When Your Secret Crush Wizard Took a Love Potion - Chapter 60
Being a wizard didn’t mean having unlimited magical power. From birth, each individual had a limited amount of magical energy, and in situations where emergencies could arise, it was better to conserve it.
“It smells pretty good.”
Olio said, lifting his heavy backside off the rock where he had been lounging while others bustled around. His steps led him to the pot where the mercenaries were busy preparing the meal.
Although the only proper cooking tools were a pot and individual bowls, the process of adding thickly seasoned jerky and broth to the pot, letting it simmer, and then adding bread resulted in a stew that smelled quite appetizing and looked impressive.
“Aren’t you cooking a bit roughly?”
Olio noticed my gaze and pretended to clear his throat, subtly wiping his salivating mouth.
“Why go through all the trouble of cooking? We could just eat porrit biscuits.”
“You mean those tasteless things?”
At Olio’s innocent question, one of the mercenaries stuck out his tongue and pretended to choke, as if to dramatize the taste.
“Better to chew on soaked trash.”
In reality, while porrit biscuits were known for their small size and thin volume but significant satiety, making them popular among travelers and soldiers, they were infamous for their terrible taste. They were primarily used as emergency rations. There was even a joke that starving castaways would rather starve than eat porrit biscuits.
Moreover, most mercenaries had strong primal instincts and considered the satisfaction of basic desires—such as libido, appetite, and sleep—a crucial part of life. They fought with the goal of spending their hard-earned wages on alcohol and rich food, so it was hard to imagine them being content with porrit biscuits.
“Thank you for the meal.”
Despite the minimal ingredients, the stew prepared by the mercenaries was actually quite tasty.
It seemed like something the golem back home, currently guarding our cabin, could easily make with its clumsy hands. I made a mental note to ask about the cooking method later while I was scooping the stew.
As I sensed someone sitting next to me, I shifted back. Edgar, observing me from a distance, looked puzzled and asked.
“Chloe? Where are you going?”
How could I forget what he did to me earlier? Rather than honestly admitting I wanted to avoid sitting close to him, I subtly shifted to put some distance between us.
“Do you prefer a different seat?”
He was speaking with that same nonchalant tone after vividly describing the horse-riding position in an inappropriate way, shattering my faint memories. When Edgar inched closer and sat beside me again, I had no choice but to get up and move.
The thick, wide log that served as a seat was already occupied by others, making it so packed that there wasn’t even a small gap when I joined. Ignoring the situation and pretending to be engrossed in the stew, I noticed Edgar turning his head towards the person who was now sitting beside me.
“Move.”
His smile was bright, almost like he was shooing away an annoying insect from a fish head.
“W-What?”
The mercenary who had occupied the seat before I arrived looked bewildered. He had been watching our little drama with great interest.
“Did you claim this spot? Why should I move…?”
With all the good spots already taken, the only option left was to sit on the cold, hard ground. The defiant mercenary, upon meeting Edgar’s gaze, stiffly stood up like a frog encountering a snake.
Since witnessing Edgar’s overwhelming magical prowess firsthand when he split a boulder in two, most of the mercenaries had found him quite intimidating.
Edgar, ignoring the murmured comments of the mercenaries who likened our behavior to a pair of cockroaches, sat next to me with an air of calmness.
Why is it always my shame to bear?
“Come over here, Edgar.”
As soon as the meal ended, I grabbed Edgar’s wrist. The area near the dense thicket was quite far from the camp and shaded, making it a less visible spot.
Just as I was about to turn and unleash a torrent of complaints, a firm arm wrapped around me like a vine. The strength was so intense that the tip of my nose, pressed against his solid chest, felt numb.
“I’m so happy!”
Edgar, beaming with delight, pulled me into a tight embrace.
“I knew Chloe wanted to be alone with me, away from the distractions!”
It was a fresh realization, but Edgar’s thought process under the love potion’s influence was remarkably positive and self-centered.
I was left speechless.
