Chapter 181
Chapter 181
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 181
Chapter Title: The Terror of a Known Taste
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“Nanny, didn’t you say you were going on a diet this time?”
Seria smiled as she watched her nanny mix plenty of honey and milk into her black tea, then dip pastries and croissants slathered thick with butter into fresh cream and eat them.
The aroma of the savory butter was delightful. When you popped one into your mouth, it was salty yet not greasy, with a nutty richness, and the browned exterior offered a slightly charred edge instead of bitterness when chewed, adding to the flavor.
Then, with the salt lingering on your tongue, a sip of that sweet, fragrant black tea was pure heaven.
You could start right back in on the pastries without tiring of them.
And if the taste started to feel a bit heavy, piling on some crushed berries or tart fruits refreshed the luxurious mouthfeel.
At Seria’s words, her nanny grabbed the tip of a rolled-up croissant, tore off a bit of the soft yellow interior, popped it into her mouth, and replied.
“But our Crown Princess’s status keeps rising higher and higher—how could I hold back? Every day is so blissful that dieting doesn’t even cross my mind.”
“Pfft. Aren’t you just using me as an excuse because you want to eat something delicious? And come on, I’m not the Crown Princess yet.”
Her nanny brushed the crumbs from her lips with elegant grace and answered the words of Seria, who always looked like an innocent little angel in her presence.
“But it’ll be soon. With traits like that, isn’t it just a matter of time before His Imperial Majesty announces it?”
She piled crushed fruit onto a long strip of croissant and took a bite. The nutty, salty butter flavor seemed to flow from her mouth up into her nose.
The fruit’s tartness and texture enhanced what might otherwise be overpowering buttery notes, and she finished it off with black tea.
“People who don’t know any better say you can skip dieting since you’ve already tried every flavor out there. But it’s precisely because you know the taste that it’s so terrifying.”
Something this delicious and blissful was obvious once you put it in your mouth—how could anyone resist?
Seria smiled as she watched her nanny happily sip her tea again.
“Right, Nanny. It’s the known taste that’s so terrifying, isn’t it?”
It wasn’t just food, either.
Power and wealth were the same.
The more you had, the more you craved.
That’s what they said about commoners. That royals and nobles already had so much, so why squeeze for more?
That even if they had unremarkable traits that didn’t amount to much, it wouldn’t matter. They didn’t lack the ability to earn money, nor did they go hungry—so why act like that?
‘Because they know the taste.’
How sweet power was. How happy vast wealth made you.
If this was the indulgence afforded by the rank of First Princess, what would the throne bring?
The pinnacle of Tateリア, the greatest and strongest human empire on this continent—what a thrill that would be.
Seria smiled with crinkled eyes, took a sip of tea, and set her cup into the air. It floated slowly before settling onto the table with a soft clink.
Her nanny gazed at the sight with eyes full of pure adoration and spoke.
“Every time I see it, it fills me with overwhelming ecstasy, Your Highness.”
“Me too.”
How pitiful were those who didn’t know this sensation. The pulse of mana felt in the flow of the wind.
The delightful feeling of an extra invisible hand, controlling it.
“Does it even make sense that I lived without knowing this?”
She probably owed a thank-you to that foolish, blind, unlucky Adelrian.
For handing her something so wonderful.
“And the church said they’d handle even the minor side effects.”
Seria’s eyes sparkled as she smiled.
* * *
“Ugh, I’m dying here.”
“Drama queen.”
The woman massaged her shoulder with her other hand, patted it, and lowered the corners of her eyes.
“It’s not drama, I swear.”
Do you know how grueling it is to separate bone from flesh? And isn’t the skull the hardest part of the human body?
Chopping it up with just a dagger takes such precision, so much hand strength, and wears out your shoulder muscles like crazy—does the captain get that?
Ah, if only she could light up a good smoke right now and take a long drag. Pure bliss, like being in the gods’ embrace.
“You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”
The man shook his head at the woman, who muttered just audibly enough under her breath, her words landing clearly despite the grumbling tone.
“This damn stubble—shave it in the morning, and by lunch it’s poking back up.”
“By evening, it’s plain as day.”
The man pulled a wax-coated cloth bundle from his pocket, took out a raw smoke stick, and the woman’s eyes lit up.
“You bastard. I shouldn’t have shared that one last time.”
Ever since, she’d been angling for more by faking aches, sorrows, agonies, and now his stock was running low. He handed one over with regret, and she snatched it eagerly, bowing deeply at the waist.
“I’ll smoke it good, sir!”
“Alright, you rascal.”
They both plopped down on bloodstained rocks padded with leaves, inhaled the thick smoke, and gazed down the hill.
“No matter how many times I see it, it never fails to soothe the soul.”
“You’ve got weird tastes.”
“Don’t you, Captain?”
The man chuckled dryly at her puzzled look.
Even if you diluted red paint in water and spread it around, how much would it take to get that sheen?
The village center, once without a single lake, now looked like it had a pond of blood.
Humans skewered on pikes, fanned out, surrounded by bone-piled fire pits.
Acrid black smoke and the stench of blood mingled and wafted up the hill on the breeze.
“It’s a familiar sight, so it doesn’t move me anymore.”
“Come on. Your sense of wonder and faith must be bone-dry.”
Today too, the mana from emotions wrung out while guiding them into the Saint God’s embrace would perfect Him a bit more. She grinned, and the man flicked his ash as he spoke.
“Daisy.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“When did you join my squad as leader of the sacrifice ritual team?”
“About two years ago, right?”
He shook his head, eyes saying two years wasn’t long enough for this nonsense.
“The sacrifice search team’s signaled—get that smoke done quick so we can move.”
At his words, Daisy, the woman called, stuck the smoke in her mouth, picked up a thin twig from the ground, scraped the dried blood from under her nails, and spoke.
“Captain Meken, by the way, I saw it in the newsletter we get sometimes—is that true?”
Meken, stroking his prickly chin, gave her a weary look at her words.
“You rifled through mine again?”
“Hey, what’s yours is mine and mine’s yours. And rifled? It was left open like it was meant for me.”
I’m not some underling who casually touches the captain’s private stuff. She thumped her chest indignantly, and Meken rubbed his forehead before replying.
“What’s this ‘truth’ you’re asking about?”
“The princess.”
Is it true they handled that side effect for real, the church one?
She leaned in and whispered slyly, and Meken scratched his droopy eye corner with a smirk.
“As if.”
For an outsider who’d never received the Saint God’s grace, shown no oath or resolve, not even registered with the church.
The statue of the closed-eyed saint.
As if the church would perfectly pay the price for something that dangerous.
“It’s captain-level intel only. But you’re the type who’ll stick with me roaming the continent, so...”
Meken took a deep drag, swallowed the smoke, then exhaled from both sides of his lips with a whoosh as he muttered.
“Probably not offset the cost—just postponed it. Costly method, but cheaper than full offset.”
That foolish princess wouldn’t be needed later anyway.
“Speaking of, the newsletter had more on Chaser. Isn’t that faction hyping the youngest executor too much?”
Big deal, teaming up with black mages again for some results.
Didn’t he fail the sea-pearl recovery last time?
Our captain’s the best. Daisy grumbled, and Meken chuckled dryly.
“Attribute relics go to whoever’s closest on dispatch. He just got there first.”
“Then he should’ve moved faster. Activating it could’ve wrecked the elves big time. Instead, he let them snatch initiative and control, got booted from the space like a fart or something.”
Others’ faction failures were always entertaining. Daisy chuckled, savoring her smoke, and Meken sighed.
“Still, executors at least know fieldwork hardship. Better than selectors.”
“True, those selectors strut around all high and mighty—makes me sick. We reclaimers are the ones getting blood on our hands.”
Meken looked at her with droopy eyes, scraped his stubble with his nail, and spoke.
“We all serve the Saint God from our positions. No one’s better. Executors purging external heretics and traitors, selectors finding and recruiting the church’s needs. And...”
Reclaimers like us, taking back lives the Saint God gave to fill Him. Do our part, wait, and He’ll be perfect.
“Serving a god who lives and breathes on our land for us—not some powerless remnant deity lost somewhere. How glorious and sacred.”
So don’t bicker among comrades, Meken said, but Daisy stared down blankly.
Worried he’d crushed her spirits, he thought to add something nice, but then he checked what she was looking at and smacked the back of her head with a crack.
“You rascal, I’m saying something nice—why stare at ants?”
“Ow! Why hit me? It didn’t hurt, but I missed them now. No, how could I not watch ants right in front of me dismantling another bug?”
“Anyway, the church’s moves keep hitting snags lately.”
Meken finished his smoke, ground it out on the dried-blood rock, and Daisy looked up.
“Yeah, even when the Saint God wakes adjusting to the body, we’ve always brought good news.”
From doppelganger potion supply issues to friction with black mages, and the ambitious plague plan other factions prepped nearly tanked thanks to the Kruger family.
Cyclops awakening for border chaos, puppet plans from nobles to royals via doppelganger potions—all on hold.
Even stealing attribute treasures from ancient ruins the Saint God revealed, mutual destruction with elven guardians via flying fortresses—gone up in smoke.
All too perfectly, like someone’s interfering.
‘At least the spirit forest ruin was definitely sabotaged.’
The rest are iffy. Come to think of it, Chaser mentioned saboteurs’ appearances...
Meken pondered briefly, then lifted his head as if hearing something.
“Wonder what He’ll say when He wakes this time.”
“At least praise for us.”
We killed and offered so many to ease His burden.
Watching the massacre below where even the black smoke was dying down, Meken dusted his rear and stood.
“Looks like the sacrifice search team found another good village.”
“Sacrifice ritual team’ll pack the offerings and follow—go ahead.”
Meken nodded once, cloaked himself in aura, and vanished downhill in a flash.
Daisy watched, then dusted off, flicked her smoke butt downslope, stretched, and smirked.
“Time to move again. All for our living god.”