Savai Village
We spent the night in Tsen Town, the closest place to Ranan Village.
That evening, Brother Chris and I were having dinner together.
“When you actually visit the villages, you can really see how each one finds its own way to live and adapt.”
“Each village we’ve been to certainly had its own character. I wonder what the ones closer to town are like.”
“We can’t visit every single one… and considering what we’ve learned from these two, I’d say we’ve already gotten plenty.”
“Was there anything new to gain from Mars Village?”
“Your discovery of the river prawn farming method, of course.”
“So, another new kind of slime, huh.”
“Seems so. There must be all sorts of slimes suited to their own regions—just no one studying them yet.”
“I’m sure some eccentric will take an interest eventually. But I’d rather it not be our family making the announcement.”
“Agreed. That would only invite outsiders to meddle in our territory… What’s the matter, Hardt?”
Brother Chris noticed me staring thoughtfully at the piece of bread in my hand.
“Doesn’t this bread feel… chewy?”
“You’re right. It’s softer, yet it’s got a springy texture.”
“Yes, it’s soft but elastic—and delicious. Brother Chris…”
“I know what that look means. You want to find out more about the bread. But do it tomorrow—it’s late, and the inn staff are busy right now.”
He was right. As much as I wanted to ask right away, I decided to wait until morning.
The next morning, when breakfast was brought to us, I asked the server about the bread. She told me it was made with petit wheat mixed into the dough.
“Petit wheat?”
It was a variety of wheat grown only in Savai Village, near this town.
“Is this type of bread common here in town?”
“Depends on personal taste, but a lot of people like it,” she said.
I asked for a good bakery that used petit wheat, thanked her, and let her go.
“Brother Chris…”
“I get it—you want to visit the bakery and Savai Village.”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Savai Village is close to the town, so it won’t hurt to make a little detour.”
“Thank you!”
We left the inn and went straight to the bakery she’d mentioned.
The shelves were lined with freshly baked bread—all of it looked delicious.
I asked the woman arranging the loaves, “Which ones are made with petit wheat?”
She smiled and said that all of their bread used petit wheat.
“Well, then, one of each, please.”
Her eyes widened. Then she smiled warmly, stopped arranging the shelves, and began wrapping the bread.
It was a bit improper, but I couldn’t resist—so I asked for one of the walnut loaves right away, broke it in half, handed half to Brother Chris, and took a bite.
It was freshly baked, wonderfully chewy, and rich in flavor. You didn’t need butter or jam—it was delicious on its own.
Now I was really excited to visit the village that grew this grain.
After about half a day’s travel, we reached Savai Village.
The surroundings were full of wheat fields.
The village chief came out to greet us.
“I apologize for the sudden visit,” Brother Chris said, taking the lead in greeting him. “We had something we wanted to ask.”
“If it’s something I can answer, I’ll gladly help.”
“It’s about petit wheat.”
“Ah, petit wheat.”
Apparently, petit wheat only grew in the soil around this village. Attempts to cultivate it elsewhere had failed.
When we asked why they hadn’t exhibited anything at the fair, the chief said, “We didn’t have any new recipes to show. Dishes using petit wheat have been part of our local diet for generations.”
Ah, so the “new recipe only” rule backfired on them.
“Would it be possible to try some petit wheat dishes?”
“Of course. We’ll serve them for dinner.”
That evening, the meal included tomato risotto made with petit wheat, a hearty vegetable soup with petit wheat, petit wheat milk bread, and even a salad featuring petit wheat grains.
“They’re all delicious. I had no idea dishes like this existed,” Brother Chris said in surprise.
“It could even work as a rice substitute. The only issue is that it only grows in limited areas,” I said.
“True. I wonder what makes this soil special.”
“Why don’t we take a look at the fields tomorrow?”
The next morning, we asked to see the petit wheat fields. The chief explained that they plant it in autumn and harvest in spring.
Right now, they were using the land for pasture, growing grass and letting cattle graze there.
I asked if the soil didn’t get compacted from all the trampling. He explained that they mixed the grass, manure, and fertilizer into the soil and used earth magic to till it, so it stayed in good condition.
When we asked whether the failed attempts elsewhere had used the same soil conditions, he admitted he didn’t know.
“Chief, have you ever tried growing petit wheat outside the pasture areas?”
“Now that you mention it… I don’t think we have. Could that be the reason it doesn’t grow?”
“We won’t know until we test it. But that’ll have to wait until next season.”
“Not necessarily. This autumn, we’ll sow petit wheat in land mixed with pasture grass, manure, and other fertilizers. If it still doesn’t work, we’ll expand the pastures and try again next year.”
If they can increase production, I’ll definitely suggest opening a restaurant in the new city that serves petit wheat dishes.
What do you think about this chapter?
