A/N: Here's the new Chapter! Which also means the next four chapters are up on my Patreon for early access as well as the chance to vote on the direction of the story!

Shirou's dish requires a little... tweaking~

-x-X-x-

Truth be told, he’d already made his choice the moment he’d seen what he could scrounge up from the burnt out husk that was La Charite. Some options, like a casserole, were flat out. Possible? Sure. But to make a good one in only thirty minutes? Not so much.

On the other hand, some options almost seemed all too obvious. Sandwiches, for instance, would be easy enough to construct and Shirou had a couple of techniques that would bring out the flavors in the scant ingredients he’d been able to find. However, the problem with a sandwich was that it was TOO obvious. Not only that… it was simply too pedestrian for a cooking contest.

It was also impossible to make a sandwich big enough for all of their judges to take a bite from with the ingredients on hand, but also all but impossible to guarantee the identical quality if he instead made multiple sandwiches for everyone to have one.

No… Shirou needed a dish that could be made in sufficient quantity for everyone to be able to taste it, while also conveying the same tastes to all the judges. He needed… a stew. It was the perfect dish for a contest like this. Incredibly simple at first glance, but with so many ways to enhance and bring out the base components. Stews had been around since ancient times, and in fact, the very first stews were said to have come from Japan itself, Shirou’s homeland.

Of course, he would not be trying to make a Japanese Stew of any kind today… no, given his ingredients on hand and his audience, Shirou figured he would go with something more… local. He would be making a French Beef Stew. Even if Dark Jeanne wasn’t one of the judges, he was confident she would at least try the dish once her allies all partook of it. He hoped that that would be the moment in which he might convince her to change her ways.

Silly? Maybe a little. Especially because there was one big problem with the whole… cook a stew thing. Namely, the fact that he’d only given himself thirty minutes of food prep.

Yeah. Any chef worth their apron could tell you that you didn’t make a real stew in thirty minutes. A stew’s strength came from letting it simmer for much longer than that, sometimes hours… sometimes days. There was even something called a perpetual stew, otherwise known as a forever soup. Such a stew was almost never fully emptied. Instead, the pot was constantly replenished with more liquid and more ingredients.

The concept originated in medieval times, used most commonly in roadside taverns. These days of course, the only perpetual stews tended to be points of pride or feats of accomplishment rather than necessity, with some having said to have been going on for decades. Shirou hadn’t heard of any to last a century yet, but he figured if they managed to restore Humanity, then perhaps they might one day get there.

That all said, as neat as perpetual stews were, they weren’t exactly relevant to what Shirou had to do here today. In fact, they were the exact opposite of what he needed here today. Shirou needed an instant stew, something that… really didn’t exist outside of some very shoddy products and all around processed garbage.

And yet, stew was what he’d decided to go with. As such… Shirou was going to have to cheat.

Look! It wasn’t really cheating, okay? Technically, there were no rules against what he was going to do. And yet… even still, as he begins mixing the ingredients he’s found into a nice big pot along with some water that’s quickly brought to a boil and then let to simmer, Shirou does everything he can to not resort to his last ditch measure. He uses every technique, every skill, every trick in the book… but there’s simply no helping it.

The best part about a good stew is giving it enough time for the meat to get properly tender. Too short of a simmer, and you were left with tough, unappetizing meat. And given that the only meats he’d been able to find in the charred, burned down ruins of La Charite were salted and almost jerkified, Shirou definitely needed the time for them to tenderize.

And so, as the minutes pass by and everyone watches him cook in silence, Shirou knows he’s not going to have enough time. Not… unless he makes it for himself, unfortunately. Of course, he can’t just… freeze the world around him for a few hours. He technically could Trace a Noble Phantasm that has that ability… but not only would it be incredibly prohibitive mana-wise, but it would also be entirely too noticeable and probably provoke the Dark Holy Maiden that he was currently trying to best.

On the other hand… speeding up time in a much smaller, more localized area might just work. Especially when it wasn’t speeding time up at all… but rather, the aging of something.

Still stirring his stew with one hand, Shirou carefully begins Tracing a dagger into the palm of his other. It’s nothing he’s ever used before, even though he cataloged it when he was fighting Gilgamesh and added it to his immense encyclopedia of swords and other bladed implements. The reason why is… well, it’s a nasty thing, this dagger. A Noble Phantasm, of course… but one with a somewhat evil purpose.

Put simply, the dagger is imbued with the concept of ‘age’. Whatever it stabs, it ages. Stab a human, they’ll age a year for every second it’s buried inside of them. Stab a piece of fruit, it’ll rot in mere moments. Stab a stew…

Well, Shirou isn’t trying to simmer the stew for an entire year, of course. That’s not his intention at all. He-

“What are you doing? What is that?”

Jeanne Alter’s clipped voice suddenly sounds out, startling Shirou from his inner thoughts. He very nearly drops the dagger in the stew, which would have been… well, probably disastrous. As it is, Shirou looks up at the yellow-eyed Dragon Witch and employs an ancient and storied tactic commonly known as… lying.

“Tasting implement.”

Jeanne Alter’s eyes narrow at that, and it’s clear she doesn’t believe him. But Shirou goes about ‘proving’ it. Namely, by bringing the dagger very carefully down to the stew… and ‘stabbing’ just the tip into the simmering surface before jerking it back. Immediately, he sees a change in the stew as it ages several hours in one moment. But of course, he can’t spend too much time looking at it, because there’s a certain Dark Holy Maiden waiting for him to use the dagger like he said he would.

Well, nothing for it. Bringing the dagger up to his mouth, Shirou presses the wet tip to his tongue. He definitely loses some time doing so, but he just as quickly withdraws it and smacks his lips, forgetting that he’s putting on a show for a moment as he tilts his head to the side… and smiles.

It’s worked. With a flick of the wrist, he lets the Traced Noble Phantasm vanish back into nothing, humming to himself as he goes back to stirring his simmering stew, happy as a clam. He can feel Dark Jeanne’s eyes burrowing into him of course, even as he works… but in the end, she can’t quite figure out what he’s done. And soon enough, the last minutes of the thirty minute time period he’d given them run out.

“Time’s up.”

Shirou has spent the last two minutes on the clock Tracing bowls and spoons. And so, when Jeanne Alter finally speaks up in a crisp tone, he’s actually managed to plate up everyone’s food… and he even used the bread he’d found, giving each of them a quarter of a bread loaf that sticks out of their nice, hot bowl of French Beef Stew.

Standing back, Shirou clasps his hands behind his back and nods his head in Jeanne’s direction.

“That it is! Who should go first?”

There’s a brief pause at that, as everyone involved in this whole judging process looks between the two dishes on offer. There’s the row of hot and steamy bowls of stew, each with a piece of bread sticking out of the side. And then… there’s the half loaf of bread that the Dragon Witch is still holding in one black gauntlet.

“… We should eat Shirou’s first!”

Ritsuka’s proclamation causes everyone to look in her direction, making the red head blush a little and squeak as she covers her hands with her mouth. Immediately, Dark Jeanne’s eyes narrow in response to her words.

“Oh? Is this some sort of trap? Poison, perhaps?”

But before Shirou can even defend himself (and his cooking), one of Jeanne’s subordinates steps forward, clearing her throat delicately.

“Actually… I agree. We should start with the mortal’s dish. If only to… give yours more room to shine.”

Those narrowed eyes lance over to her own Servant and it’s obvious Jeanne Alter doesn’t know whether she’s being mocked or not. Another of her subordinates is quick to back the first one up though.

“I must agree with Carmilla, truth be told. And if you’re really worried about poison, make their side eat first, Mistress.”

Shirou eyes the two Servants who have spoken. Both white-haired… and one of them is apparently named Carmilla. He has no idea who the other one is, other than that he’s a male in contract to Carmilla’s VERY feminine body. He’s also very pale.

Either way, having two of her Servants speaking in favor of Ritsuka’s proposal seems to make Jeanne Alter pause before slowly nodding.

“… Very well. A good plan. Go ahead then. Eat your… stew. However, you will each eat the bowls that I choose for you!”

Shirou can’t help but bristle a little bit at the idea that he would ever poison a meal. It was honestly so insulting it made him want to do something regrettable. Fortunately, he didn’t have a short temper so he was able to rein himself in… but it was a close thing. Regardless, one by one, his friends step forward and grab a bowl of Jeanne Alter’s choosing. Everyone except for Ruler Jeanne, who has to stay back and watch as she’s been sidelined to keep the judging fair.

In short order, Ritsuka, Rin, Saber Alter, and Ereshkigal have all taken up a bowl of stew and began chowing down. Despite having full confidence in his abilities, Shirou still watches carefully as they eat. He wants nothing more than to know he’s made them all happy.

… Judging by the way they slurp down the contents of their bowls before use their pieces of bread to mop up the remnants, he’s done a good job. Saber Alter even goes in for a long lick after hesitating for a moment, and though she blushes when she realizes people have seen her, she nevertheless stands her ground and holds her head high as she nods decisively.

“It’s good.”

That opens up the floodgates, so to speak. Seeing as Shirou’s allies aren’t dropping dead from the bowls of stew that Jeanne Alter herself chose for them, the four enemy Servants all move forward and pick up their own bowls. Shirou and his opponent are left to watch from the sidelines as they consume their own bowls of stew in record time, chowing down like nobody’s business. The white-haired pair of Servants eat voraciously and not at all cleanly, while the other two Servants act with a bit more decorum. But the end result is the same, as they finish off their respective bowls quite rapidly.

Dabbing her lips with a handkerchief, the blonde of the four Servants, wearing a blue wide-brimmed cavalier hat, looks on brightly in Shirou’s direction.

“This… this is the best French Beef Stew I’ve ever had! Amazing!”

The one named Carmilla lets out a contented sigh as she pats her exposed belly.

“Mm, I must agree with the Chevalier. That was… delightfully sinful.”

The pale, white-haired man licks his lips and gives a toothy grin.

“Best meal I’ve had since being Summoned to this dump.”

And finally, the fourth Servant, raven-haired and glancing somewhat nervously in the direction of a certain Dark Holy Maiden… fidgets.

“… It was very good.”

C-CRUNCH!

Everyone in the center of the burned down town jolts as Jeanne Alter somehow manages to make the sound of a half loaf of slightly ashy bread being crushed in a metal gauntlet reverberate through the entire place. Nostrils flaring, yellow eyes wide, Jeanne Alter drops her own ‘meal’ to the ground, having destroyed it in a fit of rage. Looking at her subordinates, her eyes narrow into slits.

“… Am I to understand then… that you are voting for my opponent and not me?”

Their silence is telling. And obviously, Shirou’s own allies were never going to choose Jeanne’s complete lack of a dish over Shirou’s honest best attempt at a thirty minute stew (with a teensy bit of Noble Phantasm help). And so… well, it’s become clear that Jeanne Alter has lost. However, it wasn’t about winning. It was about finding common ground.

Before the Dragon Witch can blow a gasket and do something regrettable, Shirou clears his throat and brings her attention back to him. And then he pulls the last bowl of steaming hot stew he’d made out from behind his back, showing it to Jeanne Alter.

“Please… at least try it for yourself if nothing else.”

Her eye twitches and for a moment he thinks she might refuse. But then… she stomps forward and yanks the bowl from his hand, sneering at him as she does so.

“You should know… I hold nothing but hatred in my heart for France and all the miserable things to be found in this country. God has forsaken these lands. So if you think you’re going to soften me up with food… and French food at that, you have another thing coming. This will only serve to fuel my disgust and distaste for these lands! You have done nothing! I refuse to accept these results! From the very beginning, this duel was nothing but a farce!”

Glaring at him quite aggressively, she takes the piece of bread sticking up from the stew and jabs it angrily into the bowl a few times before pulling it out and thrusting it into her open maw, biting down just as angrily and chewing even MORE angrily.

Shirou recognizes that he’s very close to the Dragon Witch, as she chews and chews. He recognizes that if she were to attack right now, it’s possible no one would be able to get to them in time to stop her. He recognizes these things… but doesn’t care. In the end, he’ll stake it all on his cooking. Because that’s who he is to his core.

[X] Jalter's hatred for France is overcome by the dish... and she crumples to the floor, a sobbing mess. - 59%