while much of southern Shiloh had already fallen, it wasn't heavily occupied by Garrel forces. Angelina, as a princess, would face countless risks without sufficient protection in such an area.
Heading directly east was technically the shortest route, and they could quickly distance themselves from the magical creature territories. However, the memory of that blood-red horror still haunted them, and the eastern region was currently where the Eagle Legion was stationed. Battles were fierce there, and the danger was extreme.
The northeastern route led to the Lion Legion, which had already surrounded most of Odis City. While Shiloh's royal capital was still holding out in a desperate last stand, the surrounding areas were relatively safer. But the most compelling reason was that Prince Kensel was stationed there. Angelina hadn't forgotten her mission amidst all the hardship, and she firmly believed her brother would ensure her safety.
Caesar naturally agreed with the princess's decision without hesitation. After days of traveling together, he was beginning to realize the vast gulf that still existed between them. Once they reached Prince Kensel, would Angelina hold him accountable for their ambiguous closeness? Would Prince Kensel have him executed for taking advantage of his sister? Execution? That would be merciful. For a commoner who violated a noble, punishment often extended to their family, and the offender would face death by fire at the stake.
Caesar stole a glance at Angelina. Her face still carried that serene, saintly expression. Her golden hair cascaded down her shoulders like flowing silk, and her sapphire-blue eyes exuded wisdom and intelligence. Caesar felt she wouldn't treat him so cruelly—after all, there had been several nights when Angelina, cold and shivering, had leaned into his arm for warmth. Every morning, that soft sensation would vanish without a word, and Caesar never brought it up. Their relationship remained in this ambiguous yet warm balance.
Not far away, an aging brown mountain wolf stared curiously at the plants beside its den. A few fiery red fruits had gone missing. This wolf was a fire-element magical creature, as evidenced by its brown fur tinged with reddish hues. When it bit into prey, faint flames would flicker between its teeth, instantly cauterizing and sealing wounds, preventing excessive blood loss. Combined with its sturdier-than-average physique, this distinguished it from ordinary wild beasts.
Mountain wolves were carnivores—they didn't eat the fiery red fruits. However, these fruits emanated a faint fire-element aura that the old wolf found comforting. Magical creatures often chose their dens based on the presence of such magical plants. It wasn't about protecting valuable treasures or consuming them when ripe; they simply found these places comfortable to live in.