Chapter 23: Don’t Think Too Deeply  

Moments later, in the mansion’s dining room, Eze stared at the thing on his plate, fork and knife in hand.  

“What… is this?”  

“Steak,” Velrian answered from across the table.  

Palm-sized, dark brown, with a rich meaty aroma, flecks of red, and garnished with sauce—it did look like steak.  

“Miss Velrian, is your witches’ definition of ‘steak’ different from humans’?”  

“How could it be? What’s different about steak?”  

“Everything! For starters, human steak doesn’t move!”  

As Eze pointed out, the steak-like object was wriggling, occasionally making slimy, slime-like noises.  

No matter how you looked at it, it wasn’t edible.  

Velrian, unbothered, calmly cut a piece and ate it.  

“Don’t worry, it tastes fine.”  

“It’s not about the taste! How did you even make this!?”  

“Well…”  

Velrian explained:  

“The maids handling chores here were made with my golem-crafting skills, as you know.  

Golems lack advanced intelligence. For complex tasks, they connect to the controller’s consciousness to access relevant knowledge.”  

In other words, Velrian’s quirks translated directly to the maids’ work.  

But that didn’t address Eze’s biggest question.  

He jabbed his fork into the writhing thing to stop it from escaping the plate, triggering a pig-like squeal that echoed through the dining room.  

Unbelievable.  

“…So why is it like this?”  

“Uh, because my magic is strong and leaks uncontrollably.”  

“Normally, it’s fine, but when I make something with intent, the magic seeps in, and… I didn’t expect cooking with golems would cause this.”  

Incidentally, witches craft golems by infusing magic and intent into materials like stone or earth—exactly how this thing was made.  

So, this wasn’t steak—it was a steak-shaped golem!  

“…Hm?”  

Normal golems, made for combat, fight. So this thing—  

Realizing something, Eze tried to fling it away, but it was too late.  

The “steak” thrashed violently, shook off his fork, and leapt straight into his mouth, trying to force its way in.  

“Mmph—cough, cough—cough!”  

The large, hot, hard thing shoving itself in was no fun. The scalding heat and choking sensation made Eze’s eyes roll back.  

After an undignified struggle, he yanked it out, threw it to the floor, and smashed it with a chair.  

Amid a scream like a murder, the thing finally stopped moving.  

Velrian shook her head:  

“Such a waste. Eat it normally, and it’s just like regular steak. It only ‘feeds’ itself if you don’t take a bite.”  

Still recovering, Eze clutched his throat, gagging.  

“Cough—ptui—this is ‘feeding’? This is practically—”  

“Practically?”  

“Nothing!”  

But, per Velrian, all the maid golems in the mansion were constantly linked to her consciousness.  

So why add that function to them?  

“…This was getting dangerous to think about. Eze decided to drop it.”  

Rubbing his still-burning throat, he stood and sighed.  

“Where’s the kitchen? Let me borrow it—I’ll cook for myself.”  

Led by a maid, Eze entered the kitchen, tied on an apron, and started rummaging through ingredients, planning to whip up a simple stir-fry.  

Velrian, abandoning her lunch, followed curiously and watched from the side:  

“You can cook?”  

“Yeah. When the team was new, without knights, we did everything ourselves. I handled the grunt work back then.”  

He was merely competent, far from a professional chef.  

As the team grew and tasks piled up, even Eze, workhorse that he was, couldn’t manage 30-hour days, so he delegated the chores.  

Velrian nodded slightly, then asked cautiously:  

“Eze, what do you really think of your old team?”  

Eze paused mid-stir-fry, the sizzling oil and rising steam filling the silence as he stopped.  

“That’s not something I can sum up in one sentence.”  

As he spoke, the chopped ingredients tumbled in the pan again.  

“My original world had no magic, no demons, and fighting wasn’t about swinging swords. Of all the heroes, I was probably the least suited for this world.  

My hero’s blessing was a blank slate. Back then, I really didn’t know what to do. At one point, I even thought about giving up and dying.”  

Velrian nodded.  

“And then?”  

“Then…”  

A wry smile crossed Eze’s face.  

“Without a blessing’s power, I’d start from scratch, learning swordsmanship. If my combat wasn’t hero-level, I’d work on other areas—that’s what Liya told me back then.”  

Two years ago, the team, including Liya, had a very different vibe.  

When and why did it change?  

He couldn’t figure it out.  

“As for Heidi… uh, the one you met at the café, she’s technically my fiancée. It’s documented.”  

“Hm…”  

Velrian nodded quietly, her gaze dipping slightly.  

Eze didn’t notice, continuing casually:  

“But honestly, neither of us took the engagement seriously.”  

“Huh?”  

“Well, ‘not seriously’ isn’t quite right. It was useful for intimidating nobles, but the engagement itself was never genuine.”  

Velrian’s eyes widened in surprise.  

“So… you don’t like her?”  

“Not in a romantic way.”  

Eze shrugged, adding:  

“Same for Heidi, I’d guess. No real feelings either way—she just kept it up because the engagement benefited her.”  

This was beyond Velrian’s understanding.  

She’d assumed Eze was clueless, manipulated by Heidi’s sweet talk into staying on a team that mistreated him.  

But he knew everything?  

“What, you thought I didn’t see through her?”  

Catching Velrian’s thoughts, Eze turned, asking helplessly:  

“Think about it. I could handle nobles Heidi couldn’t—how would I miss her little schemes and tricks?”