Feeding Time
After sweeping up the dungeon rewards from Hegellina Krenkel—which, while somewhat expected, were still breathtakingly extravagant—we meticulously sealed up the entrance and emerged into the cool air. By then, evening was already falling.
"Pheeew..."
"The night breeze is so crisp and refreshing."
"More importantly, I'm starting to get hungry."
"I shall prepare a meal at once."
"Oh, wonderful! To be honest, my stomach has been growling for a while now!"
"I'll help too!"
The girls drank in the chilled air, smiling happily before bustling about in high spirits to get dinner underway.
"......"
Thud.
Watching them with eyes that couldn't comprehend such bottomless stamina, I collapsed flat onto the ground.
"Seriously, don't they ever get tired...? How on earth are they still that energetic?"
"Master, you ate the Permanent Flesh too, didn't you? How can you still be worn out?"
At the sudden question, I glanced down. Cacciola, who had been clinging to me with her face buried in my stomach, was staring up at me with wide, unblinking eyes. Perhaps because of their vivid green color, her irises caught the faint evening light and gleamed like a predatory beast's in the dark.
"That's a totally different matter. Sure, my body's overflowing with physical vigor, but my spirit is exhausted. I don't have an ounce of motivation left. Don't you feel the same?"
"Not at all. You're just frail, Master. Why don't you try training just a little bit?"
"Ha! Training? Me? Don't make me laugh. I already got stronger from the Permanent Flesh, didn't I? That's plenty."
"...You know, if you rely entirely on strength gained without any effort, you're bound to run into big trouble eventually."
"I have zero intention of relying on my own strength in the first place, though? Besides, you can just protect me."
When I patted her head, an awkward little smile tugged at her lips.
"...Could someone as pathetic as me really protect you, Master?"
"You can."
At my firm conviction, Cacciola pondered it for a second before vigorously rubbing her face against my belly again.
"Hearing you say that actually makes me feel like I can do it. It's strange."
"Glad to hear it."
"...Hey, does that mean I can undergo the trial now? If I become a Sword Master, I could protect you so much better..."
"......"
I narrowed my eyes at her, then delivered a sharp flick to her forehead.
Smack!
"Kyaagh?!"
"Whoa."
The impact produced an alarming, bone-rattling crack. As she let out a sharp cry, even I was taken aback.
"Wh-what was that for?! That hurt! That really huuurts...!"
"My bad. I didn't mean to hit you that hard. I guess I haven't fully adjusted to this new strength yet."
"Uuuugh...!"
Even while writhing in sheer agony, she stubbornly refused to let go, clinging to me with all her might.
"Hmm..."
Looking at her clutching her forehead, a strange sensation washed over me.
"So I really did get stronger, huh...?"
Even if Cacciola was an Aura Upper-Grade User, objectively speaking, that tier was already beyond human. We were talking about someone who could jump dozens of meters straight up into the air or effortlessly bust out squats while hoisting a boulder the size of a house. Of course, that was assuming she channeled mana to reinforce herself... but still. While my physical parameters hadn't reached quite that absurd height, the fact that I could inflict genuine pain on someone of her caliber felt completely surreal.
"Haaah..."
I clenched and unclasped my fist a few times, then let out a self-deprecating chuckle.
To be honest, it wasn't like I was ever going to march onto the front lines myself. Having this kind of physical prowess would basically serve no other purpose than putting up a slightly stiffer resistance whenever Muriel or Rebecca launched another full-body offensive in bed.
"Is there anything I can help with?"
"Ah, thank you. Could you perhaps help prepare the vegetables?"
"Yes! Gladly!"
Pushing idle thoughts aside, I idly watched the girls prepare the meal.
Muriel and Rebecca worked in seamless, brisk coordination, whipping up dishes at blinding speed. Vivian was having the time of her life tossing in arbitrary spices and seasonings without a care, while Cecilia looked on with sheer dread. Lampon Pashtra was eagerly volunteering for any chore she could find.
As for the rest, whether out of a desire to maintain their dignity or sheer culinary incompetence, they were merely relaxing and watching the spectacle alongside me.
"...I just hope whatever comes out of this is actually edible."
Muttering my modest hope aloud, I tipped back my flask and took a long swig.
Mercifully, the spread laid out before us was both lavish and remarkably appetizing.
I dipped a spoon into the pot, scooping up a generous heap of thick stew brimming with tender morsels. Laden with rendered fats and an assortment of rich ingredients, the hearty broth gave off a soothing, savory aroma.
"Aaaand here comes the stew airship, flying through the sky. Whoooosh~"
I lazily swooped the spoon through the air with a teasing grin. Nazareth Nemeth, sitting straight across from me in anticipation, flushed crimson and glared daggers at me.
"...Please do not play games."
"I have no idea what you mean. I'm deadly serious, you know. Picky little children will only eat their greens if you make it fun for them."
"I am not a picky eater!"
"Whatever. Open up."
"......"
She clearly had a mountain of retorts ready to burst from her lips, but in the end, she resigned herself to her fate and parted her mouth just a fraction.
Watching a stunning beauty open her lips was a picturesque sight in itself, but I had no intention of letting her off that easily.
"Uh-oh~ What's this? If you don't open wider, you're going to spill it all over the place~"
"Kuh...!"
Nemeth clenched her fists, trembling with humiliation. Gathering her resolve, she finally opened wide—wide enough that her plump, crimson tongue, uvula, molars, and glistening pink oral mucosa were laid bare for all to see.
"Whoa. That's actually pretty indecent, isn't it?"
"...Huh?!"
Her eyes went round with disbelief and sheer contempt. But before she could get a single word of protest out, I smoothly slid the spoon into her mouth.
"Mmph, slurp, chomp...!"
Sucking the broth off the metal by sheer reflex, she chewed on the contents with an intensely sulky expression.
"Good?"
"...Yes. It is delicious."
"Glad to hear it. Here comes the next spoonful."
The moment I raised another heaped spoon high into the air, a deep sigh slipped past her lips.
"Could you not simply feed me like a normal person...?"
"Nope. Out of the question."
"......"
Seeing her obediently open her mouth in complete defeat, I feinted back and forth, teasing her like a child playing keep-away with candy. Her expression twisted in indignation once again.
"...Lord Alzen. Nemeth looks quite pitiful. Why don't you ease up on the torment?"
Unable to watch any longer, Arpe finally intervened.
"Hmm. Fair enough. I was starting to get bored of it anyway."
With an airy reply, I began feeding her normally. Nemeth swallowed down every bite I offered with remarkable compliance.
"Sniff... It's so good. It really is delicious... I've never tasted anything this wonderful in my entire life..."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the fire, Lampon Pashtra was practically inhaling her food, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. It made sense. Not only had she lived the most impoverished life out of all of us, but she had also been trapped in that twisted village, likely without ever tasting a proper, warm meal.
"Sister, try this one too."
"This dish is really good as well."
"Sniff, thank you... I'll eat it with gratitude..."
The sight was so heart-wrenching that even the younger girls clustered around her, offering up portions from their own bowls.
"...Wait a second."
A sudden realization struck me like lightning, sending a cold shiver down my spine. My gaze drifted downward, locking onto her absurdly colossal bust.
Hold on... You're telling me those massive breasts were the product of severe malnutrition...?!
My jaw dropped in sheer disbelief at the terrifying truth. How did that even make sense? If she grew to that astronomical size while starved half to death, what on earth was going to happen to her once she started eating proper, three-course meals every day...?
"...Lord Alzen."
"Huh? Oh, sorry."
Brought back to reality by a chilly voice, I realized I had been mindlessly smearing the spoon all over Nemeth's lips. A sickening, foul stench wafted up—the smell of the stew rotting at an alarming rate the moment it came into direct contact with her cursed skin.
"Really, my bad. Let me wipe that off."
Muriel, ever attentive, silently offered a clean handkerchief. After murmuring my thanks, I gently dabbed the mess from around Nemeth's mouth.
"......"
Though her eyes were narrowed in clear displeasure, she obediently allowed my hands to clean her face.
"I said I was sorry. Don't look at me like that. Before long, you'll be able to eat with your own two hands again anyway."
"Those are... very comforting words. Truly."
With a faint sigh, she parted her lips, and I poured another spoonful of stew cleanly past them.
"Mmm, gulp... Conquering this dungeon has completely solidified my faith in your capabilities, Lord Alzen."
"Really? I don't feel like I did anything impressive."
"No. You showed more than enough. The sharp intellect required to wield vast knowledge with such flawless efficiency, the decisiveness to assess critical situations and make split-second calls... and even those formidable artifacts. If it is you, I feel confident entrusting the future of the Great Forest to your hands."
"I think you're overestimating me by a mile."
"My eyes rarely deceive me. If it is you, then without a doubt..."
She squeezed her fists tight. Rather than absolute certainty, her posture carried the desperate, fragile weight of a prayer.
...The mood had gotten entirely too heavy. Why did she have to go and bring that up now?
"...Hey, Nemeth."
"Yes?"
"Doesn't this stew look a little like that? You know, being all thick, white, and gooey?"
"Pardon...?"
Thrown off by the sudden change of topic, she tilted her head in utter bewilderment.
"What do you mean by 'that'...?"
"You know. That. Come on, don't play dumb."
With a wicked smirk, I swirled the spoon of thick broth right before her eyes.
"...? I truly have no idea."
Sensing an ominous undertone in my grin, she hesitated, then shook her head cautiously.
"Nothing comes to mind at all? Not a single thing?"
"...Mmh... No. Nothing."
"...Wait, are you a virgin?"
"...What?"
Her jaw went slack in blank astonishment.
"Where on earth did that come from...?"
"Usually, sexual harassment like this is only fun when the other person actually gets it and blushes, you know..."
"Sexual... harassment...?"
She repeated the words with furrowed brows, only for her fair, sun-kissed cheeks to abruptly ignite into a scorching, furious red.
Grinning from ear to ear with the most insufferably obnoxious expression I could muster, I continued to swirl the spoon back and forth.
"Do you get it now?"
"...Please stop."
"Man. To be honest, every time I poured the stew into your mouth earlier, it gave me the weirdest sensation. Watching that nimble tongue of yours swimming through that sticky, milky-white liquid was seriously..."
"Lord Alzen. May I strike you? Just once?"
"Nope. Denied."
Chuckling shamelessly, I scooped up another generous spoonful and held it out. Nemeth let out a long, defeated sigh before opening her mouth once more.