30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 54

Ssssh, ssssh.

"Done! It's spotless!"

A pure and innocent maid, with brown hair neatly braided and dressed in an elegant maid’s uniform, smiled brightly as she admired the now spotless house.

She had worked hard enough for the floors to practically squeak with cleanliness, and her mood seemed just as refreshed.

Though she was known for tripping and making all sorts of mistakes, Leila Winter was a maid who took pride in her diligent work.

...The problem was that her inability to understand certain subtleties often left people exasperated.

However, no insult or harsh word ever managed to get through to Leila.

Her mind was always in a "flower field," meaning she didn’t even realize when she was being scolded and, more often than not, interpreted things positively.

In some ways, her mental resilience was probably stronger than that of most mercenaries or knights.

"Maid!"

"Miss Irene, you're here!"

"Please, just call me Irene."

"Hehe, this is more comfortable for me. Just wait a bit, and we’ll have lunch soon!"

"Ah, okay."

Though it was a holiday, Irene Windler had visited the knight’s cabin early in the morning.

But at this point, it was almost routine for the young lady to visit the cabin.

During her lessons with Leila, where she was learning royal etiquette like the courtesy of a curtsy, the two had naturally become accustomed to eating together as well.

It had become so natural to Irene that she didn’t think twice about it.

‘Ah, this is comfortable...’

[Arin, isn’t this a little shameless of you? Eating for free, every morning and evening. I didn’t raise you like this.]

‘W-what do you mean, raise me! And I don’t eat for free. I bring gifts sometimes, don’t I? That should count for something.’

[All of those gifts are from the Duke, not from you.]

‘.......’

[You shouldn’t pass off gifts from others as your own.]

‘...You evil ghost.’

With facts like that, it was almost devilish how she struck where it hurt most.

However, neither Leila nor the cabin’s owner cared enough to point out Irene’s lack of propriety.

In fact, considering the high-end gifts she occasionally brought, which were the kind only dealt with in the royal family, they considered the meals a small price to pay.

Not that either of them cared much for those material benefits anyway.

"By the way, where is the instructor...?"

Boom!

"Ah, there he is."

The moment she thought to search for him, she sensed his presence.

The sound of air being torn apart came from the backyard.

Click.

Irene stepped through the back door and, as usual, saw the knight training tirelessly.

Boom!

"He's practicing something interesting again today."

[That’s not telekinesis, is it?]

"Is that what they call the 'Hundred Steps Divine Fist'?"

[The names of these techniques always sound strange.]

"Yeah, it looks kind of like Chinese characters... maybe?"

Though she had a soul from another world, Irene Windler was just a girl who had never read a wuxia novel, watched an anime, or seen a martial arts movie.

All she could do was marvel at his techniques, not realizing that someone from the same world stood right in front of her.

Wooden logs had been set up like dominoes.

There were thirty logs in total, each spaced about 20 cm apart.

Ihan was standing before them.

"Number 7."

Boom!

"Number 11."

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"Number 9."

Slash!

"...It worked."

Ihan smiled, pleased.

After trying from 7 a.m. to noon, he had finally succeeded once.

But for Ihan, that single success was what mattered most.

Gyeoksantau (격산타우) — a technique where one could strike a distant opponent without physical contact, the principle of which Ihan had applied the day before with his Hundred Steps Divine Fist.

Now, however, he was working on channeling this same power through his sword.

And today, at last, he had succeeded in embedding sword energy into the technique.

As proof, the ninth log had a clear slash mark on it, while the others merely showed signs of impact.

The energy from the sword had transferred.

The sensation of successfully executing the technique brought Ihan immense satisfaction.

‘The important thing is that it worked.’

This was always how it went when Ihan mastered a new skill.

He would keep trying until it worked, repeating the process countless times in a single day, regardless of time limits.

Even though the success rate was under 10%, the skills he had acquired in this way were what made him who he was now.

That was why Ihan was genuinely happy.

The joy of manifesting a skill he had once only imagined.

‘The next goal is Unryong Daepalsik.’ (운룡대팔식)

If he could change direction eight times in mid-air, it might even work against Baltar.

At that moment—

Step, step.

"You're practicing some weird technique again, I see."

"You're here?"

Ihan wasn’t surprised by the sudden arrival of a third party.

After all, it was a familiar face.

And it was...

"Have you eaten lunch? I baked a pie."

"Oh."

It was Jake Farman.

The only knight Ihan considered both a colleague and a friend.

Crunch!

The crispy, fragrant apple pie crumbled with a satisfying crunch in Ihan's mouth.

The balance of flavors was perfect, with just the right level of crispiness throughout. It was superb.

Not to mention, the fresh texture of the apple filling was astonishingly good.

The filling wasn’t jam-like but had a fresh, light flavor, with a delicate hint of cinnamon and ginger that made it truly outstanding.

It was a masterpiece, worthy of nothing less than high praise.

Even though Ihan had already finished five meat pies and seven apple pies after the meal Leila had prepared, he continued to eat, clearly still hungry.

“You should quit your job and open a pie shop. You’re wasting your talent.”

“Is that something you say to a knight?”

“Well, you shouldn’t be this good at cooking. Why are you so skilled at it, nobleman?”

“Because I’m a fallen noble.”

“Right. If all fallen nobles were this good at cooking, they’d all become chefs.”

“...I just wanted to feed my younger siblings well. The skill came with time.”

“...What a story.”

Ihan shook his head in disbelief.

The meat pies and apple pies—the perfect combinations in front of him—had all been made by this very knight.

Being a fallen noble, Jake Farman had grown up without servants, which meant he had learned to cook for himself.

And it showed.

Jake’s culinary skills were remarkable.

Better than anything you’d find in most restaurants, and even Ihan—who had a refined palate—considered these pies among the best.