The Devil's Disease (2)
"If I catch you sneaking into the kitchen again, you'll be cut off from your allowance for a while."
"I apologize."
After the monumental 1,000th time I’d been caught, my mother scolded me as usual. Then, suddenly, she let out an awkward cough, as if she’d just remembered something.
"Ahem. I misspoke. I mean, if you enter the kitchen again..."
"..."
It seemed she had just realized that, unlike Freya, I wasn't in a position to receive an allowance.
"If you enter..."
Mother trailed off. Her pupils shook as if they were caught in an earthquake. Unfortunately, she had just remembered that she had no suitable punishment to control me. To be precise, she still had the option of corporal punishment, but that was a choice my loving mother could never bring herself to make.
Her eyes wandered, lost and awkward. Having tried to squeeze out some terrifying penalty, she finally seemed to resign herself and pulled out her trump card.
"...I will cry."
"?"
"Every time you step into the kitchen, I shall skip my meals and cry alone in my room."
Oh. That’s a heavy one.
"...I apologize. I will be careful from now on."
I bowed my head toward my mother, who was already reaching for her handkerchief. I knew why she was reacting this way. Even without that, I was a thorn in her side. A eldest son who couldn't leave behind good memories in his childhood and lacked even the talent of a mage. To her, it must have seemed like I had no means to survive while maintaining my social status other than becoming a son-in-law to another family.
'Just because I own a massive merchant guild doesn't mean I can maintain a noble position.'
A giant merchant guild could receive treatment "equivalent" to nobility. But it was only similar treatment; it was not the same as being a noble. Unless there were special circumstances, capital could never overwhelm status. That was why my mother seemed so desperate to marry me into a proper noble family, even if it meant I had to be a son-in-law. To do that, a good image was essential. I had to be a young man who was scholarly, well-mannered, and had a good reputation in high society. That was the only way a good family would take me in.
But cooking? In noble society, cooking was the work of servants. Even if it were a hobby, what noble child would hold a knife and carve meat themselves? Furthermore, it was organ meat. The eldest son of a Baron, personally preparing parts that only the slums ate. If word got out, the marriage talks would surely fall through.
'Even if I tell her to trust me, a parent's heart can't help but worry.'
I knew I was the protagonist. And now, I was even a disciple of the Great Sage. So, I could push forward with the alchemy route with confidence. But my mother didn't know those facts. So, I could understand her desire to make me a son-in-law a hundred times over. If there was anyone at fault, it was me for hiding these things.
"Hoo..."
Mother let out a deep sigh. Then, she muttered as if to herself.
"In a few years, you'll be at the age where you need to find a fiancé, too."
"Yes... I suppose so."
"Then you should start being more self-restrained."
"Understood. I will be careful."
I bowed my head obediently. However, though I was truly, deeply sorry to my mother, I had no intention of stopping my cooking. In fact, when she brought up the engagement, I became even more convinced that I needed to hone my culinary skills.
'The things others don't do are exactly the areas worth pioneering for a protagonist.'
That’s the grammar of the genre. A protagonist's uniqueness stems from doing what others don't. Like how the heartless Northern Grand Duke falls helplessly for the rural young lady farming with dirt-covered hands, or how the arrogant Crown Prince becomes obsessed with the desserts of a young lady who bakes cookies.
The analogy is a bit "romance novel-ish," but anyway, it means that as much as nobles avoid cooking, it's worth capturing as my character trait.
'I'll have to redraw my routes so I don't get caught...'
Still, as a son, I couldn't let my mother soak her handkerchief alone in her room. So, starting tomorrow, I decided to show a little sincerity and aim for sneaking into the kitchen more discreetly.
'I have been walking in too openly until now.'
For starters, I should try entering through the back door instead of walking down the hallway. I pointed to the wide main door that connected the interior to the kitchen, pressing my sincerity into the gesture.
"From now on, I will not use that door to enter."
It was a truth that didn't contain a single speck of a lie before heaven. Because I wouldn't be using that door. Anyway, it was the truth.
But perhaps my sincerity was too intense. Instead, my mother's gaze wavered.
"..."
Mother kept her mouth shut for a moment. Then, she opened it cautiously.
"...Once in a while is fine."
"?"
"It's all for your own good, but I'm worried you might be struggling too much. About once a month... I'll turn a blind eye."
Mother's voice softened. "I'm truly sorry for stopping you from doing what you love."
"..."
Faced with my mother's blind affection, even welling up with tears, I had no choice but to bite my lip. Somehow, I felt like I had become a burning filial son rather than a protagonist.
***
Anyway, a promise to my mother is a promise. But that didn't mean I shouldn't eat the food I'd made. Tonight's dinner was Tartare de cœur à la moelle. Translated into Korean, it's beef tartare. However, this one was accompanied by butter-scented bone marrow and a bit of attention paid to the plating. I sat in my designated seat and spoke to the guest who had arrived before me, sitting on my right.
"You washed your hands, right, Eri?"
"O-of course, Teacher."
Eri, who was in a state of high tension, replied. By her original status, Eri couldn't be sitting in this seat. There was no way she, a mere assistant in an ambiguous position who wasn't even a formal bodyguard, could sit at such a family dinner. But my father often invited Eri to these meals.
'That means he recognizes Eri's talent that much.'
When nobles of this world discover a promising mage, they go beyond personal sponsorship and invite them to dinner. They eat the same food, drink the same wine, and build ties. This is because mages are highly likely to create new families or join existing ones. In some cases, families are bound by adoption or marriage. Considering that, an invitation to dinner was not particularly special treatment.
'That's why I prepared six dishes today.'
The person in question was still struggling to adapt to such treatment, though. Perhaps finding her appearance pitiful, my mother, sitting across from us, spoke up.
"Erika, please, be comfortable."
"Y-yes! My Lady!"
Mother's effort to make her comfortable didn't have much effect. She replied with her back as stiff as when she had just come up from the Limbus Pit. However, there was one thing slightly different from then. It was the fact that she, too, was fully understanding her own value.
'She said she's also learning the mindset of a mage from Department Head Shen.'
What Eri was learning from him wasn't just simple practical experience. She was also learning how mages, and furthermore, high-level mages, were treated socially, and how to react while receiving that treatment.
"T-thank you for inviting me! Master of the House!"
Although learning and practicing are two different things. Since this was a part that time would solve, I left her be and tried to focus on the meal. Just then, my father, who had entered the dining room last, opened his mouth.
"Julian."
"Yes, Father."
"Did you make tonight's dinner as well?"
"...Did Mother tell you?"
"If you intend to hide it, why not change the type of dish and the plating? Is there any other chef in the world who serves raw meat on a bone besides you? And it's reached the point where it's faster to count the days you don't."
Hmm. Even Father caught me on this. But plating was a matter of great importance, so I couldn't compromise.
"Phew... You're at an age where you'll have a fiancé soon, and yet you're still doing this... You're a bright child, so I'm sure you'll manage your own affairs, but..."
Father clicked his tongue, lightly rubbing his brow. Still, seeing as he didn't directly yell at me to stop, it seemed he had half-given up, unlike Mother.
Father sat at the head of the long table and spread his napkin over his knees. Mother put a bib on Freed, who was sitting next to her, and spread her own napkin over her lap. I followed suit.
"Eri. You shouldn't fold your napkin."
I instructed Eri, who was trying to follow along by glancing sideways. Before eating, I scanned the table where all my family members were gathered for the last time. One empty seat caught my eye.
"Come to think of it, I don't see Freya today."
At my question, the butler, who was helping with the meal preparations, bowed lightly and replied.
"Ah, the young lady said she would eat separately in her room today. She has had a slight fever and a cough since the afternoon."
"A cough? Is it a cold?"
"Yes. Perhaps because the seasons are changing, she seems to have caught a cold. She decided to eat in her room today, fearing she might pass it on to the others."
Aha, a cold. That child's colds were like an annual event. Whenever the seasons changed, she would invariably catch one. 'Did she ever have the measles or something?' I wasn't at the main estate when Freya was young, so I didn't know well. But seeing her catch colds so often, it seemed quite plausible. The reason measles is scary is because the measles virus erases all memories of the immune system. That's why people who have had measles once are vulnerable to colds for several years afterward.
'Or maybe she just has a constitution that catches colds easily.'
However, this cold seemed a little different from the others.
"But this year's cold seems a bit severe. She's not just coughing; she can't even get out of bed."
Hearing that, I thought it might not be a cold, but the flu.
"Did you call a healer?"
"I did. They should arrive once dinner is over. Are you going to go see her?"
"Of course I should."
It's not that I don't trust healers. In a world without doctors, their skills are excellent enough to perfectly replace them. My reason for observing was purely to watch their healing magic.
"Once dinner is over, I'll take something for her to eat and go up."
"Indeed, it's best to avoid raw meat dishes like this when one has a fever. I'll tell the chef to send up some warm soup."
Father nodded calmly and picked up his fork.
"Our chat has gone on too long. Let's eat."
I also smiled lightly and picked up my fork.
"Yes, let's eat before it gets cold. Oh, before that, as the chef who made this dish, may I say a few words?"
Then, suddenly, an interesting line came to mind, and I stopped my fork. Father looked puzzled but nodded. While everyone had stopped their forks, I received the gaze of my family and delivered my pre-meal greeting.
"I never serve a dish without soul. So please, savor it with yours."
***
"Hamburger! It's like a hamburger!" With Freed's bright shout, the meal ended very satisfactorily. Father and Mother, who were initially startled by the fact that it was a heart dish, were busy moving their forks in silence after tasting one bite.
"It's amazing. It's an organ dish, but there's no fishy smell at all."
"This aroma... is it butter? Hmm? Bone marrow? You know some fascinating cooking methods."
It seemed both of them liked the dish. For reference, Eri ate it well from the start. She was a child who had even shoved her head into a bucket filled with blood. A dish made of a mere heart could never upset her stomach.
"Lick."
"Eri. Stop licking the bone."
"Ugh. But this is the real deal."
With that, the satisfying dinner ended. I smiled lightly and wiped my mouth with a napkin.
The servants cleaned up the dining room after the meal. I received a tray containing warm chicken soup and herbal tea that I had ordered from the kitchen in advance.
"We could have done it..."
"No, it's fine. I'll go myself to check on Freya's condition."
I didn't forget to pack my medical bag, just in case.
"Then, I'll go check on Freya."
"Yes, please do. If her fever is high, let me know immediately."
"Yes, Father."
Leaving Mother and Father behind, I walked along the quiet second-floor hallway, carrying the tray. Freya's room was located at the end of the second-floor hallway, on the opposite end of my room.
Knock, knock.
"Freya. May I come in?"
There was no answer. Instead, a strange voice came from inside.
— "Please come in, Young Master."
I knew immediately that it was the voice of the healer Father had called. I opened the door and stepped inside. Upon entering Freya's room, I saw the guest. Beside the canopy bed where Freya was lying, the healer's face, looking down at her, was stiff.
"How is she, Sister?"
"Th-that is..."
A single strand of brown hair, soaked in sweat, poked out from between the female priest's headscarf. Her veil was also soaked in sweat, showing at a glance how much strength this priest had poured into Freya. The priest opened her mouth with a troubled expression.
"It is... strange. I clearly cast healing magic, but the fever won't go down."
"It won't go down?"
"Yes. Rather..."
I glared at the priest. The priest was startled and prostrated herself before me.
"I-I apologize! Please, spare my life...!"
"..."
A priest who fails to treat a noble can end up in danger of losing their life. Especially if the priest doesn't have any special connections. That was why I had been misunderstood like that when I was wearing the crow mask.
"I swear to God, I did my best!"
"...Do you have any divine power left?"
"Th-that is... only a very small amount..."
It was a place without any sacred symbols, and furthermore, it was night, not day. She probably cast a heal once or twice and her divine power hit rock bottom. I met the eyes of the priest, who was constantly checking my reaction. And then,
"For now, try to gather your divine power while praying. I will look after my sister in the meantime."
"Pardon?"
"Let's just say I'm a... healer-in-training. I know how to look at these things, too."
I took the place of the flustered healer and pressed my body against the canopy bed, from which shallow breathing could be heard. Freya was lying there with her blanket pulled up to her chin. Her half-closed, hazy eyes were turned toward me.
"...Bro...ther?"
"Freya. Can you talk?"
"..."
No answer came back. I examined Freya's face closely. Beyond her half-closed eyes, I saw hazy focus.
"Freya. Try opening your eyes."
Slowly, her eyes opened. Eye response: 3 points.
"Where are you right now?"
"...I don't know."
Slow, but she answered. However, there was some confusion. Verbal response: 4 points.
"Try holding my hand tightly."
Her slender fingers gripped my hand weakly. She followed the command. Motor response: 6 points.
'Total score: 13. Mild disturbance of consciousness.'
13 out of 15 isn't at a dangerous level yet. But a simple cold or flu shouldn't cause a decline in consciousness. In other words, this was clearly an abnormal situation.
'Let's check the fever first.'
I placed the back of my hand on her forehead. I took a mercury thermometer out of my medical bag and tucked it under her armpit.
'What the...'
The thermometer fluctuated between 39 and 41 degrees Celsius.
"When did you cast the healing magic?"
"About an hour ago."
"You said the fever hasn't gone down since then, but has it gotten worse?"
"...Yes. I think so."
I examined Freya's face again. Her cheeks were flushed reddish. It looked like she was flushed because of the fever. But.
Poke.
"Umm..."
Even when I pressed lightly with my index finger, it didn't turn pale. Normally, the pressed area should turn white and then turn red again. 'Non-blanching erythema...?'
It wasn't a simple cold reaction. As that fact flashed through my mind, my gaze turned to Freya's half-closed eyes.
"Freya. Let me see your eyes for a moment."
I carefully lifted Freya's eyelids. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot. The entire conjunctiva was covered in red capillaries. However, there was no eye discharge.
'Conjunctival injection without discharge.'
It was a physical symptom indicating systemic infection. I thought it might be vasculitis, or perhaps sepsis.
After that, I examined her entire body one by one. Dry lips. Fingernails turned blue. Her pulse was racing, and I could hear wet sounds in her breathing. And, a hard lump could be felt in her left abdomen.
'Her spleen is enlarged...'
Countless infectious diseases passed through my mind. Measles? Pertussis? Smallpox?
Just then, the priest, who had been praying quietly in the corner, stood up and said.
"I-I have recovered a little. Now, one more time...!"
The moment I saw that, what I had recently learned from my master flashed through my mind.
— "Julian. Healing magic isn't just about 'Heal'. Healing magic also has principles and types..."
Before I could even recall all of my master's words, I headed toward the female priest. And I grabbed the wrist she was about to extend toward Freya and said.
"Stop there."
"Pardon?"
"I said stop. Unless you intend to kill Freya."
"What do you mean..."
I looked down at Freya, who was gasping for breath, and said.
"It's the Devil's Disease."
"What?!"
"Freya is currently suffering from the Devil's Disease."