Chapter 146: Spark of Fire Inspiration

"So this is the place drawn on the gold coin?" Kup asked, somewhat uncertain. He only remembered the gold coin being mentioned once, and it was difficult to connect that somewhat abstract pattern to the complex fortress they were in.

"Yes, and I recall you asked once yesterday already." Kraft answered while lifting a wooden tube scroll-like object onto the table; this was what Wilbert had worked hard on all night and handed to him, delivered simultaneously with two kitchen menus and a list of audience attendees, "Random spot check, how do you spell 'castle'?"

"Ah?"

Completely unprepared, Kup was caught off guard. Since leaving Comfort Harbor, Kraft's strictness regarding studies had become increasingly unbearable, and spot checks were everywhere; who could have expected that just opening his mouth would trigger an ambush.

Meanwhile, Yin Feng, who seemed not to notice them and had been reading silently with her head down, quickly looked up and raised her hand to catch Kraft's attention.

However, she was probably not fully prepared yet; she stuttered to piece together the spelling and even missed a letter. Prompted by Kup, she answered with the correct answer later.

"Could be more detailed, but still quite good." Kraft thought for a moment, just as he was about to clear the table, so he handed the fruit plate to Yin Feng, "Winner takes all; today's fruit belongs to you."

The small victory gave her considerable encouragement; she happily accepted the plate, revealing a rare smile harder to catch than the sweetness of wild blueberries, took a ripe orange, and returned the plate to Kraft.

It was rare; the last time Kraft saw Yin Feng show clear happy emotions seemed to be when she was playing with the rusty dagger she hadn't thrown away yet. As a self-appointed half-guardian, he always felt this child was good in every way—ambitious, sensible—just a bit... introverted.

According to someone's barely remaining educational knowledge, guidance for children's psychology should focus on affirming correct behavior and positive reinforcement.

Amidst Kup's confusion questioning the fairness and legitimacy of the competition, Kraft shot him a look saying, "Do you really dare to compare yourself with a child?" then pulled out one end of the scroll and handed it to him, "Help me hold that side, thanks. This thing seems quite big; what exactly is it?"

The wooden axis rolled open on the table, revealing its contents: roughly an elongated drawing centered around a blue line.

The title at the very top revealed its identity—Map of the Westmin Region.

This left Kraft somewhat puzzled. There was a black line consistent with the ink on other papers, starting from the middle fortress pattern, circling half the map, passing through a string of marked points with or without names, and then looping back to the fortress.

"What does this mean again?" Kraft flipped through the list and menus, finally finding the source on the last sheet, which listed over a dozen place names and notes.

Seems like a travel route?

The notes mentioned that the Duke did not reside in the castle year-round; by custom, he would inspect his direct territories and take the opportunity to spend some leisure time in the countryside.

This directly declared Kraft's plan to trace the environment bankrupt; during the three-month period from winter to early spring, the patient was running all over the territory. Tuberculosis did not stop him from traveling by carriage from one settlement to another; the farthest trip even reached the logging manor on the edge of the forest.

Given the current progress, although the Duke had lasted so long and wouldn't die within a month or so, even if Kraft were given wings, it wouldn't be enough for him to fly over this entire line.

"Sigh." He let out a helpless sigh and opened the Duke's menu, skimming through it roughly.

The overlap with banquets was quite high; it was just that as daily meals, the variety per meal was reduced, but overall the richness increased.

Among the meat birds alone were golden pheasants, water ducks, sparrows, swans, and even peacocks. The last two items were specifically noted to be served only at small gatherings. Fish generally appeared on the table as side dishes or accompaniments, except for one grilled dolphin that challenged the imagination, which was a main course on one occasion.

As for beasts, besides the common pigs and cows, there was rabbit meat, bear meat, horse meat, etc. The choice of cuts showed a high degree of openness: legs, spines, heads, tails, hearts, livers, and even another tail; nothing was excluded.

Regarding vegetables, thanks to the local natural environment, they also occupied a substantial portion; adding fruit to boiled or roasted meats to cut the grease was simply a daily occurrence, and there was even apple meat soup, a dish that struck a blow to the souls of otherworlders. In comparison, cooking involving various fungi was much more normal; even the sweet mushroom pie was acceptable, and raw sliced white-bellied mushrooms dipped in sauce were just right.

In a reading experience like a brain upgrade, consciousness drifted over one absurd dish after another, gradually giving up on understanding.

However, this explained very well why the Duke still had the ability to roam around before; with such an appetite and a diet rich in protein, enduring tuberculosis was no accident, and surviving bloodletting was certainly no fluke. Had it not been for the new change in his condition, his overall state would have been very suitable for treatment.

Chaotic and hard-to-imagine recipes intertwined in his consciousness. From a standard perspective, the number of dangerous factors was countless, especially the meat from many mixed sources, yet none matched the existing clues.

Vast amounts of complex information were scattered into his mind, like particles undergoing Brownian motion, darting wildly through his thoughts, colliding or brushing past each other at random, forming effective or ineffective combinations.

They collided with those orderly specialized knowledge systems and accompanied the alien lesions seen by his spiritual senses.

It was unknown whether these contents were driven by himself or had broken free from control to roam outside the frameworks of thought, creating some content inaccessible to consciousness, which was then fed back to himself in some form of revelation. Something like intuition guided him, excavating from it...

【Inspiration】

Kraft inexplicably felt that there was a direction in his hand; this ball of yarn contained the thread he wanted, but he couldn't find it for the moment.

For this, he needed more information to bring more revelations; those pieces of information might be right below, as long as he took the next step down...

"Dong dong dong!"

The knocking sound interrupted his thoughts; Martin's voice came from outside the door, "Professor Kraft, good day."

"I apologize for the intrusion. I know everyone is busy with the matter of my lord the Duke, but I feel this news... hmm?"

The Duke's knight pushed open the door and found Kraft leaning over several sheets of paper in silence, while the two attendants: one was leaning against the table edge, almost asleep, and the other was quietly flipping through a small booklet; it seemed they had been maintaining their respective states for quite a while.

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"Oh, Knight Martin, please speak." Kraft swept aside the pages he had already recorded, sat back in his chair with a somewhat dazed expression; all this fit Martin's impression of those academy folks who often immersed themselves in their own worlds.

"If you have no necessary activities recently, it is best not to leave Westmin Castle." He was still wearing yesterday's armor but had changed into a surcoat, with a war helmet featuring blue-dyed feathers tucked under his arm.

"What's wrong?"

"We went to that servant's residence; the neighbors said he has been showing particular interest in the Church's ways recently, often going out to participate in gatherings and prayers and such." Martin looked seriously at Kraft, who immediately understood his meaning.

His not-yet-cooled mind started running again, putting more weight into the new information; he seized upon a factor that seemed unrelated.

"Martin, when exactly did that heresy you mentioned, which has been active in the Special Sensitivity Zone recently, start its activities?"

It was indeed some kind of revelation, but intuition was still whispering; this was not the initial "Inspiration."