A Runaway Villainess, Now Healing In An Enemy Country - Chapter 13

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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【Chapter 13】

‘What a delightful sight she must think she’ll witness.’

Nishe held the belief that ordinary people should live ordinary lives outside the castle.

He drew a clear line between inside and outside the castle, between those like himself who seemed neither human nor anything else, and ordinary people.

“Kid, are you really going to live here?”

At the question that somehow sounded strangely like permission, Coco nodded her head vigorously in response.

“Yes, yes! I’ll do my best to stay as quiet as if I were dead! And I don’t have anywhere else to go back to…”

She had only been staying at the inn where she did odd jobs; Coco had no home to return to. She had no family except for her sick mother.

In that sense, Winter Castle was not a bad place to work—aside from the sinister rumors, it was actually ‘quite decent.’

In fact, Coco was more afraid of the innkeeper’s son who used to take all her wages than the man before her (contrary to rumors of being a hideous monster, he just looked like a person!).

“I-I’ll definitely make delicious food today!”

“…Sure, go ahead. Don’t come crying to me later when you regret it.”

“Thank you!”

Coco bowed so deeply her head nearly touched the ground, then disappeared into the kitchen saying she would prepare breakfast.

‘Is she timid or bold? What kind of kid is she.’

Clicking his tongue, Nishe entered the dining room.

The scene was not just desolate but downright gloomy. It was probably because there was no light brightened by Irene’s magic.

Feeling somewhat awkward, he bit into yesterday’s bread that Irene had left uneaten.

“Ptui! Damn, what is this!?”

—He immediately spat it out.

For some reason, his tongue and nose had become sensitive. Sensitive enough to perceive the bread he always ate as tasting like slightly soft stone.

It was surprisingly cold and tasteless.

“Ha.”

There was only one person who would do such a thing.

“I’ll restore your taste buds with magic.”

Irene Baltres.

Recalling last night’s conversation, Nishe immediately understood why she had collapsed from mana depletion.

He also understood why she always complained that the meals were terrible, that living on just this food would kill her.

Chewing the bread again, he laughed at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Wow, I really.”

He could actually smell potatoes, something that only existed in old memories.

Come to think of it, the strange feeling he’d been having every time he breathed in the air was probably smell.

“…What are you doing? Like some pervert.”

Just then, Juansi, who had come to the dining room carrying a basket of fresh bread, frowned at the sight of Nishe.

With his gaunt appearance, he looked less like a butler and more like, as Irene put it, an office worker suffering from overtime.

“I forgot a new cook had arrived and made it the usual way. It would be a waste, so please eat it.”

“Hey.”

“Do you need something?”

Nishe showed kindness by picking up fresh bread from the basket Juansi had placed on the table and offering it to him.

“You don’t know yet. Try eating this right here.”

“Pardon? I’ve already set aside my portion.”

“Quickly.”

Nishe giggled suspiciously.

Though dubious, Juansi followed his words.

“…How is this.”

And he spat the half-chewed bread into his palm.

“Hahaha! It tastes fucking awful! Haha!”

“…”

“You said you were confident in cooking? You’re a complete fraud! You’ve been scamming us because you couldn’t taste anything anyway!”

“…I couldn’t help being taste-blind, no. More importantly, what did you do? How exactly did your senses return?”

Nishe pointed at the bread master’s bewildered face and burst into laughter.

“So that’s why you were obsessed with meals. This is really funny.”

Sensory degeneration was a side effect of the abilities they possessed.

That power, which belonged neither to divinity nor mana, was close to heresy. It was natural that the constitution of vessels containing such strange power would change strangely.

So he had no complaints about being unable to feel any sensation, smell any fragrance, or taste any flavor.

Or perhaps he was closer to being unable to complain?

“I want to eat veal steak for the first time in a while.”

“…I’ll need to procure ingredients.”

In any case, one thing was certain.

A magical transformation was coming to Winter Castle, which had been left abandoned in time.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the castle wall.

“…”

Davuer touched his forehead where it had briefly made contact with Irene’s. The winter wind brushed past him, but as always, he could feel nothing.

However, just moments ago.

Just a little, just slightly. So subtly that he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been concentrating, yet more clearly than anything.

He had felt some warmth from the touching skin.

Since the day he had taken the Magi into his body, he couldn’t feel anything touching his skin, let alone warmth.

At the center of this absurd anomaly was Irene again.

‘Is this the cause?’

The half-god who could only see and hear read the magic circle entangled with exceptionally complex spells.

Though trivial for something manifested by abandoning even his own body, it was high-level magic requiring advanced computational skills.

Irene had deployed it almost perfectly.

Yes, this gourmet magic was ‘almost’ perfect.

‘There’s an error.’

The former Mage Tower master, whose entire body was filled with Magi instead of mana, discovered a small hole in the spell.

If left uncorrected, his subordinates would soon be able to sense touch itself ‘normally.’ Normally, even without the condition of eating.

They would shiver from cold and feel pain.

But at the same time, they would also be able to feel the warmth before a fireplace and the sensation of snow melting at their fingertips.

That might not be such a bad result.

Davuer decided to simply remain silent about the small but fatal error in the magic circle.

He could hear the grumbling of the woman who had left warmth behind.

“How long will you keep calling it an abandoned castle…”

“…Irene.”

The name he unconsciously pronounced scattered in the wind.

With his recently acquired habit, he sat at the edge of the castle wall and quietly gazed at the snow-covered mountain.

As always.

As if he felt nothing.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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