With nothing better to do, and the night beginning to grow dark, Lucas decided to grab a late dinner.
Arriving at the main kitchen in the Manor, the young boy found many people hard at work, chopping up vegetables, cooking pots of stew, baking bread, and even frying juicy chunks of at.
The mix of aromas and the large spread of items made Lucas’ stomach growl, reminding him of just how hungry he was.
Over the past few days, thanks in large part to Lucas himself, food had been strictly rationed.
Forget the wealthier, more privileged citizens of Redwood Town, even Celestina, a Marquess and General, had agreed to the controlled distribution of food because no one knew how long they needed supplies to last.
Of course, the soldiers who fought on the front lines got more food than others, but they were also risking their lives, so no one had raised any objections to this.
With the situation in the Great Western Forest being an evolving mystery, and all reports indicating that the living conditions in Herald City were quite poor, there was no guarantee that the foodstuffs which had been stockpiled would last until aid from the outside world could arrive if so restrictions on consumption weren’t put in place.
Now, however, with the evacuation of the town having been decided, many bulky or perishable foods were being cooked up and served in extrely generous portions, because most of it was going to be left behind anyways.
The increase in the amount and variety of food served also helped boost morale in Redwood Town, soothing the people’s spirits after having been constantly on edge since the explosion 4 days ago.
Grabbing a bowl, Lucas helped himself to a big ladle of soup before grabbing a piece of flatbread which had been baked earlier that evening. As he was about to head out into the dining hall though, the boy spotted two familiar heads of hair, one crimson-red, one lustrous-silver, sitting at a nearby table.
Freezing in place, Lucas recalled all the things he had said and done earlier today, especially with regards to the violent princess.
He had no idea whether Christina was still mad at him, or whether she would punch his face the mont she saw him; regardless, he didn’t want to take the risk, so he swiftly decided to make a strategic retreat and walked back the way he ca.
Fortunately, the girls seed to be imrsed in so kind of deep discussion, so they didn’t notice Lucas slinking away.
Pursing his lips, Lucas took a mont to consider his options before setting his bowl down and jogging over to where Grace and Helen were supervising the cooking efforts.
The two won seed much more at ease on kitchen duty than they were coordinating refugees, so once things had settled down a bit, Lucas had reassigned them to this role. Right now, these two, who usually helped the Town Lady out in the kitchen anyways, were the ones in charge of cooking up and distributing als to the refugees in and around the Manor.
"Aunty Helen, Sister Grace," Lucas called out to the two, drawing their attention.
Knocking the boy’s head lightly, Helen chided half-jokingly, "Call Sister, not Aunty."
"Lucas! What a surprise? Have you not eaten yet?" On the other hand, Grace, very much pleased with her ’Sister’ status, asked with a tired, but bright smile.
Rubbing his head, Lucas sheepishly replied, "Sorry, Elder Sister Helen. And no, Sister Grace, I’ve been busy working, so I haven’t had a chance to eat supper yet."
""That won’t do!"" The two won both said in unison before pushing him towards the already laid out food.
Before they could go far though, Lucas called out, "It’s alright! I’ve already gotten a serving for myself. It’s just..."
Lucas paused as he glanced towards the dining hall, trying to co up with an excuse for why he didn’t want to sit down and eat there.
Seeing the boy’s actions, the two kitchen helpers tilted their heads in confusion, wondering what Lucas was up to this ti. Naturally, neither of them had heard about Lucas’s scuffle with Christina earlier, so the thought that he might be trying to avoid the beautiful new girl in town never even entered their heads.
Darting his eyes around, Lucas soon noticed out a nearby window that storm clouds seed to be rolling in, covering up the last rays of the evening.
Thinking quick on his feet, the boy spoke up, "I know everyone is busy, but it’s getting dark, and it looks like its going to rain, so I was worried that my mom and dad also haven’t eaten a hot al yet."
With a pensive look, Helen muttered, "Hmm, I saw Anna grab sothing out of the kitchen a short while ago, though she ran off while chewing it, but I haven’t seen Drake yet tonight."
"En, neither," Grace chid in.
Latching onto their statents, Lucas mused, "Dad and the other craftsn at the smithy have all been working frantically since last night, so they probably haven’t even realized its dinner ti."
"That’s quite possible. Your father and all those other craftsn are the sa when it cos to their projects. They lose sight of everything around them and even forget to sleep or eat unless you force them too," Helen snorted, seemingly sowhat annoyed.
This was understandable for her, as her husband was a craftsman himself, though he was a woodworker so he wasn’t involved in the current harness project.
Lucas couldn’t stop himself from laughing when he heard Helen say this. It really was like his father to lose himself in his work, forcing his mother to smack him over the head with a wooden spoon and drag him back to the house to clean up, eat, and rest before he passed out.
It was always an amusing sight to see when that happened, though when Lucas recalled that his mom had been doing this to him as well with increasing frequency over the last year, he choked on his own laughter.
After coughing awkwardly, Lucas shook his head and proposed with a smile, "I didn’t specifically assign a food-wagon team to my ho, so there’s a good chance my dad and the other craftsn haven’t eaten yet. Could you help pack up so supper to take to them, please?"
Exchanging a glance, Helen and Grace both smiled before rubbing the young boy’s head fondly and nodded, "Sure, we’ll get everything ready. You go get a cart and bring it around to the back entrance."
Hurrying off, Lucas ran out to a ’parking lot’ he had set up, and grabbed a familiar cart.
It was Lucas’ old handcart that he used to wheel around town, carrying his barrels of lye before he had completed his soap recipe. He still used it every now and then, but honestly it was a bit too small now for his needs, so it had mostly been gathering dust for the past few months.
Thinking back on all the efforts he had gone through to finally create usable soap, Lucas chuckled to himself. After his breakthrough to the Second Step Sea Establishnt Realm, he had recalled why he knew how to make soap in the first place, despite it being a rather niche bit of information.
It turns out that the one who he inherited mories from had parents who ran so kind of handicraft store, and one of the products they made was ’old-fashioned’ soaps.
That was why the recipe was so easy for Lucas to recall.
Coupled with so of the other random knowledge he had inherited, Lucas had continuously tried to improve upon his soap making thod, but many of his ideas couldn’t be realized due to the limited supply of materials and equipnt available in Redwood Town.
Maybe I’ll have a chance to upgrade my soap when this whole ss is over, Lucas thought to himself. It was a prospect he was both looking forward to, and dreading all at once.
The young boy had always wanted to go out and see the wider world, even more so after his accident last year, but Lucas had wanted that to be on his terms, not because he was being forced from his ho by a disaster.
Shaking his head to clear these distracting thoughts, Lucas emptied out a few barrels and crates from the cart before wheeling it over to the kitchen’s back door.
Upon arriving, Lucas found Helen and Grave both waiting for him. eting their inquiring gazes, the young boy scratched his head and explained, "Sorry, I got distracted by sothing."
Frowning, the two won were curious about what exactly caught the young boy’s attention for so long, but they ultimately didn’t think it was a big deal, so they let the matter drop and began loading a few large pots and baskets into the cart, along with so wooden bowls and spoons.
While the al was being packed, Lucas also retrieved his own bowl he had scooped earlier and scarfed down several mouthfuls of soup before placing the rest atop a blanket which was covering his cart and wheeling the whole rig off.
Lucas’ ho was close-by, and the road wasn’t bad as this was the central part of Redwood Town, so it didn’t take long before he heard a hustle-and-bustle, together with constant sounds of hamring, coming from up ahead.
Wheeling his cart around his ho, Lucas was greeted by the sight of a few dozen n and won hurriedly moving back and forth, working on modifying giant harnesses with various tools of their trades. All of these craftsn had dark bags under their eyes, sweat dripping down their brows, and exhaustion apparent on their faces, but they continued to work with purpose, not pausing for even a mont to rest.
It was an encouraging scene that reminded Lucas that in tis of trouble, people were capable of pulling together to achieve things that would normally be considered impossible.
Shaking off his distracting thoughts, Lucas called out as loud as he could, "I’ve brought dinner for everyone!"
Only when the boy shouted did the busy craftsn notice his presence. Seeing Lucas whip off the blanket and open the various pots filled with different kinds of stew, porridge, roasted ats, and freshly ward bread, many of the tired workers began salivating.
None of them had eaten since morning, and they had all been labouring hard for many hours, so it was only natural for them to be famished.
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