It was summer.
The sun in Britain beat down mercilessly, and the rich, savory scent of simmering beans hung heavily in the yard of Kay’s cabin.
"Hah... is this really the right way?"
A mountain of green peas was piled high in front of him.
He wasn’t an ordinary man of this era. He was someone from the distant future, the 21st century. Rather than a simple transmigrator, it would be more accurate to say he was a soul reborn into this world and age.
Armed with his modern knowledge, he was attempting to create soy sauce. The only problem was that he didn't actually know the precise recipe.
He only vaguely remembered that it was made from beans and fermented into blocks called meju, so he was currently navigating a grueling process of trial and error.
"Soy sauce is made from beans. You make meju from the beans, soak it in brine, and let it ferment. Done."
That was the sum total of his knowledge.
Normally, one would use 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.
In truth, he didn't even realize that soybeans were the standard ingredient.
"Peas are beans too, so it should work. I mean, pea paste exists, so why wouldn't pea soy sauce?"
Kay boiled the peas in an iron cauldron and began mashing them.
With the first strike of the pestle, peas flew; with the second, sweat flew.
He shaped the mashed peas into brick-like blocks and hung them under the eaves. It was, so to speak, pea meju. Surprisingly, while unconventional, pea meju did actually exist in some cultures. It wasn't a completely baseless hack.
They looked plausible enough, but the smell was peculiar—neither like fermented soybean paste nor the raw scent of fresh beans, but something entirely odd.
"I wonder if I'll even be able to tell if this is fermenting or just rotting..."
Kay sighed as he gazed at the green lumps of meju tied with straw.
If he could just succeed with the soy sauce, it would be a culinary revolution. Instead of his siblings eating the same salted, roasted, boiled, or fried meats every day, he could prepare dishes like bulgogi and braised short ribs.
Driven by that single ambition, Kay waged a lonely war against mold.
"Oho, what sort of avant-garde art piece is this?"
At that moment, a familiar and irritating voice drifted from behind him.
Clad in a white robe, the half-incubus and Britain’s greatest trickster: it was Merlin.
"...What now? You here to pay for the kids' meals?"
Kay snapped, still clutching his pestle.
Merlin grinned slyly and poked at the pea meju.
"Pay for meals? As the King's tutor, I have come to begin the children's education. At five years old, their magic circuits and knightly physiques should be reaching completion."
"Education? You're starting *now*?"
"Indeed. Your part is finished, Kay. Anyone can feed children and change their diapers. But only I can forge a King."
Merlin’s gaze turned icy for a fleeting moment. He tapped Kay lightly on the shoulder.
"You've put in quite an effort yourself—hunting bears with a body devoid of mana. How commendable."
"...Then will you teach me too? Swordplay, or maybe magecraft?" Kay asked, a mixture of hope and defiance.
Merlin dismissed him instantly.
"No. It would be a waste of time."
"...What?"
"You are mediocre, Kay. I acknowledge your hard work, but your vessel for talent is simply too small. Look at Gawain in Orkney; the gap in raw power between you and that child is an abyss. Strength is something one is born with."
Merlin was cruelly blunt.
"They say a hardworking ordinary man can beat a lazy genius. But a genius who actually puts in the effort? They are invincible. The Artorias are such beings. There is no place for a commoner like you in their world."
Kay clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. He couldn't argue.
While he had been breaking his back to hunt bears, Artoria Lancer’s mana increased just by breathing.
While he was struggling to skin a wild boar, Artoria Alter had simply pulverized the beast with a burst of mana.
That was the difference in their essence.
"...Fine. I get it. Just take them and teach them well."
Kay turned away and resumed his pounding.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He poured all his frustration into the sound of the pestle.
Am I a failure as a brother? Was I nothing more than a glorified maid to them?
"Well then, keep at it, nanny. The children are in their rooms, I assume?"
Humming a tune, Merlin strolled into the cabin.
Kay continued to grind the beans in silence. His eyes stung, but he told himself it was merely the pungent smell of the beans.
"AAAAAAAGH!!"
A scream erupted from inside the cabin.
It wasn't the cute voice of a child; it was Merlin’s desperate shriek of agony.
Rumble!
The roof of the cabin shuddered. Red lightning flashed through the windows, and with a violent crash, Merlin was launched out the door like a cannonball.
"Ke... kegh!"
Merlin slammed face-first into the dirt yard.
He was a pathetic sight. His white robe was scorched, one eye was swollen shut like a bruised plum, and his hair stood on end as if he'd been hit by an electrical surge.
"What... what happened? Did you conduct an explosion experiment in there?"
As Kay asked in bewilderment, Merlin pointed toward the cabin with a trembling hand.
"Th-those... are actually five years old? This is impossible..."
The cabin door opened, and the five-year-old children stepped out.
Leading the group was Artoria X Alter. In her tiny, delicate hand, she held a red lightsaber, and red lightning—the Force—shimmered around her like a heat haze.
"Big brother, that conman is saying strange things."
"What did he say?"
"He said he'd take us away. He said he'd leave you behind and provide our meals himself."
"I wouldn't mind the latter part, personally."
Artoria Alter, standing behind her, added with a crack of her knuckles. Despite being five, the sound of her joints popping was unnervingly loud.
"So I gave him a little taste of reality. How dare he ignore our source of food... I mean, our brother? I can tell just by instinct that the food he makes would taste terrible."
Artoria Lancer smiled coldly, elegantly yet menacingly twirling the child-sized spear that Ector had made for her.
"I simply taught him some manners. It is quite rude to interfere in a family's private affairs upon a first meeting."
Merlin wailed in indignation.
"No! I just picked up my staff to teach them the basics of magecraft! Suddenly, X Alter used some 'Force Choke' and strangled me in mid-air! Then she fired red lightning from her fingertips!"
"The Force? What's that?"
Kay asked, wondering if he was hearing things.
"I don't know! Something about the principles of the universe! This is the first time I've experienced something like this since Caspalug!"
Merlin clutched his swollen cheek. A grand magus, one of the strongest in the world, had been gang-beaten into submission by a group of five-year-old kindergarteners.
"Kay, what on earth have you been feeding these children? Did you grill dragon hearts for them? How can five-year-olds break through a grand magus's defenses?!"
Kay shrugged.
"Yesterday was Royal Wyvern hamburgers, the day before was Chimera tenderloin steak, and before that, fried Kraken legs... well, they did have a healthy appetite."
"...Ha."
Merlin let out a hollow laugh.
Because Kay had been feeding them magical beasts with a fervor that threatened to drive the creatures of Britain to extinction, the children's bodies had become unnaturally robust.
The cooking of a "mediocre" man had triggered an explosion of potential in these geniuses. No, it had gone beyond an explosion—it was evolution.
"Hehehe... interesting. Very interesting."
Merlin staggered to his feet and grinned at Kay.
"I take it back, Kay. You aren't mediocre."
"Then what am I?"
"You are a magnificent culinary cultivator. This isn't just talent; it's a miracle. To raise five-year-olds into such combat weapons... even Morgan would be appalled."
Merlin brushed the dust off his robes.
"In-person education is out of the question. I don't think my body would survive it. I'll conduct their lessons in their dreams, utilizing my specialties as a Dream Demon. Getting hit in reality hurts far too much."
"And the childcare?"
"That is, of course, your responsibility! You're the only one who can handle these monsters! Good luck, oh great nanny!"
Poof!
Merlin vanished in a cloud of smoke. He had fled, terrified of the fists of his five-year-old pupils.
"...That damn conman. And I'm not even a woman, so why does he keep calling me a nanny?"
Kay clicked his tongue, but he wasn't actually upset. A failure as a brother? Far from it.
The children had chosen Kay's delicious meals and rough affection over Merlin's sweet promises.
"Big brother."
Artoria X approached and tugged on Kay's sleeve.
"I'm hungry. Snack time."
"...You just beat up Merlin, and you're already hungry?"
"That's completely different!"
Artoria Caster chimed in from behind.
Kay chuckled, mixed some honey into the boiled pea water, and handed it to them.
Then, he gripped his pestle once more.
"Alright, eat up and grow big. I'll make sure to turn these lousy peas into soy sauce and capture your taste buds once and for all."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sound of the pounding resumed.
But unlike before, the rhythm was now filled with strength and conviction.
A mediocre man raising geniuses? No—the only brother loved by geniuses. Kay's afternoon faded away in just such a manner.
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