The Genius Perfumer of the Fallen Cult - Chapter 1

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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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The Genius Perfumer of the Fallen Religious Order Episode 1

Chapter 1: Lily of the Valley of Sangbertal

There was a perfumer who created fragrances that would never exist again in this world.

The leader among the Inquisitors who had pursued her shouted in front of the Last Temple of Varin, God of Crossroads and Stars.

“Sinner Prim! Open the door!”

Though fierce shouts came from outside, the woman walked toward the altar inside the temple as if she couldn’t hear those sounds at all.

Bloody footprints trailed behind her in scattered dots.

Finally, she stood before the altar.

A faceless angel statue lay split in half, cluttering the altar.

Before it, she collapsed to her knees as if falling.

She spoke in a choked voice.

“…Varin.”

The god forgotten by all, whom no one had called upon for a long time, did not answer her now.

“Is it because I took the wrong path? Is that why I’m receiving this punishment?”

Her cheeks were continuously soaked with tears.

“If so, if so, then why not me but Rozien…!”

She raised the perfume bottle clutched in her hand. Her trembling hand shook the pale liquid inside the bottle as well.

Prim saw in that rippling liquid the phantom of a young man with red hair. Even the sight of him collapsing while scattering red blood like his own hair.

At the same time, the voices from outside that had been growing louder finally smashed through the temple door.

CRASH!

The Inquisitors who burst inside with the clanking sound of armor shouted.

“Sinner Prim! Don’t move!”

Prim recognized the face of the leading Inquisitor.

Sebardo Rickhart, who served Yulberon, the god of justice and pride.

He was the one who used to recommend that Rozien become a knight while by his side. Saying several times that Rozien had exceptional talent.

However, his face looking at her now was stained with miserable resentment.

“By the command of Yulberon of justice and pride and the arrangement of His Holiness the Divine Seat, we arrest the sinner Prim!”

Sebardo drew his sword. It was overlaid with a God-Blessed Fragrance, proving that he had come here by divine command.

“The crime of monopolizing perfume ingredients and oppressing secular perfumers, hindering Demon Beast Subjugation, the crime of inciting Rozien Ardor to commit various crimes, the crime of finally pushing Rozien Ardor into mortal danger and inducing his death! And lastly, having created a Scent That Kills People, you are unqualified as a perfumer! Therefore, we Inquisitors confiscate said perfume and arrest the sinner to Luminoxia Aila!”

The sword tip the Inquisitor pointed was trembling. His aged face looked almost as if it were pleading.

Prim quietly thought about the charges they recited.

Their words were right.

Instead of bringing her into the light, Rozien had fallen underground himself, reigning as lord of the caverns. It was for the things she had desired, though not demanded.

Moreover, Rozien couldn’t even leave behind a corpse at the end of his journey to obtain the perfume ingredients she desired.

What returned to her was only the desired ingredients and a handful of red hair.

And the perfume completed through that sacrifice was now held in her hands. Filled with fragrant deadly poison, having refined none of the toxicity from the ingredients.

Prim thought.

There was no longer any reason to continue anything.

Finally, the sunset completely passed and the surroundings became as quiet as death.

“Sinner Prim…!”

Before they could finish their urging words, Prim opened the cap of the bottle in her hand and threw it away.

The exquisite cap made by the empire’s finest glass artisan shattered into pieces as it hit the floor, emitting a final faint light before being swallowed by darkness.

“It would be better not to come close.”

Prim said as she lifted the bottle.

Right then, that ‘Scent That Kills People’ began spreading from the bottle.

The first thing felt was the rich fragrance of white flowers that seemed nauseating.

The intense fragrance held by white flowers that bloom to greet the night, crushed and rotting.

Through it flowed a clear green fragrance like spring water. A clear and clean fragrance that purified the surrounding intensity and awakened the mind, a refreshing fishy smell that washed everything away.

The moment an earthy scent rose as if one had fallen in a garden thick with early morning dew, a warm woody fragrance that embraced it all bloomed. It was a fragrance where acidity and sweetness mingled together like fruit and chocolate crushed in a bowl made of old wood.

Even the Inquisitors unconsciously softened their expressions at that fragrance.

“This is exactly like being in the middle of a garden where all kinds of flowers wither and bloom simultaneously…”

Someone muttered absent-mindedly before hastily covering their mouth and nose with their sleeve.

Only Sebardo shouted without lowering his sword.

“Prim! Stop it!”

However, Prim poured that perfume over her own head.

Everyone just watched, unable to understand the scene. Sebardo suddenly shouted as if he had been struck.

“No, no! No, Prim!”

It was more like great despair rather than anger at the sinner’s actions.

Transparent green liquid flowed down over Prim’s closed eyes, wetting her like tears. The fragrance that had only been pleasant became sickeningly intense.

As this fragrance filled the collapsed temple, Prim distinguished each ingredient she had put in one by one. It was what she had done all her life.

Jasmine, Black Currant Buds, just a little Lily, Lily of the Valley of Sangbertal, and Agarwood Resin from an old tree wounded by demon beasts…

And before long, Prim collapsed, vomiting blood. A stabbing pain like needles swimming through her blood vessels consumed her entire body. The knights couldn’t bring themselves to approach her.

As Prim died in her own fragrance, she recalled her very early childhood. The days when she rode on Rozien’s back, going through forests and picking flowers were faint.

Nothing has meaning if he doesn’t return…

That was the moment. Light slowly budded from the perfume spilled on the altar, and soon streams of light split apart, filling the collapsed temple.

Instantly darkness lifted and dawn arrived, with fluttering sounds heard from somewhere. It was like the sound of a huge flower bud finally bursting into bloom. It seemed like a giant cloak fluttering, and also like the sound of an angel’s wingbeats.

As brilliant instrumental sounds echoed, a voice was heard from within the heart or from beyond.

It was the voice of god, softly vibrating as it filled from the ears to the depths of the lungs.

— Oh, little lily of the valley! Great power dwells in great fragrance, for I have descended!

It was a mysterious voice that sounded like plucking strings or ringing several small bells simultaneously.

Prim’s body, which had been collapsed on the floor, slowly rose. As if god were washing a lamb, the blood that had soaked Prim’s body was washed away, and Prim could open her eyes.

Even while being seized by death, Prim captured the god’s appearance in her eyes.

In a time that was neither day nor night, dozens of crossroads spread behind the god all shone in various colors, and each path was lush with flowers and trees.

Only the god’s face could not be discerned, as if covered by a veil.

Varin, who seemed to have made the Inquisitors frozen like specimens into his angels, spoke magnanimously.

— Little lily of the valley, look upon me. Your fragrance has made me so strong, so I shall bless your fragrance and grant what you desire.

The air trembled softly. Only the god was vividly alive within the deadly beautiful fragrance that killed people.

“…Then please bring him back to life.”

Though she had never dreamed of meeting a god, even in this unimaginable situation, those words flowed out as if they had been waiting.

The god’s voice responded.

— I can bring him back to life, of course. But lily of the valley, is that truly your wish?

Two branching paths appeared before Prim.

— I can either revive him at this very moment, or I can let him reclaim what he had lost.

On one path, brightly bloomed red roses swayed gently in the breeze.

And on the other path, those roses became smaller, younger, their extended stems contracted, returning to small red buds that had just sprouted. As if time had rewound.

— Now, my lily of the valley. Which way will you go?

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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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