The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound
Chapter 207: Night of the Festival (2)Chapter 207 Night of the Festival (2)
The festival had begun. Numerous stalls were set up inside the academy. Everywhere, lively music echoed, and colorful lights illuminated the night. Piles of food were displayed on large tables, almost overflowing, as men and women, adorned in vibrant costumes, moved about.
Those enjoying the festival were all dressed as ghosts. Most were zombies or skeletons, with occasional appearances of vampires and mummies. The Newspaper club, which had opened a cafe, was no exception.
“Welcome! This is a haunted cafe adorned with romance and chivalry!”
“The snacks are delicious, and the waiters are charming! Come on in!”
“Sancho! Get the orders ready!”
Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy were actively engaging in promotional activities. Tudor, dressed in a Death Knight costume, discussed knights and romance, attracting female customers.
“Beautiful lady, would you like to discuss drinks and poetry with me at the Newspaper club’s cafe?”
“Kyaa—sure!”
“Looks like a wandering knight!”
Even Sancho, disguised as a snow maiden, was popular among other macho men.
“Wahaha! Come to the Newspaper club’s cafe! If you come before 9 p.m., we’ll serve you a boiling warrior’s blood stew as a bonus!”
“Oh? Is that a lump of protein and iron? If I drink that, I might consider lifting 3 tons!”
“Even though you’re dressed as a woman, you’ve got quite a manly vibe! Hahaha—let’s go, check it out!”
Figgy, dressed as a fairy, also attracted attention among the women.
“U-Um, excuse me. Please take this flyer!”
“Oh, my? Look at this cute child. Are you also an academy student?”
“If your concept is to stimulate maternal instincts, it’s a success! Hoho—let’s go, I’ll tell it to other older sisters.”
As a result, the area in front of the Newspaper club’s cafe became crowded with people.
Meanwhile,
“Th-this is too immodest, isn’t it? Could there be controversy? Who would put up ‘Night hound’ in the lot…?”
Saint Dolores hesitated behind the cafe. Black gloves, a black cloak, boots, and a plague doctor mask covering her entire face – the Night Hound look.
Passing by, Tudor saw Dolores and laughed.
“Well, it might be a weird coincidence, for the Night Hound attire.”
“…Is that so?”
“Still, the plague doctor mask is not unique to the Night Hound. It’s a look that frequently appears during Halloween and festivals. It’s been a traditional costume for a long time. If we suddenly prohibit certain costumes just because of Night Hound, wouldn’t that be a bit odd?”
Indeed, just by looking at the neighboring cafe, people wearing plague doctor masks could be seen from time to time. It was a costume that had steadily trended during the Halloweens of the past, making it impractical to enforce restrictions now.
“…”
Dolores was conflicted. Only she knew that Night Hound was innocent. However, dressing like this might make some people uncomfortable.
As Dolores pondered whether to go forward or not,
“What’s with that attire?”
As expected, someone appeared uncomfortable with Dolores’ outfit.
Professor Banshee Morg, the supervisor of the Newspaper club, approached.
“Dolores, I never expected you to choose such a thoughtless outfit.”
“…”
“Even though it’s a festival meant to be enjoyed without much thought, one must have considered the social repercussions of their attire, wouldn’t you say? How can one emulate such an irredeemable trash, a heinous criminal.”
Professor Banshee’s criticism was sharp.
His words fell within a rational realm of understanding, but the final remark deeply touched Dolores’s emotions.
‘He’s not a criminal! Instead, he is more sacred and noble than anyone else…!’
However, Dolores couldn’t shout it out like that. It went against the will of Night Hound, who preferred not to reveal its identity.
So, Dolores decided to be assertive.
“I like this attire.”
“….What?”
“I’ll be serving like this.”
Dolores’s words, with tightly bitten lips, left Professor Banshee looking dumbfounded.
“Well, Dolores, it’s disappointing. I thought you were a smart student despite your youth.”
“….”
“Well, you’ll bear the consequences of your actions. Even if I’m the advisor, I have no right to interfere with a student’s attire. Deal with it yourself.”
Professor Banshee, as if expressing disdain, stuck out his tongue and returned to the tent.
Meanwhile, Tudor, Sancho, and Figgy, who were watching, were whispering to each other.
“What’s up? Professor Banshee is here. Why did he come?”
“It’s not just Professor Banshee. Other professors are here too.”
“Usually, during the festival, professors visit the main Cafe and stalls of each department and class to boost sales.”
That’s right. Professors also enjoy the festival. It was an implicit custom among professors to visit the Cafe run by their assigned students, sell drinks and snacks, crack jokes, and attract other customers.
Therefore, Professor Banshee also came to the Newspaper club’s cafe today.
However.
Not a single person among the students working at the bar welcomed Professor Banshee’s visit.
And for a good reason….
“Tsk!”
Professor Banshee took a bite of the dish Tudor had brought and immediately spat it out on the floor.
“You dumbass, this chicken is so raw, you should send it to a vet. He might be able to save it!”
And that wasn’t all.
Professor Banshee continued to criticize the food that flew in afterward.
“I’m grateful that the empire has unified. If there were still many other countries on the continent, they would have invaded us just to destroy this pancake.”
“The beef should be placed separately from the salad. The beef is so damn undercooked that it still looks alive. It seems to be trying to eat the salad next to it.”
“What an excellent bagel. It’s hard and heavy, so you can smash the head of the enemy commander at any time. Oh, but where’s my food?”
“If I had to pick the most delicious thing on this table, I would choose this water without hesitation. Of course, even this water is dry and tough, unmatched in its badness.”
“These beans are so undercooked that if you plant them, you might be able to harvest them next year.”
“The pork isn’t cooked at all. Can’t you hear it? Peppa Pig is still oinking.”
Professor Banshee was famously fastidious about his taste.
His merciless food evaluations made the students working in the kitchen start to panic.
Dolores, who was experienced, stepped forward.
“If you’re going to make so many complaints, why did you bother visiting?”
“I didn’t want to visit either. But isn’t it customary among professors to visit the Cafe run by their assigned students during the festival to boost sales? So, I reluctantly came to this joke of a cafe.”
“Kids sitting idly, unhygenic, serving subpar ingredients, kids are kissing each other, and dishes soaked in artificial flavors. Yet, they don’t issue receipts, only accept cash, and there’s no possibility of tax deductions.”
Even Dolores had nothing to say to Professor Banshee’s criticism.
Professor Banshee looked down at the potato stir-fry and chicken dish with a disdainful gaze as he continued speaking.
“But if it had at least some taste, I wouldn’t be complaining like this. The most important thing is ‘taste,’ and without it, all these already unpleasant things stand out even more, don’t they? Nothing more to see. This snack will also probably taste like waste…”
However, Professor Banshee, who had taken a spoonful of chicken stew and potatoes, couldn’t finish his sentence.
Delicious.
It was delicious.
Undoubtedly delicious.
“…What is this? Why is it so delicious?”
The exquisite smokiness, the sophisticated richness of the bone broth seeping through the tearing chicken, the savory taste of mashed potatoes, and the piquant and salty flavors from an unknown red sauce.
“This… this taste is unmistakably familiar to me.”But that flavor could only be found in Empire’s capital’s 5-star restaurant. How can such taste be found at an academy festival’s cafe?”
Professor Banshee, after taking a few more spoonfuls of the chicken stew, raised his head.
“Who made this? Did you bring in a professional chef from outside?”
“I doubt it.”
Dolores also looked somewhat dazed. At that moment, Tudor, passing by, turned his head.
“Oh, did it suit your taste after all? We just changed the kitchen staff.”
“Changed the kitchen staff? To whom?”
“We decided to let one exceptionally skilled person take charge of the entire kitchen. There—”
As Tudor pointed with his finger, Professor Banshee and Dolores turned their heads. Beyond the kitchen counter, a face was visible, suppressing the flames with a large frying pan.
Sizzle…
A delicate nose, thick eyebrows on flawless white skin with eyes like a lake of blood.
A mysterious atmosphere surrounded the face of a female student in a black hat and cloak, skillfully stirring the wok, slightly frowning with beads of sweat on her forehead.
But the face drenched in the firelight was so enchanting.
Even Professor Banshee and Dolores, usually composed, wore astonished expressions.
“Did we have such a female student in our department?”
Even Professor Banshee, the renowned expert, was momentarily entranced by the surreal scene.
However, Tudor’s voice shattered the enchanting scene and continued.
“Professor, have you forgotten the tradition of our academy?”
“….?”
Professor Banshee, not understanding Tudor’s words, looked confused. Eventually, an exclamation point appeared above his head.
“….!”
Yes.
The academy had a long-standing tradition.
It was none other than cross dressing.
Turning males into females and females into males.
In other words, the enchanting witch in the kitchen was a male student dressed as a female.
And it was obvious who that male student was.
“Order! Three servings of Vikir Special Spicy Chicken Stew, two servings of Vikir Special Seafood Pancake, six servings of Vikir Special Sausage and Vegetable Stir-fry, five servings of Vikir Special Oxtail Fist Rice, and also Vikir Special—”
“Hey!? Look at this, guys! Another new menu is out! How did they make such a delicious snack with leftover ingredients? What’s the name of this? What? None? Just made with whatever was left? Well, then let’s quickly add it to the menu! It’s the 32nd special new menu release!”
“Ugh! Ever since we opened the kitchen’s curtain, male customers have been rushing in excessively! At this rate, it’s better to reveal that he’s a male!”
“Oh no!? Now female customers are rushing in! Get more queue numbers!”
“What!? The number of male customers hasn’t decreased at all!? It’s even increasing! How did this happen!?”
Handling the overflowing orders, the cook, who could hardly be believed to be a student, skillfully produced simple, practical, and delicious dishes. It was none other than Vikir.
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