The Succession Ceremony (1)

Thanks to the experts on the Gallery, I was able to harvest an astonishing amount of honey.

The empty glass bottles left over from elixirs weren't nearly enough to hold it all, so I ended up buying a brand-new, massive barrel. It was so enormous that my arms could barely wrap around it. The honeycomb itself had been colossal, but the sheer volume of golden liquid it yielded was downright frightening. In the end, even the barrel overflowed, forcing me to funnel the rest into every empty elixir bottle I could scavenge.

With honey spilling out of every container, I sent gifts to the registered forum users I was close with. Heavenly Demon was the first recipient, followed immediately by Sword Master. Since it wasn't a potent elixir requiring delicate refinement, but pure, delicious honey that could be enjoyed straight away, Sword Master accepted it with obvious delight.

Next in line was Passing Dwarf.

Passing Dwarf broke it down for me.

A hive anchored to wood was tree honey, while one fastened to stone was rock honey. Honey was essentially the distilled essence of countless blossoms gathered in one place, which meant the waxy comb housing it had absorbed the potent vitality of all those wild flowers native to the Forest of the Four Seasons.

The dwarf's logic was surprisingly sound. That deer had handed the hive right to me; if it turned out to be toxic, I could just go hunt the beast down. Granted, considering the deer's absurd combat prowess, bringing it down would be an uphill battle, but it wasn't an impossible thought. More importantly, I had elixirs and antidotes stockpiled. I was thoroughly prepared for worst-case scenarios.

Since he practically begged on both knees, I passed along an extra scoop. With how much I had, a little more wouldn't make a dent anyway.

After that, I distributed portions to the other regulars, and almost everyone was thrilled. The sole exception was Allfather—I couldn't give him any because he was offline. His appearances on the Gallery had grown sparse lately, probably due to some pressing personal business in his world.

With all the gifts sent off, I turned my attention to the remaining honeycomb left behind after extraction.

Should I take a bite?

I had sliced the comb into neat rectangular blocks to strain the honey. Even after draining so much, rich nectar still oozed from the geometric wax cells. The barrel I bought was packed to the brim, leaving nowhere else to store the overflow.

There aren't any grubs or bugs crawling in here, right?

I inspected the comb again and again, turning it over under the light. It was immaculate—not a single stray insect in sight. Satisfied, I trimmed a piece into bite-sized squares. Never in my life did I imagine I'd be snacking on raw honeycomb.

Before putting any into my own mouth, I handed a few chunks to Bbarmbo and the other beasts. If these woodland companions could eat it without keeling over, it meant it was safe for me, too.

"Nom, nom, nom, nom!"

"Tasty?"

"Yum, nom!"

They inhaled it. Even Bbarmbo, despite his slothful habits, chewed through the waxy layers slowly and deliberately. He was notorious for rejecting anything that smelled remotely suspicious, yet he scarfed down the comb without the slightest hesitation. Judging by their reactions, it was thoroughly non-toxic.

I turned a dripping golden chunk in my hand, admiring the gleam, and popped it into my mouth.

"Munch, chew, chew... Hm?"

The moment I bit down and savored the flavor, my eyes snapped wide. I already knew the honey tasted divine, but I never expected the comb itself to be this delectable. The texture was peculiar—almost like biting into a soft, chewy pastry. A subtle, pleasant bitterness undercut the intense, cloying sweetness, blending together into a flawless harmony.

It really does feel like a pastry snack.

The flavor passed with flying colors. Even so, I couldn't let my guard down entirely; natural toxins and bizarre properties usually took time to manifest their symptoms. I could only pray my stomach wouldn't stage a revolt.

As for storing the rest of the comb... I'd better grab another barrel.

I bought an additional wooden container ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through the interface to pack away the chopped honeycomb. Between this and the honey container, barrels had proven insanely useful. I'd probably need to stockpile even more down the line.

Was tomorrow the Succession Ceremony?

Licking the sticky sweetness lingering on my fingertips, I scrolled through the Gallery. With the ceremony scheduled for the next day, the forum was flooded with posts discussing it. None of the chatter was of any practical help to my survival, but I couldn't help feeling a pang of envy.

Man, I want to meet another human being.

It had been almost a full month since I woke up in the Forest of the Four Seasons. I had caught glimpses of people, but I had never spoken with or met one face-to-face. Even the paladin riding the giraffe across the river hadn't reached out—not that we had any means of contact. Part of me wondered if that moment had been my one and only chance.

People on the forum said he was monstrously strong... but who knows?

I had hiked back to the riverbank several times to check, but the sunlit savanna from that day had vanished without a trace. In its place stretched a completely different, hellish biome. Every single time I stared across that churning water, I found myself grateful that I was on this side of the bank.

"Hah!"

"Kyuu!"

"Hah!"

"Kyuu!"

Just as my mind drifted, sharp shouts broke the evening quiet. I turned to see Wonmo mimicking Ggobongi's every movement as the gorilla went through his martial arts katas. Borne as a bear cub, Wonmo barely managed to balance on his stubby hind legs, waving his tiny, plush arms in serious imitation. The sight was so absurdly adorable that a grin spread across my face unbidden.

Is it because he's a baby? Just like a toddler copying their older siblings.

Until now, Wonmo's daily routine had consisted strictly of eating, sleeping, and pooping. What would become of him if he actually started learning martial arts?

"Kyuuu..."

"Worn out already? Let's get you washed up and into bed."

What would become of him? Simple: he'd exhaust himself and crash early. I scooped up the wobbling cub as he dragged his drowsy feet toward me, gently washing the sticky honey and dirt from his fur. Perhaps because he had spent such a productive day training, his head kept nodding off mid-bath, making it quite the ordeal. Afterward, I thoroughly dried his coat by the hearth and let him sink into peaceful slumber.

I should get ready for bed, too.

The night was deep. Judging by the Gallery's timestamps, it was about time for everyone to sleep. I slathered bug repellent over Ggobongi and sent him outside. Having grown accustomed to sleeping under the open stars, he trotted out into the yard without a single complaint.

Maybe I should build him a shed or something.

Leaving him exposed to the elements felt a bit cruel, but I shelved the thought for later. He was a wild beast who had slept outdoors his entire life; he'd be fine so long as the insects didn't chew him up.

Still no weird symptoms from the honeycomb.

A good while had passed since I swallowed the comb, yet my stomach remained completely calm. In fact, a soothing surge of vigor seemed to course through my limbs, leaving me strangely refreshed. Perhaps this was the nourishing essence of the forest blossoms Passing Dwarf had mentioned.

Come to think of it, why did that deer hand me the hive in the first place?

I couldn't fathom the stag's motives for bestowing such a treasure upon me. The only favor I had ever done for it was offering a warm hearth fire during the dead of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠winter.

If that was really the only reason... then fine.

Next winter, I'd make sure to let him cozy up by the hearth again. Or maybe I could ask the raccoon family to deliver a batch of embers to his den. That deer was terrifyingly powerful, so staying on its good side couldn't possibly hurt. I planned to visit the arena tomorrow anyway, so maybe I'd run into it and strike up a chat.

I should tell Ggobongi to enter the matches, too.

With that final thought drifting through my mind, I closed my eyes, silently praying that the day I finally met another living person would arrive soon.

The hour had come to welcome a new sun to the realm—a grand transition of generations.

It was the Succession Ceremony, the historic day Prince Arnold would ascend the imperial throne as Emperor. Naturally, the entire Messiah Empire, and the imperial capital above all, bustled in frantic preparation. Every official labored tirelessly to ensure that not a single blemish or delay would mar the sacred proceedings.

Of course, that frantic stress was reserved strictly for the event administrators. The nobility and commoners were consumed by entirely different motives: the aristocrats scrambled to weave powerful political ties with the new sovereign, while the commoners aimed to line their pockets through the windfall of royal festivities. The succession was nothing short of an empire-wide carnival, drawing prominent figures from every corner of the realm.

"Good gracious, child! What on earth was in that honey you ate yesterday? Your complexion has transformed completely!"

"Don't you think it's just the wonderful food Mother cooked for me rather than the honey?"

Ash Menethil, the Swordmaster whose name was never omitted whenever the continent's strongest warriors were debated, smiled wryly. Her mother looked upon Ash's immaculate, tailored ceremonial uniform, showering her with unreserved praise. While Ash cut a dashing figure in her crisp regalia, what truly arrested the eye was the sheer brilliance of her skin.

"Nonsense! As if a girl who survives on pastries and snacks could get skin like that from home cooking! Does that honey possess some miraculous medicinal properties?"

"Nothing of the sort. It really just improved my skin a little, that's all."

"Just improved your skin? Look at your hands! They used to be as cracked and rough as a tortoise shell, yet overnight they've turned as smooth as porcelain!"

Just as her mother remarked, Ash's skin had undergone an unrecognizable transformation in a single day. Given her extraordinary realm of martial attainment, Ash naturally boasted youthful beauty that put women in their twenties to shame. Yet despite undergoing Physical Rebirth, there was one part of her flesh that had never softened: her hands.

Hands were the cornerstone of human labor, and the most brutally used tool of all. For a swordmaster who lived and breathed martial discipline, no amount of cosmetic care could ever undo the relentless toll of the blade. Having achieved Physical Rebirth at an exceptionally young age through monstrous, peerless talent, Ash had gripped and swung swords without pause ever since, leaving her palms hardened and layered with rough calluses like the shell of a tortoise.

"Hmm..."

Prompted by her mother's words, Ash raised her hands and stared. Delicate, slender, and radiant—the phrase 'hands of carved jade' suited them to perfection. Just a single day after consuming the honey gifted by Grylls, her skin had been reborn in such stunning fashion.

To be completely honest, I'm not thrilled about this at all.

Hands could easily be tucked away inside leather gloves, and calluses were the sacred badge of a true swordsman. More than that, calluses made gripping the hilt far more comfortable. The first time she had ever picked up a sword and swung it as a child, the soft skin of her palms had been torn bloody and raw. Knowing that blurting this out would immediately invite a terrifying smack to her back from her mother, Ash hastily redirected the conversation with a white lie.

"Aside from mine, hasn't Mother's skin improved just as much?"

"Hohoho! Now that you mention it, it really has!"

It wasn't merely Ash; her mother had experienced the exact same wonder. Ash hadn't hoarded the sweet jar to herself—she had shared a generous bowl with her mother. Thanks to that, her mother now possessed a vibrant glow that rivaled women decades younger. What was more, even the deep laugh lines and age wrinkles had faded to faint whispers. Seen from a distance, the two could easily be mistaken for sisters.

Even so, who would have thought the efficacy would be this absurd...?

Ash maintained an easygoing smile, but inwardly, she was thoroughly shaken. The potency of that honey was downright terrifying. In her own case, one could attribute part of the miracle to her transcendent martial realm, but her mother was a completely ordinary human. Her mother was of humble commoner stock who had endured decades of bitter poverty and hard labor; the noble title belonged solely to Ash. She had possessed the weathered, aged face expected of her difficult years, yet now she looked decades younger overnight.

Thank goodness Mother doesn't browse the Gallery.

Had her mother been a forum user, Ash never would have dared share the honey. Still, seeing her mother practically skipping with giddy happiness warmed Ash's chest. It felt as though she had performed an act of genuine filial devotion for the first time in ages. Smiling softly, Ash walked onward toward the venue.

"Hey, look over there!"

"Good heavens... Isn't that House Mercedes?"

"I suppose even they are attending the Succession Ceremony!"

As they drew closer to the grand square, muffled whispers rippled through the gathering crowd and caught Ash's sharp ears. Being an empire-wide celebrity, Ash was more than accustomed to people whispering about her wherever she went. Murmurs about other nobles, however, were another matter. She casually tilted her head.

Descending from an opulent, resplendent carriage was a high-noble entourage.

House Mercedes? So they decided to attend after all.

Considering the magnitude of an imperial coronation, the presence of a premier ducal house was hardly surprising. What truly arrested everyone's attention, however, was the number of passengers. Stepping out alongside Duke Mercedes and his wife were two additional young women.

"Wait... Is that young lady...?"

"L-Lady Mercedes?! I thought she was terminally ill...?"

"She's breathtaking..."

A beauty reminiscent of freshly fallen snow—a noblewoman whose aloof, guarded expression could not diminish her peerless grace—stepped lightly onto the cobblestones. Behind her followed a modest young woman with soft brown hair. Ash's brow arched in genuine surprise.

I heard she was suffering from an incurable ailment. Did she completely recover?

Even as a self-proclaimed home security guard shut inside her estate, Ash kept reasonably informed of high-society affairs. Furthermore, spending endless hours browsing the Gallery meant all manner of rumors naturally reached her ears. Lady Selena Mercedes, who by all rights should have remained bedridden due to her terminal affliction, had stepped directly onto the continental stage. For her to make a public appearance at such a massive state function was unprecedented.

Judging by her color, she doesn't look frail in the slightest. And that skin... Wait, what?

The instant Ash laid eyes on Selena's complexion, her gaze dropped reflexively to her own hands. Skin bathed in an ethereal, faint luminescence thanks to the wild honey—and Selena's porcelain skin carried that exact same unnatural, radiant sheen.

In that moment, Selena seemed to notice Ash standing among the crowd and shifted her cool gaze toward her.

"...?"

Selena tilted her head slightly. Ash possessed striking looks of her own, making her instantly stand out in any gathering. Yet what commanded Selena's attention far more than Ash's sharp features was the miraculous texture of the Swordmaster's skin.

...Wait.

Selena, mirroring Ash's earlier gesture, flicked her eyes between her own delicate fingertips and the woman standing before her.

...What is this?

This feeling... why is it so strangely familiar?

An indefinable, peculiar tension quietly bloomed in the air between the two women.