“You don't say.”
Elias casually responded to Old Ed's mockery in his mind, his hands tucked into his trench coat pockets.
“I really am a fake Hope County resident.”
He quickly rifled through the dusty archives of the original owner's memories.
“Like you said, our family are descendants of orthodox Norsemen.”
“We moved all the way down from Manchester in the north when I was a kid.”
“At most, we've only been rooted in Hope County for a few years.”
“I remember the Spark Festival in Manchester was completely different from here.”
Elias recalled scenes from the original owner's childhood.
“The Spark Festival there was primarily characterized by silence.”
“There weren't any gaudy decorations all over the streets, and certainly no inverted stars hanging everywhere.”
“So naturally, I don't feel much of a sense of belonging or interest in this festive, noisy Southern version of the Spark Festival.”
This was indeed the original owner's most genuine memory.
It also filled Elias, as a transmigrator, with a sense of wonder.
Based on the map's scale...
The entire landmass of the Continent of Velen wasn't much larger than a single province from his previous world.
Yet, in such a small area, the cultural divide between the North and South was as exaggerated as if they were separated by two hemispheres!
It was even more absurd than the “heretical” debate between sweet and salty tofu pudding!
While the two of them chatted idly in his mind...
Charlotte came skipping back from a street vendor ahead.
In this grey, somber city, her light, fluttering skirt was like a splash of bright color.
She held a steaming brown paper bag in her hand.
“Al!”
“Do you want some ash bread?”
She called out energetically, opening the paper bag and offering it to Elias like a treasure.
The moment the bag opened...
A blast of scalding steam, smelling of toasted coarse wheat and rich meat fat, hit him square in the face.
Elias's nostrils flared.
He quickly matched the food in his memory.
Ash bread.
This was originally a traditional food for Northern Norsemen to celebrate the Spark Festival.
The crust was deliberately baked to be coarse and hard.
Pitch black and covered in cracks, it looked exactly like a piece of charcoal fresh from the hearth.
When eating this thing, you couldn't even bite into it directly; you had to use a small wooden mallet to smash it open with force.
One could say it was quite hardcore.
But once that “charcoal” layer was cracked open, the inside was warm, soft dough mixed with plenty of minced meat and expensive spices.
Supposedly, in the faith of the Northern winters, this symbolized “the outer shell is dead in the freezing cold, but the interior preserves the warmth of life.”
It was all about that wasteland survival aesthetic.
However, with the roar of steam trains in the industrial age...
The exchange of populations between North and South had become increasingly frequent.
This hardcore food, which was originally only popular in the North, had gradually been brought to the streets of the South by Northerners fleeing hardship or doing business.
“Give me one.”
Elias reached out and fished a fist-sized piece of “charcoal” from the scorching paper bag.
In truth, he was also curious about the actual taste of this bread.
After all, in the original owner's memory, the last time he had eaten this was several years ago.
He held the bread in his palm.
He didn't bother looking for a small hammer to break the shell.
His fingers suddenly tightened.
With a slight application of force...
A sharp crack echoed.
The hard charcoal crust, reputed to be able to chip teeth, was instantly crushed, several deep cracks appearing under his hand.
Then, it shattered completely!
An incredibly rich aroma of minced meat, accompanied by scalding steam, burst out from the cracks.
It revealed the golden, soft, and chewy filling inside.
“Amazing!”
Seeing this, Charlotte's eyes sparkled, and she praised him sincerely.
“It seems working as a sailor and pulling ropes every day really has made you a lot stronger!”
“I was just thinking of going to the tool shop ahead to borrow a little hammer, but it looks like we don't need one at all!”
“You bet!”
Elias unceremoniously accepted the compliment, tilting his chin up arrogantly.
Of course...
Only he knew the truth.
This had absolutely nothing to do with any damn ropes!
It was purely the result of the potions.
He leaned down and took a large bite.
The moment the bread entered his mouth...
The intense flavor of toasted coarse wheat exploded in his mouth.
Not only that, the salty, savory taste of the hot minced meat and the exotic spices intertwined perfectly.
The crust was crispy and charred, while the interior was soft, chewy, and succulent.
This texture...
Elias's eyes widened instantly.
Isn't this just a meat-stuffed flatbread?!
“Delicious!”
He gave a muffled evaluation, wolfing down the remaining half in a few bites.
“I want some too! I want some too!”
Seeing her brother eating with such gusto, Charlotte's appetite was piqued.
She hurriedly pulled another piece of black bread from the paper bag and held it directly in front of Elias.
Her meaning was clear:
Human Nutcracker, hurry up and open it for me!
Elias smiled and took the bread.
He repeated the process, crushing the shell before handing it back to his sister.
Watching Charlotte hold the steaming bread and nibble on it happily by the roadside like a little hamster...
Elias suddenly felt himself relax.
A long-lost, incredibly pure sense of joy spread through his chest.
The siblings continued forward while eating.
When they passed a candy stall at a street corner, they picked up a few bags of “star candy” wrapped in oil paper.
They planned to bring them for Charlotte's friends, whom they were meeting at the parade tonight.
Of course...
The siblings didn't stay idle on the way, secretly opening a package and tossing a few pieces into their own mouths first.
As for this star candy, it was a purely Southern custom.
As soon as the candy touched the saliva on the tongue...
It immediately made tiny crackling popping sounds.
It danced wildly in the mouth.
The sensation was exactly like the popping candy from the modern world.
This unique texture was supposedly meant to mimic the intense feeling of sparks flying through the air when ancient people struck flint in the dark.
...
After walking for who knows how long, the siblings finally came to a halt.
They stood before their destination for the night.
“Snowy Owl's Howl?”
Elias looked up at the white owl on the tavern's sign, which looked like it was rolling its eyes.
The fire of mockery began to burn in his heart.
“I heard the owner here is also from Manchester.”
Charlotte swallowed the last bite of bread in her mouth and explained thoughtfully.
“They've recently introduced a new form of entertainment that's very popular with the young people in the West District.”
“They hire someone to imitate the wandering bards of old, playing the lute and singing in the tavern.”
“Oh?”
Elias raised an eyebrow.
This actually piqued a bit of his curiosity.
A live singer?
And in a retro style?
The two pushed open the double oak doors and stepped inside.
They were greeted by the warm scent of ale and tobacco.
At the same time, they heard the slow, low strumming of a lute from a small wooden stage not far ahead.
Then, a raspy voice began to echo slowly through the tavern.
“When the sun died at the edge of the ice fields,”
“The gods in the high heavens all tucked their hands into their sleeves.”
Rate on N.U.
