Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: A New Plague
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If a new plague were ever recorded in the imperial calendar, the people would call it the "Red Craving."
The symptoms of this disease were bizarre. There was no fever, no coughing.
Just a sharp, tingling pain that clawed at the tip of the tongue, followed by a flash of mental clarity.
At first, everyone was quite puzzled by the arrival of this thing that brought pain.
The evening at the capital's common tavern, "The Whistling Boar," was abuzz with discussions about this strange phenomenon.
"I just can't understand it! My lifelong creed has always been that food should be enjoyable. So why are these days' folks so desperate to pay good money to set their tongues on fire?"
Middle-aged merchant Gerald, who dealt in spices, grumbled as he tore into a greasy chicken leg.
Marcus, an off-duty city guard sitting across from him, chuckled and set down his ale mug.
"You haven't experienced that awakening yet, have you, sir? It's not just simple pain."
"If it's not pain, then what is it? Drooling like a fool isn't a normal reaction!"
"It's an explosion of sensation."
Marcus's eyes took on a distant gleam.
"Imagine coming down from the walls after a day in the cold wind, your body frozen stiff, and eating that bland stew. But the moment you drop in a single drop of this red sauce, everything changes."
"A thrilling shiver strikes the tip of your tongue and spreads through your whole body, waking up senses that were numb from the cold. Suddenly, you taste the sweetness of all those vegetables in the bland stew, and even the hard bread tastes nutty. It's not a meal—it's a ritual. One that makes you feel alive."
A few patrons drinking nearby nodded quietly at his passionate speech.
Tavern owner Otto chimed in from behind the counter as he wiped a glass.
"Marcus is right. At first, everyone cursed it just like you. 'Why eat this crap?' But come the next day, they'd all come crawling back asking, 'Hey, Otto, got any of that fiery sauce left?'"
"Hmph. There's always fools chasing fads. They'll come to their senses soon enough."
Gerald scoffed all the same.
Marcus then carefully pulled a small glass vial, about the size of a medicine bottle, from his pocket and showed it off.
Inside was a deep red liquid.
"Then see for yourself, sir. It's my last emergency ration, but I'll gladly part with it for a seeker of truth."
Marcus dipped the tiniest amount—less than what would stick to a toothpick—onto a piece of bread and held it out to Gerald.
Gerald's pride was wounded, but with every eye in the place on him, he reluctantly took it and popped it into his mouth.
"...!"
In the next instant, Gerald's pupils shook violently, as if struck by an earthquake. His mouth gaped open, but no sound came out.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and he gripped his water glass without realizing it.
"Gah, kuh...! W-What... is this...!"
"So, what do you think, sir? Feeling a bit more awake?"
Marcus asked with a mischievous grin.
Gerald heaved ragged breaths several times, then forced a dignified cough, his face flushed red.
"Ahem, hum! Indeed... utterly crude and barbaric taste. Not something I'd touch again."
He delivered his harsh verdict decisively.
But his trembling fingertips and the unconscious smack of his lips betrayed him to Marcus's eyes.
"Well then, I suppose I should be off."
Gerald settled his bill and stiffly rose from his seat.
Just before stepping out the tavern door, he glanced back and murmured to Marcus.
"...So, where did you say one usually gets that crude stuff? For market research, you see."
Anyone who tasted this phenomenon even once was inevitably infected.
They all craved the same thing, all sought it out.
"Arrabbiata sauce is sold out?! Get the manager out here! Do you know who I am?!"
A caravan deputy who wouldn't have batted an eye under normal circumstances lost his reason and bellowed in front of a grocer's shop.
"Hey, you scholar! Cutting in line is low, isn't it?!"
"Not from the loser of a logical debate! I discovered this sauce first!"
Scholars, the sort you'd expect to see only in quiet libraries, were brawling undignified over the last bottle of sauce.
And the nobles, who should have been exemplars of dignity, were even worse.
"Is that how you speak to me, butler?!"
An elderly marquess with snow-white hair slammed his fist on his gleaming mahogany desk.
His face, twisted in impatience, was unrecognizable as that of a man who had lived his life by strict etiquette.
"If there's no Arrabbiata at tomorrow's banquet, I'll be the laughingstock of the capital's high society! Word is the princess herself enjoys that flavor!"
"My apologies, my lord. The Argentis Merchant Group says their stock for the week is completely sold out. Even applying pressure in our house's name yielded nothing—they're hiding behind their priority contract with the imperial family."
"The imperial family, the imperial family! Damn that imperial family! Then send someone to the black market! Cost be damned! If you don't procure some right now, you're fired!"
They mobilized all their power, sending agents to the back doors of the Argentis Merchant Group, and on the black market, a single bottle of genuine Arrabbiata fetched dozens of silver coins.
Such social phenomena had occurred to some extent when Tomato Sauce first appeared, but the problem was the scale of the chaos was entirely different.
In the midst of this turmoil, at the capital guard barracks, a veteran captain and a rookie were catching their breath after patrol.
"Captain, today we arrested three more over sauce fights. It's nothing like the Tomato Sauce days."
The captain pressed his throbbing temple and replied.
"Different, it is. Back then, it was happy chaos with everyone laughing about how tasty it was. Now it's hellish, with bloodshot eyes and people charging at each other."
"Why is that? Both are delicious, aren't they?"
"The first was satisfaction that fills the belly. This is addiction that hits the head. Satisfaction brings people together; addiction makes them selfish. Damn, at this rate, they might even ban the sauce."
Indeed. If Tomato Sauce brought happiness to people, Arrabbiata brought pleasure.
Happiness grows when shared, but pleasure is something you want to hoard.
This Red Craving was burrowing into the empire's deepest corners, awakening the primal human desires that lay dormant.
And those waves would shake the world, reaching even the utterly unexpected.
Once more, the Papal Palace.
The Pope closed his eyes and placed the sauce on the tip of his tongue from the saucer.
The first sensation was the familiar, deep flavor of tomato. Just as a faint smile began to form on his lips...
"...!"
A moment of silence. A sharp, intense pain incomparable to before struck his tongue.
"Th-This flavor...!!"
It was as if a burning ember had landed on his sacred tongue—a blasphemous sensation.
The Pope's serene face twisted in shock.
His eyelids, always half-closed in benevolence, trembled and then snapped wide open.
Within those eyes swirled bewilderment, awe, and the light of incomprehensible pain.
"H-Holiness! Are you alright?! S-Surely this is...!"
As the cardinal rushed forward crying out, the Pope raised a hand to silence him.
"Aquila... Cardinal..."
"Y-Yes, Holiness!"
"This is... a trial."
"A trial, you say? As expected of the devil's...!"
"No."
The Pope cut off the cardinal decisively.
He closed his eyes again, feeling both the lingering afterimage of pain on his tongue and the ecstatic flavor blooming beyond it.
"This sharp pain is like a scourge whipping the tongue—a trial punishing our complacent palates tamed by worldly tastes. But... behold, Cardinal. See what remains in the wake of that trial's flames."
The Pope scooped up a larger amount of sauce this time and brought it to his mouth without hesitation.
His brow furrowed for an instant, but serenity soon returned.
"The tongue, grazed by pain, awakens far more sensitive than before. The pure sweetness of the tomato, the nutty aroma of garlic—they come through far more intensely and vividly than with the previous sauce! It's just like... how a single piece of bread tastes sweeter than any feast after a grueling fast of prayer!"
His eyes flashed open. They shone with the brilliant light of one who had discovered a new truth.
"This is no devil's temptation! This is a new form of the Penance Feast bestowed by the Lord! It is His profound will, granting us greater grace through suffering!"
"P-Penance Feast, you say...?"
Cardinal Aquila asked in confusion. It was an interpretation utterly beyond his common sense.
The Pope rose from his seat, his face radiating the conviction of a leader who had found a clear answer to the Red Craving chaos sweeping the capital.
"People lose their reason and fight over this flavor because they fail to grasp the Lord's will within it, chasing only worldly pleasure. They crave the reward without understanding the meaning of penance."
He walked to the window and looked down on the noisy streets of the holy city.
"That is our role, Cardinal. To imbue this Penance Feast with its true meaning and guide the lost sheep back to the righteous path!"
The Pope turned and issued a solemn command to the cardinal.
"Proclaim a papal decree. Declare that this Arrabbiata sauce is no tool for personal indulgence. Let it be known to all that it is a sacred provision to be consumed during Penance Week or the eve of major holy days, for reflecting on one's sins and feeling the Lord's grace more deeply."
"Y-Yes? Holiness! But it's already spread so widely in the markets...!"
"That is why the Papal Palace will buy up all the Arrabbiata sauce in the capital. Then, under the Church's strict oversight, distribute it only to the faithful on designated days. Through controlled penance, the people will at last learn the true meaning of gratitude."
It was a truly astonishing shift in perspective.
He had transformed an addictive luxury good causing social chaos into the perfect religious tool to bolster the Church's authority and control the faithful.
"And..."
The Pope paused, gazing wistfully at the remaining Arrabbiata sauce on his desk.
"Those of us clergy, who must guide this Penance Feast rightly, must understand the depths of its penance first and foremost, must we not?"
"Er... y-yes... of course?"
"All sauce procured by the Papal Palace will first be used for the clergy's research and training. Of course, with the utmost strictness and piety."
At his final words, Cardinal Aquila wasn't sure whether to reply "Amen" or simply shake his head.
One thing was certain: the Holy Father was thoroughly delighted with this new training method he had discovered.