Revive Rome: Wait! Why not make the empress fall in love with me first? Chapter 329 - 329 127 Christmas Party

329: Chapter 127 Christmas Party 329: Chapter 127 Christmas Party The pressure in recent war developnts was becoming more intense.

The Wolf Family also seed to have a clear understanding: now that Franknia was fending off the Emperor’s northern alliance, and Bavaria was struggling alone in the south, if they didn’t seize the opportunity to strike, the Wolf Family would have no chance once the northern alliance broke through Franknia.

Hence, starting from the past few weeks, the enemy had been constantly reinforcing their troops in the trench warfare.

Alfred had no choice but to deploy his strongest asset—The Azure Longsword rcenary Corps—constantly into the dire situations to provide aid.

Under such high-pressure warti conditions, the girls also started to wear out, having to run between four or five locations each day and killing more people than butchers slaughters pigs, ntally feeling overwheld.

When ntally overwheld, errors in operations beca inevitable.

Mia got shot in the back, and the shrapnel embedded in her flesh left it indistinguishably mangled.

Thira also caught several stray bullets, unable to deflect with her swordsmanship in ti and seemingly hurting her bones, which forced her to temporarily withdraw from the battlefield and walk laly each day under Nora’s Healing.

This situation couldn’t continue, so Aske decided to give the team a few days of rest.

As a result, everyone requested leave from Alfred.

He was reluctant to agree, but it wasn’t up to him anymore; everyone just holed up and stopped going into battle.

Alfred visited the inn a few tis to rush them, but his expression grew increasingly desperate each ti he left.

With The Azure Longsword laying down their arms, the trenches beca untenable, and the situation fell apart like a house of cards, but these had temporarily nothing to do with the people in the city.

For Christmas was approaching.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” At the inn, Agrippina, who was invited again, sneered, “Poor little Enchanting Demon.”

The reason to call Agrippina was simple; during their last battle, dea’s shoulder was struck by her specifically concocted toxin, and Peggy and Nora had still not completely eradicated it—the notoriety of the “Flesh Toxin” was indeed well-founded.

Pressing on the exposed wound on dea’s shoulder, the bluish-purple in the flesh imdiately vanished without a trace.

Agrippina lifted her head arrogantly and said,

“It’s done.”

Truly worthy of a Demigod, everyone marveled.

“Little Peggy, how have you been lately?” The Demigod began to show concern for her disciple, “Have you mastered the Blood Transformation Skill I taught you last ti?”

“Master, I have mastered it.” Peggy nodded and stretched out her arm, fair as jade.

Then suddenly, her arm transford into corrupted blood, splattered on the ground, and then flowed back, climbing up her ankle, calf, and torso to reassemble into the shape of an arm on her shoulder.

“Very good.” Although Agrippina was usually volatile, she always held great affection for talented disciples; she instantly pulled Peggy aside to talk.

The remaining girls began decorating the inn, preparing to celebrate this year’s Christmas.

Initially, everyone had planned to spend it on Fire Island, but the inn’s guests proposed hosting a Christmas party in the inn, so everyone agreed.

Otherwise, if everyone else was celebrating in the hall and only the people from this room were “locked in,” it would seem very strange.

Tying up ribbons, hanging bells, one of the guests spent a lot of money and sohow sourced a log (allegedly smuggled by workers from outside the city) and fashioned it into the shape of a Christmas tree.

Others, too, generously contributed and bought plenty of food and beer.

The inn’s cook was gone, so naturally The Azure Longsword’s girls were asked to prepare the food for this Christmas party—presumably because it was thought that won’s cooking was more reliable.

It wasn’t.

“Ah, just leave it to ,” Nora volunteered bravely, “Cooking and bio experints should be similar.

I’m apparently the best cook here.”

She picked up a sliced pig’s knuckle and said,

“First, we need to wash off the blood on the surface.”

Eleanor boldly ca over to help, washing the knuckle, “Then what?”

“Then skewer it and put it in the oven to roast,” Nora said.

“That’ll make the at tasteless,” Aske interjected, “First, you should evenly rub spice wine and salt on the surface and marinate it for a while.”

The girls stared at him blankly.

“Then mix various spices evenly, coat them on the surface, make several deep cuts for better flavor absorption, and marinate it for a while longer,” Aske thought for a mont then added, “Since it is at, it’s not suitable to roast directly; you should first boil it to remove the blood, and then pass it through cold water.”

“Aske, you can actually cook!” Nora exclaid in surprise.

“The Squad Leader can cook!” Mia also shouted excitedly.

“All-capable Squad Leader,” Miel said.

“Excellent,” Thira praised.

“Marry.” dea bluntly stated.

“No way, can’t any of you cook?” Aske was the most shocked.

Thira, dea, Nora, and Eleanor—the group of four misses—need not be ntioned, delicate and unable to touch cold water with their fingers.

Aske enquired, and it turned out Peggy was a middle-class girl in high school, naturally not expected to cook, and Mia ate from the common pot with her guild.

Truthfully, only Sigrdrifa and Miel had so cooking experience.

“Then you two will be my assistants.” Aske took command of the girls once again, treating the kitchen like his new battlefield, “The rest of you, wash the vegetables who need to wash them and cut the at who need to cut them.

dea, go and heat the oil in the pan for .”

Soon the kitchen was busy.

Aske wasn’t really a professional chef, but back when he was a corporate slave before crossing over, he rented a place and often bought groceries to cook for himself in the evenings, gradually accumulating so culinary skills.

On Earth, his cooking skills were just about enough not to starve.

But here, dealing with a simple Christmas party during a war was well within his capabilities.

Alfred ca to visit again today, staring speechless at the beautiful Christmas tree outside the door.

Holy crap, I’m leading n out there fighting to death, and you rcenaries are celebrating Christmas in an inn?

Ah, what, you want the girls to wear red short Christmas skirts, shoulder by shoulder, and dance the bunny hop in front of you?

No way, absolutely not.

This fallen warti hedonism, I must go in and criticise harshly.

Alfred stord into the inn with a fierce montum, only to find out from the guests drinking and laughing next to him that The Azure Longsword folks were in the cellar.

Nice, actually doing such secretive activities in the cellar!

He rushed into the cellar impatiently, imdiately faced with a puff of food aroma and greasy smoke.

Hey, where are the pretty girls in Christmas skirts?

“What pretty girls!” dea dragged him impatiently, “Go help Aske stir-fry.”

“Stir-fry?” Alfred puzzled.

“It ans taking this spatula, continuously stirring in the pan, allowing the ingredients to heat evenly,” Aske pulled him next to the iron pot.

“This smoke is so strong!” Alfred complained, although his body cooperated.

Holding the spatula he thrust it into the pot, his stirring technique clearly adapted from his stabbing sword technique, “These kitchen tools are quite strange.”

“Made-to-order.” Aske finished cooking and had dea serve the food.

“The situation outside is not optimistic now.” Alfred murmured unclearly, chewing on a piece of honeyed sausage he picked up from a nearby plate.

“I knew it already,” Aske said, “Relying on the power of just Innsbruck to stop the Wolf Family’s army?

Impossible.

It’s already considered good that it’s lasted this long.”

“Ever since I t you guys, I’ve started to beco unlucky,” Alfred complained more openly after getting familiar with him, “Join the Crusaders as a leader, and the Crusaders ended; join Innsbruck as a Viscount, and Innsbruck is about to fall too.

You tell , where are you planning to go next?

I’d better avoid you ahead of ti.”

“After we finish the Wolf, the Emperor will surely lead an expedition against the Church Court,” Aske said, “As long as you stay within the Empire, do you think you can escape?”

“How about going to West Francia?” Alfred muttered, “The nobles there are a bit old-fashioned, but it’s not impossible to survive as long as you’re willing to play the ga.”

Aske chuckled lightly, not saying much.

Becoming a lord in West Francia wasn’t a bad idea; the land there was fertile, and the manor economy was quite developed, only the house always needed to have three colors of flags ready—red, white, and blue …

The food prepared by the group was simple.

Divine Luo cuisine, after all—pork knuckles, sausages, smoked ats, hams were the four major dishes; sauerkraut, potatoes, beans, cucumbers the four minor ones; then so bread, beer, and red cabbage soup made it complete.

Steaming dishes were served in the hall, imdiately earning unanimous praise from the guests.

Everyone enjoyed the feast, eating the at and soon starting to compete in drinking, creating a lively, noisy atmosphere that really felt like Christmas.

Aske, the main hero of the banquet, had no appetite after cooking and just boredly watched out the window.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Eleanor ca by with a beer.

“You guys eat,” Aske gazed outside.

Two more months and it would be Chinese New Year.

Of course, this world didn’t have the custom of celebrating the Chinese New Year.

However, he indeed had to spend his Chinese New Year and New Year alone in this world.

“Missing ho?” Eleanor paused, then asked.

“It’s snowing,” Aske said.

The snowflakes fell outside, turning into thin puddles on the stony ground.

Inside, the fire was blazing, warm as spring, as the guests raised their glasses in laughter, urging each other to drink without end.

An elderly woman in thin clothes passed by the inn, seemingly drawn by the boiling-like scene inside.

She stared intently, the fire reflecting a faint orange glow in her cloudy eyes.

Eleanor sighed, about to move, but then saw Nora already stepping out the door, holding a steaming bowl of red cabbage soup.

The old woman trembled as she drank the soup, the broth trickling down her wrinkled chin, while Nora diligently wiped her with a napkin.

“When will the war end?” Watching the scene outside, Eleanor stayed silent for a while before sighing and asking.

“Soon, I guess,” Aske pondered, “We should also start preparing.”