You Have No Idea How Good This Is

Dragons are widely considered the wisest creatures in the world.

They boast lifespans stretching across millennia, supernatural power matched with transcendent intellect, and the casual might to forge or obliterate an entire empire on a whim. To find any existence wiser than a dragon, one would have to look beyond mortal boundaries to the immortal gods themselves—or perhaps the ancient demons who dare defy them.

When such an apex predator employs magic to uncover something hidden, no secret can remain concealed.

A dazzling deluge of radiant particles swept across the entire lecture hall, dismantling every conceivable layer of stealth, distortion, and cognitive illusion before searing the raw truth directly into the Headmaster's mind.

Before such mercilessly advanced magic, Orknodi—tucked snugly beneath Giselle's cloak—was exposed in an instant. Along with the Mana Spore Sac currently digesting inside her stomach!

—You brazen little rodent. If it holds a shred of mana, you'll nibble it down, won't you? Be it a rock or a spore sac!

How did he catch me?

Wait, he's not actually going to drag it back out of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my mouth after I already swallowed it, is he?

...Knowing him, he totally might.

Orknodi glared up at him, her round eyes practically radiating distrust.

Reading the brazen little thought plain as day across her face, the Dragon Principal felt his exasperation spike to new heights. That sticky-fingered Foundation brat didn't possess a single speck of respect for an educator.

—Do you truly believe a pathetic thimbleful of mana like that could even register to a creature of my stature? I have no intention of dredging it out of you, so wipe that insolent look off your face.

Students were prone to delusions. They whispered that Gift Academy was an inhumane hellhole and that its headmaster was practically an undercover Demon King. While it was true that what began as an amusing cash-grab hobby had somehow dragged on for 981 years, he had long since grown quite earnest about teaching—even if he hadn't been in the early centuries. Having his competence as an educator doubted by a pack of ignorant fledglings never failed to leave a foul taste in his mouth.

—Today, I shall etch genuine respect into your eyes, whether you want it or not.

—Behold how a true master prepares the world's finest mushroom delicacy!

With a flick of the Dragon Principal's massive claw, several Red Teeth Mushrooms were plucked into the air.

Squawk!

With a clean, effortless snap, the monsters' necks were broken. The lethal spores that made battling mushroom monsters such a nightmare were sealed before they could even consider venting outward.

—The first rule of culinary mushroom monster preparation: while maintaining absolute suppression over the specimen, you must wrap its entire body in a mana coating.

—Once sealed so thoroughly that not a single spore can escape, snap the neck or slide a blade into the stem. A clean, pristine kill.

The freshmen's faces paled, their expressions curdling into pure dismay. Some were merely sick to their stomachs, while others had already lost all hope at step one.

—Each variety of mushroom monster demands a distinct culinary method depending on its coloration and morphology.

—Yellow Teeth Mushrooms yield a rich, umami-laden stock. Blue Teeth Mushrooms, on the other hand, should always be added as the final garnish in stews or sautés so they retain their signature crunch.

—Green Teeth Mushrooms, renowned for their toothsome texture, are frequently employed as meat substitutes or battered for deep-frying.

—And finally, the grand pinnacle: the Red Teeth Mushroom. A premier dish bursting with dense nutrition and sublime texture, perfectly suited as a main course. Today, I shall present braised Red Teeth Mushroom and a velvety Red Teeth Mushroom soup.

A mouthwatering aroma, shockingly reminiscent of prime roast meat, wafted through the hall. Despite themselves, several students began smacking their lips.

"Are you guys insane? That's a monster!"

"Exactly! It's not just any monster either—it's the infamous mushroom monster!"

This wasn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an ingredient an ordinary adventurer could ever dream of tackling. Handling such hazardous flora without an official Mushroom Culinary License was practically asking for an agonizing death. The darker the Red Teeth Mushroom's reputation, the higher the students' suspicions soared toward the dragon's feast.

—There. It is finished.

Credit where credit was due: the dragon's culinary finesse was extraordinary. Conjuring cooking implements from thin air with casual aplomb was impressive enough, but the way he calibrated water ratios and flame temperatures entirely through delicate mana control was nothing short of miraculous.

Even so, the prospect of actually putting that creation into their own mouths sent shivers down their spines.

—Now then. I shall permit one volunteer the honor of tasting it first.

—Why does no one step forward? Are you questioning this headmaster's culinary expertise?

The students looked ready to burst into tears.

So that's why he cooked it!

I knew it was weird for that sadistic lizard to be acting so docile today! He was setting up an absurdly lethal practical exam all along!

Their panicked thoughts buzzed on the exact same wavelength.

'If I eat that and catch a spore parasite, he'll just dock my grade for lacking the grit to digest it without getting infected!'

'He's probably waiting to dock points from anyone foolish enough to consume suspect rations, saying a proper second-year intermediate would never fall for it!'

'It's that dragon's cooking. God only knows what kind of cursed trap is buried in there!'

Just as the dragon's ire was beginning to simmer at their collective cowardice, a small hand shot up.

"Ooh, I'll eat it!"

The fearless little rodent.

The sticky-fingered brat of the Foundation.

Orknodi stepped forward with a radiant, innocent smile.

"Orknodi! Are you crazy?! Why would you volunteer to swallow something so dangerous?!" Isabelle gasped, lunging forward. "If you want real food, I'll cook you whatever you want later! Just apologize to the Headmaster right now!"

"Please, listen to Isabelle," Giselle urged, his merchant smile crumbling into sheer urgency. "I understand the temptation of sampling an unfamiliar delicacy, but this is far ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too reckless."

"Listen to the adults, ya runt," Son Ocheon rumbled gruffly.

The moment she stepped out, her very first companions in this world—Isabelle, Giselle, and Son Ocheon—swarmed around her in desperate protest.

"It's fine, really! Eating this won't kill me!"

"It won't kill you, it'll just turn your insides into a fungal breeding ground!" Isabelle cried.

"Even with top-tier medical treatment, if so much as a single microscopic spore remains lodged in your tissue, you'll require months of intensive care," Giselle added grimly.

"Listen to the smart kids," Son Ocheon insisted, crossing his massive, furred arms.

She appreciated the concern, but they were worrying over nothing. There was no way a dragon headmaster would botch basic cooking. Beneath his theatrical cruelty, that ancient lizard took his culinary arts surprisingly seriously. And while she felt a tiny pang of pity for the mushrooms, monster cuisine was undeniably delicious.

Most importantly, dishes this tricky to prepare were rare finds for her completionist food compendium.

"I promise I'm totally fine! It's not like this is my first time eating dangerous food anyway!"

Down the line, I'll need to chug a bowl of Hydra Venom Soup, which means I have to force down a thousand different poisonous dishes just to cap out my poison resistance stats! A harmless mushroom meal like this isn't even a warm-up!

She had intended it as an innocent reassurance, but for some reason, sniffles began breaking out across the lecture hall.

"...Why is her life so heartbreaking?"

"Is food so scarce on the frontier that children have to resort to eating toxic waste...?"

"N-no, that's a misunderstanding!" a frontier noble blurted out in a panic. "Even back home, things aren't that dire! Unless there's a catastrophic famine, not even the destitute would—"

"They don't have to be destitute," Zhuang cut in coolly from behind her fox mask.

The petite assassin narrowed her eyes. "In assassin lineages, fledglings are administered minute doses of poison and tainted rations from early childhood to build resistance. Though... it seems Orknodi's sect pushed that training to a horrific extreme."

Tears welled up in the students' eyes and spilled over their cheeks.

"Waaah! Orknodi is so pitiable, nya!"

"...I feel awful now," another student murmured, averting his gaze in shame. "Back home in the maritime kingdom of Florence, we always looked at assassins as creepy, soulless cutthroats. To think they endure such agonizing torment just growing up..."

"Well, at least she'll never suffer from arteriosclerosis."

The sudden, wildly tone-deaf remark instantly shattered the somber mood. Every head in the room snapped toward the speaker, who shrank back under the searing crossfire of glares.

"W-what? What did I say?" Horner Fried Chicken stammered, flustered by the sudden hostility. "Red Teeth Mushrooms are rich in ergosterol, which is exceptional for preventing vascular hardening. If you want pristine blood vessels, regular intake in moderate quantities is vital!"

As a scion of one of the Empire's Three Founding Noble Families, Horner Fried Chicken possessed an exhaustive education in the Mana Body Refining Method. The ancestral archives of the Fried Chicken household had long stressed the meticulous maintenance of one's circulatory pathways. In controlled dosages, even the deadly Red Teeth Mushroom served as a peerless medicinal herb.

Mastering high-tier physical conditioning inevitably placed supreme importance on the 'refining' process. Purging impurities and rejuvenating a stressed vessel required scouring the continent for exotic ingredients, which naturally cultivated an encyclopedic grasp of obscure biological trivia. These subtle advantages accumulated over generations to form a noble house's secret heritage.

In his haste to defend his logic, Horner had inadvertently leaked a proprietary secret of his lineage.

Unfortunately, not a single person present was in the mood to appreciate the tactical leak.

"Do imperial bastards have ice in their veins?! How could you spit out something so heartless at a time like this?!"

"Please do not lump all imperial nobility with that clan! The Fried Chicken family has always been eccentric like that! Our Iron-Plate Charcoal BBQ House has nothing to do with their callousness!"

To students who lacked any context regarding the mushroom's pharmacological value, Horner's lecture sounded like nothing less than cold-blooded mockery directed at a tragic frontier orphan.

In the span of a single minute, a vicious new rumor took root within the Upper Class.

The Fried Chicken House—a bloodline of cold-blooded monsters devoid of basic human empathy!

A clan of unhinged psychopaths who personally nurture tender chicks, only to slit their throats, pluck their feathers, eviscerate their organs, and plunge them into vats of boiling oil once they reach maturity!

It was a slanderous blow to Horner's reputation, but none of that mattered to Orknodi.

Most of the class was staring at her in slack-jawed horror, but she couldn't care less. She had just checked off two new Rare dishes in her codex!

She scraped the spoon clean against the bottom of the bowl, licking up every last drop of soup. As she smacked her lips in pure satisfaction, Son Ocheon stepped over and silently placed a heavy palm atop her head, gently stroking her hair.

She didn't entirely understand why everyone was looking so misty-eyed, but the warm patting felt nice. Letting out a cheerful little "Hehe," Orknodi leaned happily into the monkey beastman's rough, calloused hand.