The Class That Completes the Taster
I was hauled away just like that. To be precise, it was less being dragged and more being transported. One arm was wrapped in Bellina’s silvery threads, while the other was seized by Luciel’s deep-blue magic. The floor beneath my feet had turned into a sticky swamp, and Brunhilde stood silently at my back. Ahead of me lay fifteen plates. And fifteen beasts.
I pried my fingers off the doorknob with great effort and spoke.
“Kids.”
“Yes.”
“Let me go.”
“We can’t.”
Ophelia answered with impeccable politeness.
“Second period has already begun.”
“Does this look like a class to you?”
“It is a cooking class.”
“Then why do you suppress the taster with armed force the moment he tries to run away in a cooking class?”
“Because the taster attempted to neglect his lesson.”
“You demons…”
“Correct.”
She was so brazen I had nothing left to say.
I turned to Elena with my last shred of hope. The model hero. My first disciple. A bright, upright, and kind child. When she was small I had held her hand and taught her the alphabet; before I taught her how to grip a sword, I taught her why we protect people. If it was Elena, surely—
“Elena.”
“Yes, teacher.”
“Don’t you think it’s wrong to force someone to eat a meal they don’t want?”
Elena blinked once. Then she thought about it—seriously, gravely. The sight gave me the faintest spark of hope.
“That’s true.”
“Right?”
“Yes. I believe you shouldn’t force anyone to eat.”
I was saved. As expected of Elena. My righteous disciple.
Then Elena beamed and added, “So I’ll help you eat it of your own free will, teacher.”
“…”
“You just need to sit down.”
“…Elena.”
“Yes?”
“You were a beast too.”
“Huh?”
Elena looked genuinely puzzled. That pure innocence felt unusually cruel today.
“I will seat him,” Brunhilde said curtly.
“Brunhilde, wait. Why does ‘seat him’ sound like an execution order?”
Instead of answering, hands clamped down on both my shoulders. The next instant I was deposited at the head of the long table prepared for sixteen—the seat that looked suspiciously like the place of honor.
No, “deposited” is too gentle. I had been fixed in place.
Serena and Elena stood at my sides; Brunhilde loomed behind me. A short distance away Luciel had opened her grimoire, and Bellina’s threads circled my wrists just tightly enough not to hurt. The swamp Tethys had created had returned to ordinary flooring, but I knew: if I tried to run, it would become a mire again.
“All of you,” I said slowly. “Who prepared this banquet hall?”
The children exchanged glances. Ophelia flipped through her documents and answered.
“It is listed under basic corridor facilities.”
“Why do basic facilities include a sixteen-person banquet hall?”
“It is explicitly designated as a necessary facility for the Returned Students’ Co-habitation Adaptation Course.”
“What does co-habitation have to do with a sixteen-person banquet hall?”
“Meals are the core of communal living.”
“That’s… not technically wrong, but…”
Ophelia smiled with perfect courtesy. I hated that smile. It was too precise.
“Teacher.” Elena lifted her spoon first. “Please try mine first.”
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“You can still turn back.”
“From where?”
“From the path of the beast.”
Elena blinked again. Then she spoke with sincere reluctance. “But teacher, you have to eat.”
“…”
It was the correct statement. An impeccable argument. People must eat. Teachers must eat. Without proper meals you cannot last a day. There was no flaw in the logic.
The problem was that every single dish was “good for the body,” and the direction that “good” was taking was painfully obvious.
“Just one bite.”
“Yes.”
Elena smiled brightly. The stew on the spoon approached my lips. Warm steam, gentle aroma, perfect balance of meat and vegetables—an almost suspiciously normal dish.
“…”
In the end I opened my mouth. The stew slid in. It was delicious. Truly delicious. Warm, soft, and carrying no burden. It felt like warmth was seeping into a body that had been crumpled on the staff-room sofa after too many sleepless nights.
“Is it good?” Elena asked, eyes sparkling with expectation.
I couldn’t lie. “…It’s good.”
At those words Elena’s face lit up like the sun. Seeing that smile, I froze.
Ah. This is dangerous.
Not the food. The children’s happy faces were dangerous. Once I saw those expressions, refusing the next bite became nearly impossible.
“Then please try mine as well.” Serena naturally ladled out soup.
“Wait, isn’t the order moving a little fast?”
“It’s light, so it’s fine.”
“I feel like the type of burden is different.”
“It’s the kind you need, teacher.”
“Who decided what kind I need?”
Serena simply smiled. She didn’t answer. Not answering was the answer.
The soup entered my mouth. It was gentle, soothing. The heat inside me grew a little clearer.
“…Serena.”
“Yes.”
“This is a recovery dish, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“The direction of recovery feels off.”
“You require recovery in many aspects, teacher.”
“I never knew ‘in many aspects’ could sound so terrifying.”
“Teacher.” Serena quietly checked my forehead. Her fingertips were cool, yet that coolness only made the heat inside me feel sharper.
“Your complexion has already improved.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It is a good thing.”
That certainty was frightening.
Brunhilde silently sliced meat onto my plate.
“Eat.”
“Brunhilde.”
“Protein.”
“I heard that already.”
“You need to hear it again.”
“Hearing it doesn’t increase the requirement.”
“Eating it does.”
“What does?”
Brunhilde looked at me. I didn’t want to read the answer in those gray eyes.
“Don’t say it.”
“Understood.”
The meat was delicious—lean, perfectly marbled, growing richer with every chew. The problem began at the third bite. Instead of growing heavy, my body strangely lightened. Fatigue melted away. Strength flowed into my muscles. And—
“Ah.”
I set the spoon down.
“This won’t do.”
“Why?” Luciel asked quietly beside me.
“My body is becoming far too functional.”
“A positive development.”
“There are situations where that is not positive.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
Luciel thought for a moment. “But Rowell’s survival rate has risen.”
“While the chastity defense rate has plummeted, I suppose.”
“That requires separate calculation.”
“Don’t do it.”
“Already done.”
“Luciel.”
“It’s low.”
“I told you not to say it!”
Luciel gave a small, calm smile. That serenity made it even scarier. In the meantime Ariel held out a salad.
“Heavy dishes have continued, so let us lighten things for a moment.”
“Ariel, you really are salvation.”
“Not yet.”
“Could you please remove that ‘yet’?”
Instead of answering, Ariel offered a wooden bowl. I took a cautious bite. My mouth felt refreshed; everything inside me seemed to settle into order. It was genuinely normal food.
No. It was food pretending to be normal. After being deceived several times, I could tell. Nothing in this corridor was normal.
“Your body feels lighter, doesn’t it?” Ariel said.
“Yes.”
“A lighter body is good for moving a long time.”
“…”
I slowly lowered my fork. “Ariel.”
“Yes, teacher.”
“You’re a beast too.”
“If that is what teacher wishes to call me, I will accept it.”
“Don’t accept it.”
Laya could no longer endure. She was half-risen from her chair.
“Honey! Eat mine too!”
“Laya, wait. That mountain of meat isn’t an amount one person can finish.”
“It’s fine! I’ll eat it with you!”
“Then why bring it to me?”
“Hehe~ I want to watch you eat it, honey!”
“…”
It was too honest to argue against. Laya brought the meat to my lips. The aroma was incredible—insanely good. Saliva pooled on instinct.
“One bite.”
“Really just one bite.”
“Okay.”
The moment I bit down I had to admit it. It was delicious. Unfairly delicious. Primal. When the juices burst across my tongue my mind went blank for a second.
“How is it?” Laya’s eyes sparkled.
“…Delicious.”
“Right?” Her tail wagged furiously. I wondered if a person could smile with such pure joy. No—she wasn’t a person. She was a lion beastkin.
“Honey.” Laya’s voice dropped a little. “Eat a lot.”
“Why?”
“So you can last longer.”
“Why do all of you keep trying to make me last longer?”
Laya answered with her usual bright “hehe” laugh, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Because it’s good.”
“…”
“If teacher lasts a long time, we get to spend more time together.”
It was simple. And because it was so simple, it carried absolute sincerity.
Valeria’s plate came next.
“It is this king’s turn.”
“Royal meals feel a bit burdensome.”
“There is no need to feel burdened. Teacher deserves the finest treatment.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but right now it’s terrifying.”
Valeria pushed the plate forward regardless of what I said. A royal nourishing dish. Even the scent was different—strong spices that never crossed into excess, glossy red sauce. I took a careful bite and closed my eyes.
“…It’s good.”
“Of course.” Valeria smiled with satisfaction. “It is dragon-kin royal cuisine. Food that allows even a frail body to endure the king’s feast.”
“Could you stop calling me frail?”
“Then a precious body.”
“Slightly better.”
“A precious body must be properly managed.”
“Bad again.”
“Teacher.” Valeria looked down at me with arms folded. “Do not regard yourself too lightly.”
“…”
“The fact that this king deems you precious is not this king’s delusion alone.”
Sometimes—only sometimes—Valeria struck directly like this. Arrogant, self-centered, speaking like a king, yet the words inside were so straightforward they were impossible to refute. In the end I looked away.
“Next.”
“Hmph. You’re embarrassed.”
“Next!”
Tethys’s soup followed.
“Let us rest for a moment.”
“Tethys.”
“Yes.”
“When you say ‘rest,’ you really mean rest, right?”
“For now.”
“…”
I drank the soup she offered. The heat inside me strangely organized itself—not fading, but sinking deeper, like a fire burning beneath the water’s surface.
“How is it?”
“Comfortable.”
“I’m glad.”
“It’s comfortable, but my desire to run away seems to have decreased.”
Tethys smiled softly. “That is a good thing.”
“…It isn’t.”
“You are still holding on above the surface.”
“So you intend to drag me under eventually?”
“Someday.”
I looked for a water cup. Bellina was already quietly offering one.
“Thank you.”
“Please drink slowly.”
“Bellina, I can trust you, can’t I?”
“This girl only wishes for master not to strain himself.”
“Really?”
“Therefore we must manage your body so you may stay a long time.”
“Why does the destination keep heading that way?”
Bellina did not answer. She simply opened a lunchbox. Neat rice, orderly side dishes. Before I even tasted it I knew: too neat, too soft, too meticulous. Bellina watched me with hands clasped together.
“Does it suit your palate?”
“Yes. It’s really delicious.”
For the briefest instant Bellina’s eyes trembled. Very, very slightly. But I saw it. I had seen that expression before—when she was first praised for the threads she spun, when I first told her her nest wasn’t ugly.
“…”
Damn it. As expected, I’m weak to these children. The problem was that they now knew my weakness far too well.
Irel offered spirit-style fruit.
“Teacher.”
“Yes.”
“You can eat this lightly.”
“Why does ‘eat this lightly’ sound so dangerous?”
“The wind chose the fragrance.”
“The wind was suspicious earlier too.”
“This time it’s well-behaved.”
I ate the fruit. It was refreshing. At once the heat inside me spread gently.
“…Irel.”
“Yes.”
“Did the fire miss you?”
“A little.”
“A little?”
“A little a lot.”
“Your wordplay has improved.”
Irel laughed—fresh, clear, utterly innocent. Yet inside me a heat that did not match that innocent face was already spreading.
I honestly wanted to refuse Mirabel’s dessert.
“Teacher.”
“No.”
“I haven’t said anything yet?”
“It’s dessert.”
“It’s delicious.”
“The effect?”
“It makes you feel good.”
“That’s the problem.”
Mirabel lifted a small tart. “Just one bite.”
In the end I ate it. It was sweet, but not cloying, carrying a faint floral note. And my mood… really, just a little… improved.
“Ah.” Mirabel smiled. “Your expression relaxed.”
“It did not.”
“It did.”
“I said it did not.”
“I’ll save it in my dreams~”
“Delete it.”
“I don’t want to.”
Yes. She was a beast after all.
Roselia offered a glass of red liquid. I looked at it with eyes that had already surrendered.
“It’s not blood, right?”
“It is not.”
“Really?”
“If teacher wishes, I will prepare it separately someday.”
“I do not wish for it.”
I drank carefully. It was refreshing and sweet. I felt my complexion returning—literally.
“Roselia.”
“Yes.”
“Did my face turn red?”
“A little.”
“Is that because of the food?”
“It may not be the food alone.”
“Don’t say such things so politely.”
Roselia smiled quietly.
Astella held up a cake as though she had been waiting. The moment I saw her I spoke.
“The most dangerous one has arrived.”
“That’s too much.”
“Isn’t it?”
“It is dangerous.”
“Don’t admit it…!”
Astella smiled and lifted her fork. Seeing her smile like that, I ate the piece she offered. It was sweet. The flavor ran deep. And the heat inside me suddenly gained a clear direction.
I slowly set the fork down.
“Astella.”
“Yes.”
“You really didn’t use your ability?”
“I did not.”
“Then that’s even worse.”
Astella smiled.
Asteria finally offered her own plate.
“Eat.”
“Why do you all use the imperative when feeding me?”
“Would you eat if I asked nicely?”
“…”
“Teacher. Please eat.”
“When you say it like that it’s hard to refuse.”
“I know.”
In the end I ate. Demon King’s Castle formal course—heavy, deep, hot. Strength surged through me. My body instinctively adjusted its posture to endure. I tried to turn my head, but Ophelia held out the final plate and I barely managed to reach out and eat it.
Surprisingly, it was truly delicious. Neat, perfectly balanced, never excessive.
“It’s good.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s suspiciously normal.”
“Restoring abnormal trust through normal meals is also a valid method.”
“I feel like your true intentions are mixed in there.”
Ophelia merely smiled.
Like that, I ate everything. To be exact, I ate a little of everything. But it was fifteen people’s worth of food. Even small portions added up. And every dish had been good for the body. Too good.
My body felt light. Fatigue vanished. My insides were comfortable. Strength flowed through my muscles. My complexion improved. Body temperature rose. My mind was clear. And—
In the direction I least wanted to acknowledge, my body awakened.
“…”
I covered my face with both hands.
“It’s over.”
It was truly over. My own body had betrayed me.
“Teacher.” Serena’s voice reached me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not all right.”
“Where do you feel discomfort?”
“You all know best.”
A brief silence. Then Astella burst out laughing, unable to hold back.
“So cute.”
“I’m dying. I’m really dying.”
“We fed you so you wouldn’t die.”
“That’s the biggest problem.”
Laya pressed close. “Teacher, your scent changed.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I like it.”
“I said don’t say it.”
“Okay. I won’t say it.”
Even as she spoke her tail wagged wildly. Her face was not one that intended to stay silent.
Luciel murmured, “Heart rate elevated. Body temperature elevated. Breathing pattern altered.”
“Luciel.”
“Yes.”
“Stop recording.”
“Ophelia is recording.”
I looked at Ophelia. She was already writing.
“Ophelia.”
“Yes.”
“Tear it up.”
“The original or the copy?”
“There’s a copy?”
“Of course.”
“Demon.”
“Correct.”
Asteria rose slowly. The air in the banquet hall changed. The playful heat sank, replaced by heavy silence.
“Teacher.”
“What.”
“Is it difficult?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. It was difficult. Of course it was. My body burned, my mind was clear, the situation was hopeless, and there was no escape.
But… did I hate it? Truly?
I stopped and thought before that question.
“Teacher.” This time it was Elena. Her face was slightly tense. “If you truly hate it… please tell us.”
Serena was watching me. Brunhilde’s hand had left her shield. Luciel’s magic had loosened. Bellina’s threads, Tethys’s floor—everything had eased a little.
Ah. These children. They do not cross the line. If I sincerely told them to stop, they would truly stop.
That was a relief. And at the same time, it was the cruelest consideration imaginable. Because I could not say the words to make them stop.
“…It’s hard.”
I finally spoke. The children paused. I closed my eyes and added, very quietly,
“But… I don’t hate it.”
The banquet hall fell utterly silent. I wanted to pretend I hadn’t said those words. But it was already too late.
“Cancel what I just—”
“Recorded.”
“Ophelia.”
“Yes, teacher.”
“You’ll die if you record that.”
“We have the saintess, so it’s fine.”
“It is not fine.”
Ophelia calmly hugged the documents to her chest.
“Teacher’s official statement: It is hard, but I do not hate it.”
“It is not official.”
“There are fifteen witnesses present in the banquet hall.”
“All the witnesses are accomplices.”
“I will record that point as well.”
“Don’t.”
At that moment the children who had been holding back finally burst into laughter. Elena laughed with a flushed face. Serena covered her mouth. Laya nearly pounced only to be caught by the scruff by Brunhilde. Mirabel stamped her feet on the desk. Astella looked utterly satisfied. Roselia quietly lowered her gaze. Tethys smiled gently. Valeria stood with arms folded, wearing the face of a victor. Asteria looked straight at me.
“Well said.”
“…”
“Now you no longer need to hide.”
I covered my face. It was over. Before I could be eaten, I had already lost once. And as if to prove that defeat, the heat inside my body grew clearer with every passing second.
Second Period: Cooking Class
Specially Curated Dishes That Teacher Rowell Likes
Taster: Rowell Ackerman
Only then did I understand the timetable’s true meaning. The goal of this class had never been cooking. It was to complete the taster.
And once the taster was completed, he would immediately proceed to the next practical session.