Since that training session, every evening during camp, the group would gather around to watch Mike Bai train—well, try to train.
Although Mike Bai had grasped the basic principles, understanding something and actually doing it were two entirely different things. Every time, he was left battered and bruised, his head swelling from the repeated hits dealt by Otto.
This particular day, as usual, Mike Bai prepared to start his training, but Otto shook his head and stepped aside. Behind him stood the grinning, troublemaking figure of William, who immediately took Otto's place.
"Little Mike Bai!" William's smile was as mischievous as ever. "Today, Uncle William will show you what it really means to be a man!"
"Uh… what exactly can you teach me?" Mike Bai asked, puzzled.
"Of course, the pride of every man!" William flexed his arms, showing off his biceps. "Muscle!"
Although William thought of himself as impressive, Mike Bai couldn't help but think of him as a short, round figure with a big belly—like a giant meatball.
"Come on! Fight like a man!" William stripped off his shirt, picked up a thick wooden stick wrapped in cloth, and motioned for Mike Bai to attack.
Mike Bai sighed in exasperation but still lifted the custom-made small shield and sword that Demore had crafted for him, cautiously approaching.
"If you won't come to me, then I'll come to you!" William's thick legs tensed, and he launched himself forward like a cannonball.
Before Mike Bai could react, the human mountain known as William crashed into his shield, sending him tumbling backward.
"Ha! Little Mike Bai needs to eat more! That's how you grow strong!" William stood proudly where Mike Bai had been, grinning like a fool.
"That's not fair! You're so much bigger than me!" Mike Bai scrambled to his feet, angry.
"Fair? Who's gonna talk about fair?" William smirked. "I'm stronger than you. If you want fairness, then you can come crash into me!"
"You're not getting dinner tonight!!"
William's expression froze, then quickly shifted into a pleading smile. "Come on, kid! I was just teaching you! And I only used one-tenth of my strength! You could've blocked it, but you didn't know how!"
"So, how do I do it?" Mike Bai asked.
"It's simple, like this." William demonstrated by squatting low, positioning his hands in front of his chest.
Mike Bai mirrored the stance. William then kicked the shield with a heavy thud.
Despite the strength of the kick, Mike Bai felt his body stabilizing, as if it had become one solid unit. Though he slid back a few steps, he remained steady.
"See? I wasn't lying, right?" William walked up, grinning. "As for dinner…"
"Not happening," Mike Bai said flatly, ignoring William's whines. "Unless you teach me something useful."
"I can! I can!" William, clearly motivated by the prospect of food, eagerly began instructing Mike Bai on the finer points of using a shield and sword, from the fundamentals of posture to the dynamics of body movement. His lessons were varied and eclectic, covering everything from the basics to the more complex techniques.
"Who knew this old guy knew so much," Mike Bai thought. "I bet the others have some tricks up their sleeves too."
As if on cue, the next day, it was Patrick's turn to teach.
"Mike Bai, I don't know much, but I can show you what I know," Patrick said as he unsheathed his long sword. He demonstrated a series of strikes—overhead cuts, sweeping slashes, and horizontal cuts, each move fluid and precise, his body shifting with each arc of the blade.
Mike Bai watched, intrigued by the elegance of his movements.
"Make the sword part of your body," Patrick said after completing his demonstration. "That's all there is to it."
Mike Bai nodded deeply, understanding the lesson.
The third day, Demore took over. The burly knight simply said, "I'll teach you about sword guards and grips."
And so, with William, Patrick, and Demore all contributing to Mike Bai's training, the days passed, and the caravan finally made its way through the mountain roads of Bruna, arriving at the jewel of the Adriatic Sea: Venice.
From a distance, the city seemed to float upon a sea of canals, a maze of waterways crisscrossing beneath countless boats, large and small, plying their trade.
After crossing a floating bridge and paying the city's entrance tax, Mike Bai finally entered the city. The streets were lined with crowded shops, merchants haggling over prices, and wealthy women in vibrant clothing discussing the latest fashions.
Once settled into an inn, Mike Bai was eager to explore. He dragged Demore along to ask around about where he could sell his honey.
Indeed, back in Mainz, Mike Bai had learned that the honey he sold for 20 silver dinars a jar could fetch up to 40 silver dinars in Venice. He had exchanged all his savings for honey, hoping to make a fortune here.
But as often happens, reality didn't quite match the dream.
Speaking in halting Frankish, Mike Bai tried to sell his honey to the owner of a candle shop, but no matter how he explained, the owner just waved him off, refusing to buy. The same happened at several other stores, until one kind-hearted owner told him to try the guilds.
After much effort, Mike Bai finally located the Candle Guild. However, his hopes were quickly dashed.
"18 silver dinars per jar? How is that possible?!" Mike Bai argued, exasperated. "The retail price is 40 silver dinars! Even at wholesale, it should be at least 30!"
"Apologies, but our guild's rules dictate this pricing," the guildmaster said calmly. "You're not one of our regular suppliers, so the price is lower."
"And…" The guildmaster tasted a bit of Mike Bai's honey. "This is from the Holy Roman Empire, right?"
"That's right!" Mike Bai replied, eager to be understood.
"Well, you see, honey from the Empire is much sweeter than Iberian honey, but it produces less wax," the guildmaster explained. "You might try the Chef's Guild. They might offer a better price."
Mike Bai, feeling disheartened, headed over to the Chef's Guild. The result? The best offer was 20 silver dinars per jar.
Standing outside the Chef's Guild, Mike Bai cursed the honey salesman who had duped him, then sighed in frustration. He had a cart full of honey and couldn't bear to sell it at such a loss.
Mike Bai dipped his finger into a jar of honey, savoring its smooth texture. The perfect balance of sweetness brought a sense of happiness without being overpowering.
After much deliberation, he realized that if he couldn't sell the honey for candles, the next best thing was to eat it. But if he just ate it raw, it wouldn't bring in nearly as much.
"Ugh, I'll just go back for now," he muttered.
Back at the inn, Mike Bai stared at his cart full of honey. What had once been a potential windfall now seemed like a bust. He had refrained from eating any, hoping to profit, but now he decided it was time to indulge.
With the last of his silver, he went to the market to buy some fine flour, eggs, and fresh milk. Using the yeast from the local beer to replace regular leavening, he mixed the ingredients with fresh honey to make small round loaves of bread.
But Mike Bai wasn't satisfied with just that. He took the leftover egg yolks, milk, and honey and whipped them up into a rich, creamy filling. Then, he stuffed the dough with this luxurious mixture before sending it all into the oven.
As the fire in the hearth grew warmer, the scent of baking bread filled the air. Mike Bai stood by the oven, breathing in the delicious aroma, remembering how he had once learned to make these soft-centered cakes just to impress a girl.
"Little Mike Bai!" William, with his dog-like nose, suddenly appeared, drooling at the smell.
Soon, Patrick, Demore, and even Otto appeared at the door, clearly attracted by the sweet scent.
The fire gently roasted the small loaves, turning them golden and crispy on the outside. The sound of the crust cracking as it baked filled the room.
"This smell—it's like first love, sweet but unforgettable," Demore remarked, sighing.
Of course, when William said it, it sounded more like, "This smells better than the 10 silver-dinar perfume my wife bought!"
"Where did you read that?" Mike Bai asked.
"I don't remember, but I'm pretty sure the Romans ate this at their feasts," Mike Bai shrugged, easily making up an answer.
Finally, when the bread was done, Mike Bai opened the oven door. The sweet fragrance exploded into the room like a flood, filling everyone's nostrils with the heavenly aroma of honey and vanilla.
Before Mike Bai could even stop him, William, the closest, grabbed one, blew on it twice, and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. The bread, soft and yielding, surrendered to his teeth. As the warm, gooey filling of honey and vanilla spread across his taste buds, William stood frozen, tears welling up in his eyes.
"I miss my mom…" he muttered, as the others stood speechless, each savoring the rich, buttery flavor in their own way.
"It's that good?" Mike Bai asked, astonished by their reactions.
"So, what's the name of this bread?" Otto asked, wiping a tear from his eye.
"What?" Mike Bai was caught off guard.
"What's the name of this bread?" Otto repeated, now curious.
"The Queen's Bread," Mike Bai said, suddenly inspired.
The group nodded approvingly. Such a noble name was fit for a bread of this caliber.
Wait a minute, Mike Bai thought suddenly. "You've never had this before?"
Otto, the most well-traveled, shook his head. "I've been to banquets with counts, dukes, even emperors, but none of their bread was a patch on this."
Mike Bai looked at the loaf in his hand, realizing that he wouldn't have to worry about selling his honey after all.
With a sly grin, he quickly wrapped up a couple of the cakes and rushed out, leaving the others still speechless.
Back at the Chef's Guild, Mike Bai nearly barged into the guildmaster's office. The guildmaster and his assistant were in the middle of a meal when they froze at his sudden appearance.
"Good afternoon. I didn't expect to see you in such a rush. What can I do for you?" the guildmaster asked, hiding his surprise.
Mike Bai pulled out the still-warm Queen's Bread.
"Guildmaster, please, try this!" he urged.
The scent, though not as strong as when it first came out of the oven, was enough to captivate the guildmaster and his assistant.
The assistant bit into the bread, and his face lit up with astonishment. "This... this…"
The guildmaster, unable to hold back, tore the bread open to reveal the smooth, flowing filling. He tasted it and immediately broke into a grin. "How did you do this?"
Mike Bai, still grinning, replied, "I heard the Governor is throwing a grand banquet next month for his daughter's engagement. This bread, made with my special honey, will surely leave a lasting impression on all the guests."
"Well, name your price for the recipe and your honey," the guildmaster said eagerly.
Mike Bai smiled a fox-like grin. "Let's sit down and talk business."