A Mage Reborn: Legacy of the Fallen Emperor
Chapter 59. Recruitment

Chapter 59: Chapter 59. Recruitment

"Gulla? You..."

His face was a mask, the kind that said he had a lot to say but wouldn’t. Even for a bastard born of a commoner, this was beyond the pale. Gulla was a poisonous weed that even stray dogs wouldn’t touch.

To think he’d brazenly burst through the front gates, not even knowing this. He’d have been better off trying to negotiate a price with Count Mereloff.

"But it’s true. The seeds of Gulla are edible. You can roast them, boil them, even eat them raw. In terms of nutrients, satiety, efficiency – in every way, it’s truly a divine blessing."

"That’s absurd."

To think that no one had known about such an incredible crop until now? What did he take the great Bariel Empire for? It was almost infuriating. Even now, scholars in the Imperial Palace were working tirelessly, day in and day out, to find a way to overcome the great famine.

And yet, Gulla, something that grew everywhere, was a divine blessing?

"I’ve been eating it lately."

"Eating it?"

"Yes. It’s quite delicious. I’m certain Lord Romandro, once you’ve tasted it, you won’t be able to resist it. It only takes about a month to grow, so winter won’t be a problem."

Screech.

The smoothly running carriage came to a halt. Once in the village square, once in front of the alley where the entertainment district was gathered, and again in the residential area. Each time the carriage stopped, the subordinates who had left earlier climbed aboard.

But Berick, that guy, his face looked a bit strange. It wasn’t just flushed; every time he grinned, he reeked of wine. Ian glared at him and gave him a light scolding.

"Berick. You haven’t been doing your job."

"Huh? No, no. Just a little. The owner kept insisting."

Berick, who had climbed aboard in front of the entertainment district, sniffled. Just how much booze had he guzzled in that short time? Just as Ian was about to frown, Berick quickly changed the subject, reporting on the situation.

"That’s the most popular tavern around here. Dozens of people heard my story. They said they’d put up a notice."

-We will pay for Gulla brought to us.

This was the meaning of Ian’s suggestion to buy "people." The people of the territory would gather Gulla in the forests near Bratz, and Mereloff’s people would do the same near Mereloff.

"Did you specify the payment and the deadline?"

"Of course. One gold coin for three large sacks. We’ll accept them for the next month."

One gold coin was the amount a lower-class laborer could earn in a month. Filling three sacks would be no easy task, given the small size of Gulla, but someone with good stamina could probably manage it in two weeks.

"But isn’t that a bit too generous? A gold coin?"

"That’s what it takes to make them scour the forest with fire in their eyes. When you consider the plentiful winter that a single sack of Gulla will bring, it’s not that expensive."

And most importantly, the "deadline."

If they didn’t set a one-month deadline, people would definitely start cultivating it. He apologized, but that was absolutely unacceptable. What Ian wanted was Gulla itself, but also for all the nearby sprouts to wither and die.

"How is Mereloff’s harvest looking this year?"

"Not very good, it seems. They weren’t much for farming to begin with, and the river was polluted by the battle between the Central Army and Brats. They’re predicting a poor harvest amongst themselves."

"What do they usually do in Mereloff during a poor harvest?"

"During the winter, merchant caravans come to Bariel from the Hawan Kingdom. That’s when economic activity is at its peak."

"...Merchant caravans."

"They say they have everything but the kitchen sink. The really big ones carry enough dried meat to last for years. The people of Mereloff provide them with lodging and conveniences in exchange for buying food."

"So that’s why they don’t get too agitated even during a poor harvest."

"Honestly, it’s probably easier to find a year without a poor harvest in Mereloff."

Romandro’s subordinate provided an excellent answer to Ian’s continued questioning. He must have thoroughly gathered information before being dispatched.

Anyway, they didn’t know how the harvest would turn out this fall. If they secured as much Gulla as possible...

Who knows?

Perhaps Mereloff would be the one to propose a trade. While Ian was mentally outlining his plans for the winter, Romandro just held his temples, groaning.

Gulla? Gulla?

He wanted to rush back to his estate and verify Ian’s claims immediately. If it turned out to be false, he’d give that magic user a piece of his mind, regardless of his status. And first thing in the morning, he’d go back to see Count Mereloff.

"Hey. Can’t you go any faster?"

"Is there something urgent?"

"Ah, stop asking so many questions!"

"Alright. It’ll be a bit bumpy. Let’s go!"

Crack! Neigh!

Whether Ian knew or didn’t know Romandro’s concerns, he only sharply slapped away Beric’s hand, which was reaching for the dried meat in the box.

"Ah, come on now, Master. You’re being too harsh."

"Sober up before you talk. Your speech has become like a street thug’s."

"My mouth is bitter. Just one? Huh? Just one."

By the time they finally arrived at the mansion, only an empty box remained. As soon as Romandro stepped out of the carriage, the entire household, including the kitchen staff, was thrown into chaos.

"What did you say? Cook with this?"

"This is Gulla. Your jokes are getting worse by the day."

"No, it’s true. Lord Ian ordered us to prepare food with Gulla. He said all methods for preparing emergency rations are applicable, but to make sure to check for any flesh around the seeds."

The kitchen staff all stood with their arms crossed, staring down at the box of Gulla. No matter how they thought about it, it was a waste of ingredients, a waste of fuel, and a waste of manpower. Who in the world would make a meal out of roadside weeds?

The Head Chef, having no other choice, went up to Ian’s room himself to confirm the order.

"Lord Ian. About tonight’s dinner."

"Ah, yes. You heard, right? For your information, I prefer Gulla boiled until it’s thoroughly cooked and then used in various dishes. I like it cold too, but when it’s warm, it slides down the throat beautifully."

"..."

He’s not joking. He’s serious.

The Head Chef took off his hat in disbelief and bowed deeply. The kitchen staff huddled together, badgering the Head Chef.

"What did he say? Is he really making us cook with Gulla?"

"Yes. Everyone, get the fires going."

"I don’t understand it, I really don’t. Ah! I get it! It must be for Molin and his group."

"Are you stupid? Have you ever seen anyone die from eating Gulla?"

"Of course not! Who would eat that stuff?"

"No, if you’re weak, you could die from the poison. Remember that old shoe-shiner? He died after eating Gulla and getting sick."

Clatter!

Had the kitchen ever been this noisy? The Head Chef couldn’t even bring himself to quiet the commotion as he spun the pan. He felt like all the sauces and spices being sprinkled on top were being thrown down the drain. In all his life, this was the first time he’d felt guilty while cooking.

And a few hours later...

Romandro, his expression filled with tension, tucked a napkin into his collar. The dining room doors opened, and the servants entered, pushing trolleys in a line. A familiar yet unfamiliar aroma wafted through the air. One thing he could be certain of was that it stimulated his salivary glands.

"All of this... is made with Gulla?"

"Chef. Please introduce the dishes."

"...To be precise, it’s Gulla seeds. This is a dessert made by roasting Gulla seeds and simmering them in honey. And this is a stew. When boiled, they become much larger. I can’t give it a name, as there isn’t one."

Ian himself didn’t know the detailed recipes. As Emperor, he had been on the receiving end, never having set foot in the kitchen.

But a single glance was enough. Those who had spent their lives in front of a fire could create visually and aromatically stimulating dishes just by feel.

Clink.

"Hm."

Ian showed no hesitation in tasting the food. He scooped and dipped, savoring the Gulla to the fullest. Romandro frowned, poking at the Gulla skeptically.

"...Is the doctor waiting outside?"

"No. It’s the middle of the night, he’d be at home, wouldn’t he?"

"I told you to have him on standby!"

"Hahaha. It’s a joke. Don’t worry, please try it."

Ian laughed heartily as Romandro sighed deeply and closed his eyes. Then, in one swift motion, he shoveled the Gulla into his mouth.

"Hngh!"

Romandro let out an involuntary noise. Ian watched his eyes slowly widen, unable to suppress a smile. Actions speak louder than words, and his spoon scooped up another helping of stew.

"Does it suit your taste?"

"This, this..."

Why is this so delicious? Romandro looked utterly bewildered, captivated by the unprecedented delicacy. Ian gestured to the servants standing near the back of the dining room.

"You all, come here."

"Sir? Are you speaking to us?"

"Don’t just stand there, have some food. Aren’t you curious?"

The servants hesitated, glancing at Romandro. He was practically drinking the soup straight from the bowl, like a man possessed. Touching the master’s table was one thing, but the reputation of the weed made them hesitant to take a step.

"Thank you."

"What would you like to try?"

"I’ll have the one simmered in honey."

The first to step forward was Hannah. She took the food with a good-natured air and ate it, then covered her mouth in surprise, her eyes wide.

"It’s delicious."

"Right?"

"Hannah, is it really good?"

"Try it, sister."

"Then, if you’ll excuse me, Lord Ian..."

They figured that if the lord and the Imperial Advisor were eating it like that, it couldn’t be that bad. At Hannah’s urging, the servants gathered one by one, taking the Gulla dishes.

"Huh?"

"Hm... Is this really Gulla?"

"It’s unbelievable. It’s really delicious."

Ian watched the household with a faint smile. He had offered them food partly because they looked hungry, but also because they were the ones who would connect Ian and the people of the territory.

They were the crucial starting point for the dissemination of Gulla. One person becomes two, two become four. As with all great endeavors, the beginning is always humble.

"Ha, this is really amazing. How did you find it?"

Romandro finally came to his senses and wiped his mouth. All the dishes in front of him were completely empty.

"It was by chance."

"Was Derga not feeding you?"

"That’s not it. Anyway, we can get through this winter with Gulla. Starting tomorrow, let’s have greenhouses built in the garden. It can take root even in dry sand or water, but it’s vulnerable to the cold."

While they were building the greenhouses, they could mobilize the people of Mereloff and Brats to sweep up all the Gulla in the area. With a guaranteed demand, they needed to control the supply in this area to gain an advantage in the market.

"When it snows... Right. I see, it’s certainly hard to find in the winter."

Romandro mumbled, licking his spoon clean, having forgotten all decorum. Then, he suddenly asked Ian,

"After a few days, if there are no problems with my body, I’ll have to include this information in my report to the Imperial Palace. Would that be alright?"

"Of course. You must inform them. Please be sure to include the circumstances of the discovery."

He meant not to leave out Ian’s name. Indeed, it would be absurd for Romandro, who had only recently arrived in the borderlands, to have independently discovered the edibility of Gulla. Romandro waved his hand as if to say not to worry.

"When it comes to reports, I write only the truth, even if a sword is held to my throat. Anyway, can I have some more?"

"I’m afraid not. We have very little for now. Remember, each seed produces more than ten Gulla."

Ian smiled and refused, and Romandro could only smack his lips in disappointment, setting down his spoon. He should have stopped the servants when they started taking the Gulla.

"And everyone, until we have enough Gulla seeds, keep this strictly confidential."

At Ian’s command, Hannah and the other servants solemnly mimed zipping their lips shut.