Lord of Rot

"Who?" Leech turned to the old man. The name alone was enough for him to picture the fellow, but he didn’t understand why a man with such a description would be sought after by the pretty widow.

The hunched-over old man explained, "Old Gappy. He’s not young, but he’s strong as an ox when it comes to farming. His harvest is the best in the village every year. A lot of widows want to be with him."

Leech nodded. He understood what the woman meant. More than grain or money, she needed someone to rely on.

And this was only the third day after her husband Bird Shit’s death.

The ethics of this world were rather different from Leech’s, which made him lose all interest in his subsequent conversation with the pretty widow.

"I’ll have Pitchfork arrange it."

Pitchfork the manservant held many positions. Now, he could add "matchmaker" to the list.

Afterward, Leech rode to visit three other families. The deceased farmers had been the sole breadwinners of their households. Without exception, all their wives chose to remarry after their husbands’ deaths. And just like Bird Shit’s wife, another one of them also wanted to marry the one-eared Old Gappy.

’Judging by her expression, Old Gappy wasn’t just good at tilling the land; his ability to plow a different kind of field was likely just as strong.’

But Leech could only regretfully inform her that Old Gappy was already spoken for. As a lord, he couldn’t go back on his word. The woman, however, immediately proposed a second choice, causing Leech to swallow the offer of compensation he had been about to make. ’Remarrying is a good thing,’ he thought. ’The territory’s population is already small. More matchmaking and more children are the only way to grow.’

The horse ambled along the muddy road. The ruts left by the Golden Mule yesterday were still visible, only now they were accompanied by a few fresh footprints in the mud.

Heading southeast from the main part of the territory led to the sea and Pigtail Bay.

The environment here was a vast improvement over the village, as no one would bother coming this far just to relieve themselves. There was nothing but wild grass, ocean waves, sandy beaches, and... crabs scuttling sideways and seashells already baked to the point of decay on the sand.

Without a dock, Pigtail Bay was deserted.

Baron Lierde had once planned to build a dock here, but the exorbitant cost meant the project was ultimately abandoned.

Leech, however, recalled eating fresh oysters once before he’d arrived in Porcupine Territory. Freshly shucked oysters with a dash of sour vinegar, downed in one bite. They cost three copper stars apiece. The wealthy lords loved them, and they were rumored to make a man more... formidable in bed.

"Pitchfork, take a few men and gather some seafood."

’That’s lunch and dinner sorted.’

Holding a small knife, Pitchfork rolled up his sleeves and pant legs. Following Baron Leech’s directions, he wedged the blade into a crack in the reef and pried off an oyster that was nearly the same color as the stone.

"It’s huge!" he exclaimed, happily holding it up.

"Nicely done," Leech called out, nodding from a distance.

Praised by his lord, the manservant was filled with renewed vigor. He dove among the reefs, focusing intently on prying up more oysters.

The old man also arranged for some of the younger boys to help.

The waters of Pigtail Bay were deep. This would make it an excellent location for a dock, saving a lot of trouble for mooring ships, but it was by no means a good place for beachcombing. Deep water meant danger. There weren’t many accessible spots for gathering, but it was more than enough to supply Porcupine Castle.

The boys clumsily helped their lord gather seafood—fist-sized turban snails, fist-sized oysters, fist-sized stone crabs, fist-sized... well, everything was fist-sized. Before long, they had collected several buckets.

This wasn’t a safe place for foraging. A few times, the boys were nearly swept away by the waves, forcing Leech to order them not to get too close to the water. ’The youth are the future of this territory,’ he mused. ’As private property, they’re far more valuable than the old farmers.’

’There might be better things deeper in the water, but what we can get from the reefs on the shore is enough for now.’

"AH!" The boy with the garlic-shaped nose let out a pained scream. A crab had snagged his finger. Tears welled up in his eyes from the pain, and to make matters worse, his bucket tipped over. The crabs inside scrambled for freedom. Forgetting his throbbing finger, the boy lunged to grab them, but the result was predictable. He didn’t manage to catch a single one.

His companions laughed at the boy with the garlic nose, flaunting their own hauls. They were sure to earn their Lord’s praise.

Standing on a large rock, Leech took in the scene but said nothing. When the boys saw that their Lord didn’t reprimand them, their laughter grew louder. They were eager to distinguish themselves this way, and a silent competition began to unfold among them.

Leech turned his gaze toward the boundless sea.

The sea breeze blew in, moistening his cheeks.

"I wonder... is this world round?"

「Porcupine Castle.」

Upon his return, Baron Leech inspected the kitchen.

The kitchen utensils were pitifully scarce: just two knives, an axe, and a wooden board for chopping meat.

For cooking soups and stews, they used a tripod to suspend a pot over a wood fire.

To one side, there was a spit for roasting meat.

’To make decent food with just this equipment... my cook must have some incredible skills.’ He began to consider building a proper stove and teaching his cook how to stir-fry—truly stir-frying, not just roasting.

"You intend to eat these... sea spiders? May the Four Gods preserve us!" Barrel stared nervously at the stone crabs crawling around in the bucket, his chubby, carrot-like hands fidgeting.

The price of the boys’ silent competition was a massive haul—four large buckets brimming with seafood!

In East Port, and even as far as Iron Stone City, oysters were already a staple for the nobility. But in impoverished Pig Spine Valley, people had no idea these things from the sea were edible. Unless they were conscripted as soldiers or sold off as serfs, most would never have a chance to leave Pig Spine Valley in their lifetimes.

The spread of information was always slow. Only nobles could send messages by raven, and they certainly wouldn’t waste a bird on something as trivial as a seafood recipe. The daily gossip and affairs of the nobility were always the top priority.

"Tie their legs with grass," Leech said, bending down to pick up a crab.

"My Lord, be careful!" a manservant shouted. He’d been pinched himself while catching them earlier.

This was precisely why he was so horrified at the thought of eating these "biting sea spiders," as Leech had called them.

’Porcupine Territory has sheep, chickens, and sometimes even wild boar. Why on earth would we eat something so ugly and terrifying?’

But Leech wasn’t pinched. He swiftly picked up a crab, gripping it firmly from behind, just above its legs. The stone crab waved its terrifying pincers, but it was no threat to him. Its claws couldn’t reach the hand holding its shell. It looked pathetically clumsy, blowing bubbles from its mouth.

Pitchfork and Barrel watched Leech with admiration. The terrifying "sea spider" was like a helpless insect in his grasp.

"Tie up their legs," Leech said. "Otherwise, they’ll scuttle all over the place when you steam them."

"And another thing—if any of the crabs die before you cook them, throw them out immediately."

"Steaming... it’s like boiling, but over the water," Leech explained, gesturing to illustrate as he saw Barrel’s blank expression. Of course, he was only responsible for giving instructions; the actual work he left to his subordinates.

This included scrubbing them with a brush and getting the clams to spit out their sand. ’Poorly cleaned seafood is terrible to eat,’ Leech thought. He had no desire to be enjoying a delicious seafood meal only to CRUNCH down on a mouthful of grit.

’The clams can be used for soup. A stir-fry would be even better, but there aren’t any chili peppers here.’

As far as Leech could recall, the locals preferred salty and sweet foods. They rarely ate anything spicy. Garlic was one of the few pungent ingredients they were familiar with, and some even firmly believed it could cure any illness.

The oysters could be eaten raw, but Leech opted to have them steamed. ’Even if sea creatures have fewer parasites than land animals,’ he reasoned, ’it’s not a zero-percent chance.’

With all the instructions given, all he had to do was wait.

The kitchen was in an uproar, but the stubborn cook, Barrel, refused all offers of help. He was a cook who had been personally rewarded with a Silver Moon by the Lord. Accepting help would be an admission that his own skills were lacking. That Silver Moon might even be taken back, and he would not allow that to happen.