It was summer.
The sun in Britain beat down mercilessly, and the rich scent of simmering beans hung heavily in Kay's cabin yard.
"Hah... is this right?"
A mountain of green peas was piled up in front of him.
He wasn't just any ordinary person. He was a man from the distant future, the 21st century. Rather than a reincarnated soul, it would be more accurate to call him someone reborn into this age and world.
Armed with his modern knowledge, he was trying to make soy sauce. The only problem was that he didn't actually know how to make it.
All he knew was roughly that you make it from beans and mold them into meju, so he was running through a series of trial and error.
"Soy sauce is made from beans. You soak meju made from beans in brine. Let it ferment. That's it."
That was the sum total of his knowledge.
Normally you'd use meju beans (soybeans), but there was no way such a thing existed in a remote British village. All he had were the peas growing like mad in his garden.
He didn't even know he was supposed to use soybeans in the first place.
"Peas are beans too, right? I mean, we have pea paste, so why not pea soy sauce?"
Kay boiled the peas in an iron cauldron and began mashing them.
Thud! The first pound sent peas flying; thud! the second sent sweat dripping.
He shaped the mashed peas into brick-like blocks and hung them under the eaves. It was, so to speak, pea meju. Surprisingly, while it wasn't the usual method, pea meju did actually exist. So it wasn't a completely misguided hack.
They looked plausible enough, but the smell was strange—neither like cheonggukjang nor like the raw smell of fresh beans, but something odd.
"How am I supposed to tell if this is fermenting or rotting...?"
Kay sighed as he looked at the green meju lumps tied with straw.
If he could just pull off soy sauce, it would be a culinary revolution. Instead of his siblings eating salted, roasted, boiled, or fried meat every day, he could cook them bulgogi and galbijjim.
Fueled by that one thought, Kay was engaged in a battle against mold.
"Oho, what sort of avant-garde art piece is this?"
At that moment, a familiar, irritating voice sounded behind his back.
In a white robe, the half-demon of dreams, Britain's greatest trickster: it was Merlin.
"...What. You here to pay for the kids' meals?"
Kay snapped at him, pestle in hand.
Merlin grinned slyly and poked at the pea meju.
"Pay for meals? As the king's tutor, I've come to begin my students' training. At five years old, their magical circuits and their knightly physique are due to be completed."
"Training? Just now?"
"That's right. Your work is done, Kay. Anyone can feed them and change their diapers. But only I can make a king."
Merlin's gaze turned icy for a moment. He tapped Kay on the shoulder.
"You've worked hard too, taking down bears with no magical power. Impressive."
"…So you'll teach me too? Swordplay, magecraft maybe?" Kay asked, a mix of hope and stubbornness.
But Merlin cut him off in an instant.
"No. It's a waste of time."
"…What?"
"You're mediocre, Kay. I can acknowledge your effort, but your capacity for talent is too limited. Look at Gawain over in Orkney. Compared to that child, the difference in strength is enormous. True power is something one is born with."
Merlin was mercilessly cold.
"They say a lazy genius can be beaten by effort. But a genius who puts in effort? They never lose. That's what Artoria are. There's no place for a mere mortal like you to intervene."
Kay clenched his fist so hard his nails dug into his palm. He couldn't argue back.
When he had gone through hell to kill bears, Artoria Lancer's Mana had increased merely from breathing.
When he went to skin a boar, Artoria Alter had pulverized it with a Mana discharge.
That was the gulf between them.
"…Fine. Understood. Then go ahead and take them and teach them properly."
Kay turned away and resumed pounding the pestle.
Thunk!Thunk!Thunk!
He poured his resentment into the rhythmic thuds.
Was he a failure as an elder brother? Had he become nothing more than the cook?
"Well then, carry on, nanny. The children are in their rooms, right?"
Hum humming a tune, Merlin strolled into the cabin.
Kay silently kept grinding the beans. His eyes stung, but he told himself it was just the pungent bean smell.
"Aaaah!!"
A shriek rang out from inside the cabin.
It wasn't the adorable voices of the children—it was Merlin's agonizing scream.
Kugugugung!
The cabin's roof trembled. A red lightning flashed through the window, and with a crashing sound, Merlin was flung out the door like a cannonball.
"Ke... keugh!"
Merlin landed face-first in the dirt yard.
He was a sight to behold. His white robe was scorched, one of his eyes was bruised and swollen, and his hair stuck up as if he'd been hit by a bomb.
"Wha- what was that? Did you run some sort of explosion test?"
When Kay asked in dumbfounded disbelief, Merlin pointed at the cabin with trembling hands.
"Th- those are… supposed to be five years old? This can't be…"
The cabin door opened, and the five-year-old kids walked out.
At the front stood Artoria X Alter. In her delicate little hand, she held a red lightsaber, and red lightning-like Force crackled around her like heat haze.
"Big brother, that conman is saying strange things."
"What did he say?"
"He says he'll take us away—leave you behind. And he says he'll feed us himself."
"I wouldn't mind the latter, though."
Artoria Alter, standing behind, cracked her knuckles as she chimed in—at five years old, it sounded like bones snapping.
"I was teaching him manners. How rude to meddle in someone else's family affairs upon first meeting."
Merlin cried out in protest.
"No! I only lifted my staff to teach some basic magecraft! And then X Alter suddenly Force-choked me, strangling my neck in mid-air! Then she shot red lightning from her fingertips!"
"The Force? What's that?"
Kay asked, wondering if he'd heard correctly.
"I don't know either! Some principle of the universe or whatever! It's the first time I've experienced anything like this since Caspalug!"
Merlin covered his swollen cheek. The world's strongest archmage had been gang-beaten by five-year-old kindergarteners and knocked out.
"Hey, Kay. What on earth did you feed those kids? Did you roast dragon hearts for them? How did five-year-olds break through an archmage's defenses?!"
Kay shrugged.
"Yesterday I made Royal Wyvern meat into hamburgers, the day before that Chimera filet steak, and the day before that fried Kraken leg… well, they did eat well."
"...Ha."
Merlin let out a hollow laugh.
Since he'd eaten the beasts of Britain into extinction, the kids' bodies had become abnormally strong.
The cooking of a mere talent had unleashed the geniuses' potential—or rather, evolved them.
"Heh heh heh... This is amusing. Very amusing."
Merlin staggered to his feet. Then he grinned at Kay.
"I take it back, Kay. You are not mediocre."
"Then what am I?"
"You're an excellent culinary cultivator. At this level, it's not talent, it's a miracle. To raise five-year-olds as such combat weapons... even Morgan would be appalled."
Merlin shook dust from his pocket.
"Reality is impossible. My body wouldn't last. Instruction will happen in dreams, using my Dream Demon expertise. Taking hits in reality hurts too much."
"Then what about childcare?"
"That's obviously your job! You're the only one who can handle these monsters! Good luck, great nanny!"
Bang!
Merlin vanished in a puff of smoke. He fled. He was terrified of the fists of his five-year-old students.
"...That damned conman. And he's not even female, so why call me a nanny?"
Kay clicked his tongue. But he didn't feel bad. A failed big brother? Not a chance.
The children chose Kay's tasty meals and rugged affection over Merlin's sweet offer.
Artoria X approached and grabbed Kay's sleeve.
"I'm hungry. Snack."
"...You just beat up Merlin, and now you're hungry?"
"That's not the same thing!"
Artoria Caster chimed in from behind.
Kay let out a chuckle, sweetened the boiled pea water with honey, and handed it over.
Then he grabbed his pestle again.
"All right, eat up and grow strong. I'll make soy sauce from these lousy peas and win over your taste buds, just wait."
Thunk!Thunk!Thunk!
The thuds resumed.
But unlike before, those thuds carried strength and resolve.
A mere ordinary talent raising geniuses? No—in the eyes of the geniuses, he was their one and only beloved big brother. And so ended Kay's afternoon.