The Preparing Angel (4)

Refri quickly surveyed the cathedral. With things turning out like this, he had to survive somehow.

'As expected of an ancient civilization's cathedral—no leaks or drafts anywhere.' It truly was the Last Cathedral. Its defenses and barriers were probably superior to any other place.

'Alright then...' Refri headed toward the basement. The underground chamber that only opened for someone acknowledged as the cathedral's master. What could be hidden there? He didn't know exactly, but there had to be useful supplies for daily life... or so Refri fantasized.

'Just a bed, TV, fridge...! Oh, and a computer that can ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠run games, even if it's not the latest model.' These were utterly ridiculous thoughts. In technical terms, this was called escapism.

Clunk— As soon as Refri touched it, a latch clicked open on the opposite side, followed by the creaking of hinges echoing through the cathedral. It couldn't help but send chills down his spine. And then, beneath his feet, stairs plunged into endless darkness.

Refri muttered at the sight.

"Should I start from the top?"

He'd bought simple side dishes, a burner, a fire starter, various tools... and most importantly, a flashlight. The boy cautiously descended into the cathedral's basement.

For some reason, a cleansing spell must have been active—the air was surprisingly fresh, despite the door not having opened in thousands of years.

"...This is."

It was a mural. Clearly depicting some angel. And below it, some text.

'Not the human tongue. Then maybe another world's language...?'

No, not that either. None of the otherworldly languages had anything like this. Yet Refri could read it, even though it was a script he'd never seen before.

"An angel without wings is no angel?"

A phrase he'd heard somewhere before. Refri cautiously moved past the mural and found a few items.

"Mysterious potions... an ancient generator? And assorted junk."

Dungeons and ancient facilities always ran without stopping, no maintenance or fuel needed. The reason was this semi-permanent mana generator—simply called an ancient generator.

This one, glowing faintly blue, was larger than any Refri had ever seen. For reference, Refri was an angel who'd laid eyes on the ancient generator in humanity's greatest fortress, the Mariana Base. That one was only about the size of a soccer ball—yet it powered the entire base on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠its own.

This one was...

"Looks about five times bigger."

It would take a true magic engineering genius to operate. Such a genius could probably create all sorts of things with it. For example... Anyway, power wouldn't be an issue. If he could just get a mana converter, he'd make it work somehow.

With power sorted...

Gurgle—

Even angels couldn't escape physiological needs. He had to eat.

If this were the dorms, he'd be feasting at the buffet by now.

"...Not jealous at all."

Refri twisted in envy. To live quietly without getting dragged into incidents, sometimes you had to give things up. And there were upsides to skipping the buffet.

'I can cook whatever I want...!'

Yes. Refri urgently needed to level up his cooking skill. He didn't know how to raise the others, but he knew exactly how for cooking. Cook often, and the harder the dish, the faster it leveled.

'Just cooking a lot doesn't cut it—like boiling hundreds of ramen packs. That wouldn't level you up no matter how long you tried.'

Did that mean Refri could make hard dishes? Absolutely not. All he could do was boil ramen, fry eggs, cook rice... maybe even kimchi fried rice?

'And those are all Lv.1 cooking. Hundreds of tries wouldn't level them.'

But there was one...

A recipe he knew, one the skill deemed difficult. In other worlds, there was something called corrupted rice. A subspecies grown in mana-corrupted soil—inedible for humans, of course. Highly resistant to mana corruption, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it was used experimentally to detect contamination.

But there was a dish made from it: mana rice...!

Mages went crazy for it. Simple recipe: Purify the corrupted rice into edible rice, then cook it. The result was mana rice.

Simple? Not really. Holy power was more dangerous than any mana—using it shredded the user's body and mind. Waste it on cooking rice? If no holy user was around, you'd use holy water... a national strategic resource... for rice? You'd get arrested.

That's why mana rice was Lv.10. The hardest dish the skill recognized. Lv.9 was dragon tail stew—get the idea?

So Refri unpacked the corrupted rice. Black grains... no one would eat it, but the milling for easy color change was nice. He boiled water, then cooked uncleaned corrupted rice straight up. Normally, this would ruin it as food, just wasted experiment...

On another burner, he set a frying pan and drizzled in heavenly oil bit by bit.

'Tasted it last time... pretty good?'

Living point. Heavenly oil was edible. Delicious, even. And frying kimchi in it...?

"Is this even allowed?"

A sacred aroma wafted—sacred garlic, chili... you know. Perfect timing: the corrupted rice finished.

Refri worriedly dumped it into the frying pan.

"...It's purifying."

Heavenly oil held holy power stronger than any holy water. Purifying this corruption was trivial, of course. Though it wasn't meant for this. Oil for anointing prophets and kings...

The grains turned white, then pink from kimchi, glistening in oil. Appetizing...

Kimchi fried rice complete.

"Looks decent..."

Suddenly, the boy felt a headache. A sharp one.

Strange sensations flooded his mind. How to snap without spilling while stir-frying. Which spices pair with which ingredients. How to boil noodles... and bread...

"...Gasp."

Refri, who'd never learned baking, now had skills to open a bakery. And his eyes fell on the piles of corrupted rice bags.

...And the angel power ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠still in his body.

Refri muttered.

"Today's the day I hit Cooking Lv.10."

The moment he emptied twenty bags of corrupted rice, Refri finally reached Cooking Lv.10. An incredible realm—one even talented cooks might never attain in a lifetime.

But Refri cheesed it with a trick.

"Ah, aigoo..."

Behind him, mountains of kimchi fried rice, egg fried rice, ham fried rice... All using heavenly oil, the flavors were insane.

The price: trembling arms. Bandaged and taped burns and wounds, healed with all his angel power. And the crashing fatigue from depleting it all...

"Aigoo, the angel's dying..."

Refri felt he needed to recharge angel power fast. Or he'd really fall asleep. Sleeping now might mean never waking...

'Need angel power...!'

He started packing various fried rices into lunchboxes he'd bought yesterday.

'The fancy young masters and ladies won't eat this. Too suspicious of outsiders like me anyway.'

Someone to share with.

"Damn black magic haters."

A mutter echoed in the bathroom. Naturally, it was Soya. The gray-haired girl pulled out her lunchbox with a grumpy expression.

...Why eat in the bathroom? Three big reasons.

First, bad blood with certain magic families. They'd stolen her research, claimed it as theirs, then led her isolation when called out. Those jerks were reason one.

Second, Soya's personality wasn't great. There's a saying: endure and it breaks. But Soya endured, never yielding. Established powers don't like that.

Finally, her major: black magic. Not really the issue—perfect excuse after the other two. So Soya was ostracized. Bullied in dorms, couldn't even eat in peace.

Yet she never broke. That's Soya.

"Damn black magic haters!"

Vowing revenge someday, she happily opened her lunchbox. And then...

Splash—

Mana purification wastewater dumped on her head. Lunch ruined in an instant.

"Oh, someone there?"

"Guess not. No answer."

Obvious mockery. Still, Soya didn't cry. Holding it in, she reached the magic department rooftop...

"Found you... Soya!"

A boy called brightly. Sweaty—he must've run here.

"Refri?"

The beautiful boy with unforgettable looks: Refri.

"Eaten lunch yet?"

"...No, not yet."

True—she'd failed—but prideful Soya couldn't admit it.

"Great, let's eat together."

"W-Why me? I have someone to eat with."

"Brought enough for you... Can't? Guess I'll toss it..."

A heavenly smell wafted. Soya wiped her drool, stiffly lifted her head.

"No helping it. Can't waste food."

Thus, Soya ate Refri's sacred-mana fried rice. Heavenly oil exploded flavor and aroma; mana rice gave insane umami for mages...!

Terrifyingly delicious. A storm of taste.

"......"

Heavenly, literally. Days of pent-up grievances crumbled in a moment. Melting into tears.

"Ah..."

Soya hastily wiped them.

"Don't misunderstand—this is sweat...! Mages sweat from their eyes...!"

Her nonsense didn't matter to Refri. What mattered was...