How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending - Chapter 89.1
The greatness of potatoes did not end there. Their true value lay in their vitality, growing well even in harsh environments, and in their limitless reproductive potential. Sweet potatoes and corn were also excellent survival crops, but in terms of nutrition and cultivation, they could not compare to potatoes.
“There is a saying. Human history is divided into before and after the cultivation of potatoes… or rather, batatas.”
“Where did that saying come from?”
“It exists. I really heard it…”
Of course, there would be no such saying here. I decided to stop talking and simply observe my surroundings. Even Sir Johannes, the other knights, and even Constantine, who had been napping in the tents, were tilting their heads as they examined the baskets.
“Grand Duke! Do we have to eat what pigs eat now? I thought we were rich! I am the noble heir!”
The little one mumbled, not understanding what “noble heir” meant. Tristan tossed the mud-covered root the local man had handed him into the basket—it appeared to be corn—then without changing his expression, he rummaged through the basket. His long fingers slid from the potatoes toward the sweet potatoes.
“These look similar to batatas. Well, if you like them so much, take them all.”
“….”
His tone sounded as if he had seen every kind of strange appetite.
Sir Johannes glanced at the mud-covered corn in Tristan’s hand and appeared puzzled, unable to understand how anyone would eat it.
I shook my head and looked down at the basket again. This was an incredible harvest, yet I was the only one who understood its value. No one believed me. I felt frustrated.
❖ ❖ ❖
We decided to stay here for a while to recover our tired bodies and minds, and also to stock enough food and water. My personal goal, however, was slightly different. I wanted to explore this continent a little more thoroughly.
“There does not seem to be anything special here. It is not a developed land, so it is hardly suitable for trade.”
Tristan squatted near the campfire, looking down at me curiously. I replied while turning the potatoes skewered on a long stick over the fire.
“This is a land with batatas, sweet potatoes, and corn. Who knows what else might be here? If we are lucky, we might discover crops with commercial value.”
We had already purchased large quantities of crops from the locals and loaded them onto the fleet. Yet I could not shake the feeling that there was more to discover.
And my instincts proved correct. A few days later, the locals returned. Surprisingly, this time they brought someone who could speak a little Rubyere. They wanted to invite Tristan and me to join their evening meal.
We gladly accepted and joined them for dinner.
“This is remarkably tasty. Is it made with sugar?”
Tristan took a sip of the brown liquid in the cup and praised it.
“Perhaps expensive sugar is common here. Ruellin, it seems you were right. There may be crops with high commercial value.”
I widened my eyes and glanced around the table, calming my excitement enough to reply.
“No, this is not sugar.”
“Something sweet without sugar? How is that possible?”
“Yes. I heard of it once, through a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend…”
“Friend of a friend of a friend of a friend…”
Tristan looked momentarily speechless. I continued without hesitation.
“This is chocolate made from cacao. It seems cacao trees grow here.”
Hot chocolate. To taste hot chocolate here was an extraordinary opportunity. Who could resist the temptation? It could be sold at a price far higher than sugar, in bulk.
And it did not end there.
At that meal, I was served spicy food, something I had never tasted since entering this world, and even bitter coffee. I was so moved I felt tears welling up.
‘I suppose the Rubyere Empire people do not usually enjoy chili dishes…’
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