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It was just the thing to help finish his bottle of whiskey.

The man in front of him asked for the price and the master announced a number that was much higher than even the stew.

Apparently, he had used charcoal of especially high quality to make it.

Needless to say, it sold out even faster than the stew did.

The whiskey did well that day as well.

The last thing the master brought him was a small bowl containing something that was boiled.

Bard did not recognize it and asked what it was. It was cororose giblets.

He was not aware of the fact that such parts were edible, but by now he had experienced the master’s skills first hand, and it did look delicious.

And so he took one bite.

This is!

There was surprisingly no stench or harshness at all.

The thin flavored broth had soaked well into the pieces. It was without a doubt a good side dish for anyone who enjoyed to drink.

He quickly took another bite.

Mmmm!

This one tasted quite different from the last bite.

Completely different.

Its texture was different, as were the juices from the meat that spread in his mouth.

But he did not know how to explain it.

It was a taste that pierced his entire body.

He felt like an entirely different part of his body was tasting it.

The master explained as Bard sat in surprise.

“Well, since you drained all the blood out really well, I thought I could do something with this.

You have to change the water many times and remove the harshness.

Of course, as they are internal organs, there are all kinds of things in there. The trick is to clean it well.

But the defining factor was the rock salt which this town is famous for.

Depending on how you cook it, this dish could have turned out smelling quite bad.

It’s only once every few years that I can cook something like this.

With these organs, every part has a different taste.

So even a small bowl like this is stuffed with so much variety.”

The man sitting on the other side of Bard ordered the same dish.

The master tells him the price.

It is even more expensive than the broiled skin.

He tells him that this is because it is a very rare dish and that it is in the best possible condition.

The man does not hesitate this time.

He takes a bite and exclaims that it is delicious! His shout is followed by a storm of orders from the others.

The girl energetically runs from table to table and it is quickly sold out.

All in all, it had been a very successful night at the inn for the master.

Bard too was satisfied.

Just as he was thinking of retiring, the once lively room suddenly fell quiet.

Everyone was looking towards the entrance.

Three men had just walked in through the open door.

They had both the appearance and air of troublemakers.

The one who stood in the front was a tall and fat man.

His left ear was deformed and there was a large scar on his left cheek.

His gaze scanned the room with vulgar eyes.

“Oh, Oh.

Everyone looks to be in high spirits, it cheers me up as well!”

He said with a gruff voice.

Then he slammed the battle-axe in his right hand to the floor.

“Though, I do hope that none of you allow this merriment to cause you to come to work late, tomorrow?

Ohh, yes.

Since you are all so vigorous, I think we can cut tomorrow’s time of rest into half!”

He continued with a face distorted with disdain.

One by one, the customers in the inn got up from their seat and left.

The man with the battle-axe jerked his chin towards one customer who was trying to leave.

Then one of the men with him took the customer to a corner of the room and they began to talk.

Bard could hear that it was about something distasteful, concerning debts and a younger sister for the night.

He was now the last person still sitting down, and the man with the battle-axe now approached him.

He glared at Bard and then the sword that leaned against his chair.

Bard was sitting on the edge of his seat, his left hand was ready to grab his sword at any moment.

Next, the man with the battle-axe looked towards Bard’s hands.

A knife and a fork.

But most customers here either ate with their hands or used wooden ladles or skewers to eat.

That was normal.

There was something rather fancy about the utensils that Bard had brought.

Both were made of metal.

The knife was especially beautiful, with intricate engravings showing on its silvery surface.

Such extravagances did not suit this countryside gants.

Bard seemed to pay little mind to the rage that emitted from the man with the battle-axe. He quietly brought the last piece of food to his mouth and downed it with the last sips of his whiskey. Then he sighed.

The man’s rage dissipated as if his enthusiasm had been dampened. He took his men and left the inn behind them.