The Possession-Spoon Chef Feeds the Empire - Chapter 31

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 31
“…….”
“I cannot starve all these children based on your word alone.”
Unlike when she’d eaten the Sweet Potato he’d baked for her days ago, topped with Butter and Herbs, his gaze had turned sharp.
Looking behind him, she saw several participants and their parents staring openly at Luciel, their eyes full of reproach.
As if asking why she wouldn’t let them eat a perfectly good Stew.
“……I’ll make a Stew too.”
Luciel answered after a brief pause.
“Everyone can choose what they want to eat. The Chef Master did taste it earlier, so I doubt anyone will actually die from eating that Stew.”
She spoke plainly.
According to what her mother had told her, the effects of such substances usually amounted to nothing more than an urgent need for the bathroom.
Deadly in a competition, but impossible to prove—that sort of thing.
Yes.
Those who wanted to eat could eat. Those who didn’t, didn’t have to.
Come to think of it, protecting Bael was the immediate priority here.
If he ingested something strange and lost his strength, a trip to her mother’s Vegetable Garden would be out of the question.
If everyone already trusted Lenar, there wasn’t much she could do.
“That’s a dangerous proposal.”
The Duke spoke.
“I know.”
“If those who eat your Stew perform poorly, everyone will think your food unlucky going forward. There’s no guarantee you’ll keep your position as a cook here.”
“I understand.”
“If no one chooses your cooking, or only one person does, that would be equally fatal to your reputation as a chef.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
‘How famous was I, anyway?’
I’m fourteen years old.
I have more than enough confidence to start over.
There’s something far more important at stake now.
“Heh.”
A faint smile played at the corners of the Duke’s mouth—one that suggested amused interest.
“I knew you were bold, but…….”
“M-My Lord!”
Just as the Duke was about to reach a conclusion, Lenar suddenly dropped to his knees and cried out.
“I cannot accept this! I refuse absolutely!”
“……You refuse? Even if it is my will?”
“J-Just because of one brat, my Stew…….”
Lenar gritted his teeth and voiced his protest to the Duke.
Tense, a cold sweat rolled down his neck, and his eyes darted toward Osborn before snapping back into place.
“My pride will not allow it! If I must do this……, I, Lenar, may even leave the Duke’s Household.”
It was a desperate gambit.
A Chef who had managed the Duke’s meals for twenty years, staking his profession against the Duke himself.
For him to go this far, Osborn must have made some rather terrifying threats about the importance of not failing this time.
Because if all the other participants ate Lenar’s Stew but Bael slipped through, the situation would be impossible.
‘That’s not all.’
If all participants in the Hunting Competition suffered the same symptoms, the cause would be difficult to pinpoint.
‘They could simply insist the problem lay with the Hunting Grounds or the Competition itself, not the food.’
But if only the participants who ate Luciel’s Stew remained unaffected, suspicion would immediately fall on the Soup.
That’s why he was protesting so desperately.
“Lenar.”
The Duke’s eyes went cold and hard. Lenar’s trembled all the more violently.
“I value those who have served me long. I do not hastily cast out even those whose skills have faded.”
He spoke.
“But I do not favor those who threaten me. And I have never yielded to a threat in my life.”
“I-It’s not a threat……!”
“I will decide. Luciel too shall be permitted to make a Stew.”
He declared.
“Each person will choose what they wish to eat.”
“My Lord!”
“This is a competition that Lenar and Luciel have chosen for themselves.”
The Duke continued, ignoring Lenar’s pleas.
“The chef who prepared the Stew eaten by the victor shall win. The winner remains; the loser must leave this Manor. Both must bear the consequences of their own words.”
“Understood.”
“……Yes, my Lord.”
Unlike Luciel, whose answer came briskly, Lenar’s voice had sunk low.
As he lifted his head, their eyes met.
Seeing the resentment blazing in Lenar’s gaze, Luciel smiled faintly.
He had much to lose; she had nothing. He was desperate; she was not.
She was not afraid of the outcome.
Silence hung for a moment, then the Corridor erupted into urgent whispers.
“Hey, you really shouldn’t eat that, right?”
“What do you mean? How do we know her food isn’t even more dangerous?”
The participants exchanged comments they made sure everyone could hear.
“Mother, which one should I choose?”
“Well, that’s obvious……, wait, give me a moment.”
Parents could be seen furrowing their brows, looking troubled at the thought of what to feed their children.
“We have to eat Lenar’s Stew. If we don’t, our child won’t have luck.”
“Right. The champions always ate it, and if our child is the only one who doesn’t…….”
“But if you think about it, haven’t the people with the worst scores every year also eaten the same food?”
“Well……, even so, it’s probably safer than that girl with no background.”
Step.
As the murmurs and confusion swelled, Theo moved quietly.
Dressed immaculately in Hunting Clothes that lent him an unexpected nobility, he walked without a word and positioned himself calmly behind Lenar.
Every eye in the Kitchen swiveled toward him.
“Oh, Theo’s standing behind the Chef. Then I should…….”
“That seems safer. Even Jisol’s going that way, and Osborn wouldn’t make a dangerous choice.”
One by one, the participants lined up behind Lenar.
Most of them. Including the direct line of the house.
‘Can’t be helped.’
Luciel frowned slightly and turned her head to check who stood beside her.
Bael.
‘At least I can get Bael to eat my food, so that’s……, huh?’
Glancing behind him, Luciel blinked several times.
Standing beside her was not Bael alone.
Celine was right behind Bael, pressed close.
And behind her stood Dale.
At a slight distance, Lenar stared at the two of them in astonishment.
“Why are you two here?”
Bael asked them curtly.
“Well, it’s nothing really, but…….”
Celine ignored Bael and spoke to Luciel.
“Just felt sorry for you. Thought I’d eat some to help. I don’t believe in Stew luck anyway. No curiosity or anything like that.”
“Same here.”
Dale said, folding his arms.
“Waste is a pity, so we came. Make plenty, then. You probably can’t measure portions anyway, so we’ll eat it for you.”
“…….”
Luciel found herself momentarily at a loss for words.
‘……That sounds like a lie.’
Since they were family, it reminded her of the expressions Bael or Cain made when they lied about not being hungry.
‘Status Window.’
She gave the command in her mind.
‘Check their hunger levels.’
Pop—
Small glowing letters materialized in the empty air.
[Celine Bellaon — Current Status]
Hunger: ★★★★★
Duration Without Food: 4 hours 12 minutes
Special Note: Currently in denial
[Dale Bellaon — Current Status]
Hunger: ★★★★★
Duration Without Food: 3 hours 47 minutes
Special Note: Swallowing saliva while imagining food taste
“Hm? Why aren’t you getting to cooking instead of standing around? I can eat something else if needed.”
“Right. We don’t expect much, but we still can’t starve, right?”
Shameless, both of them.
Yet in a strange way, it was a relief.
Three people were better than one.
And above all, she could feel the gaze of Osborn from a distance, his mood visibly souring.
The enemy’s misfortune was one’s own fortune.
Luciel turned with newfound cheer and stepped into the Kitchen.
Three servings.
Excluding Bael, the other two—she had no idea why they’d come—but that made three servings.
Thirty minutes was more than enough time.
She lit the fire and pulled out the Cutting Board.
First, preparing the Venison.
This was the stage where strength mattered—to soften the rough meat.
‘Status Window.’
Pop—
‘Activate Special Function. I rested earlier, so do it properly now.’
The Status Window flashed red several times, then cast gleaming letters into the air.
[Special Function Activated: ‘God’s Blade Tip’ has been activated.]
※ Warning: Accelerated body enhancement depletes Mana at increased rate. Function duration: 08 minutes 14 seconds.
“Eight minutes is more than enough.”
Luciel took a deep breath.
The moment she gripped the knife handle, a thrilling sensation surged from her fingertips.
Over the once-blurry surface of the Venison, sinew and white membrane that needed to be cut away suddenly materialized in three dimensions.
As she raised the Kitchen Knife, the air in the Kitchen shimmered faintly.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tang—!
A burst of explosive sounds that pounded the Cutting Board like thunder rocked the entire Kitchen.

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