Your Majesty, Dinner Is Ready. - Chapter 150

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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 150 — Southern Continent Expedition: The Land of Delusion (5)
A dim underground chamber.
In this gloomy space where only scattered Magic Stone Lamps on the walls served as light, a young Wood Elf stood motionless.
Her trembling hands barely held the Dagger, while her vacant eyes fixed on the limp form of another Elf sprawled at her feet.
“Rosalia.”
“…Yes?”
Rosalia lifted her head weakly and met the gaze of whoever had called her name.
That familiar smile played at the corner of her lips.
The same composed posture, always at ease.
“So you’ve finally reached a level where you can work for me?”
Flora Brithes.
The eldest daughter of the Brithes Family, who administered the 4th District.
“This is the final stage.”
Flora gestured toward the fallen Elf with a tilt of her chin.
A Wood Elf with snow-white hair.
Rosalia’s twin sister, Liliana.
“Pierce her heart. Make sure she never rises again.”
“…….”
She couldn’t let her body shake.
If she showed fear, there would be punishment.
Crk.
Rosalia gripped the Dagger in a reverse hold and slowly bent down, straightening her sister’s body flat.
“…Roza.”
Liliana, Rosalia’s younger sister, laughed weakly.
“I’m fine, so hurry. At least you have to survive….”
“…….”
Her hands trembled.
All she had to do was thrust downward, but her arms refused to obey.
If she was discovered hesitating, disaster would follow.
The moment Flora sensed her reluctance, she would force Rosalia to stab someone else—someone she knew, someone she cared for.
So she had to kill.
“…Ugh.”
But her hands simply would not move.
Her fellow trainees from the Assassin Training Camp.
Close friends.
She’d already been forced to kill a grandfather from her neighborhood—but she didn’t want to kill Liliana too.
“…Still clinging to sentiment? You’re truly useless.”
Flora, who had been tapping Rosalia’s cheek with her fingertip, suddenly seized her wrist.
“Do it now. If you fail again this time, next it’ll be your mother and father’s turn.”
“…….”
“Answer me.”
“…Yes.”
Rosalia, barely managing to respond, tensed her hands.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry….”
Please forgive me.
She poured out apology after apology, her trembling hand raising the Dagger to strike—when suddenly—
“There’s no need for apologies.”
The Elf who had been lying there abruptly transformed into someone else entirely.
A Half-Elf whose golden hair and golden eyes were striking.
“I actually love having my heart pierced. The tingle that runs through my whole body is the best feeling.”
“…What are you! Who are you!”
Flora started back with a sharp cry, and the Half-Elf pressed a finger to her own cheek with a soft poke.
“I’m your sweet Kar.”
The Half-Elf then lay where she was and spread both arms wide as she gazed up at Rosalia.
“…….”
In that moment.
A fragment of Rosalia’s past flickered through her mind.
‘My strength drains away, so would you carry me? Thank you, always.’
That eccentric Socialite who had hurled herself recklessly at the alpha Bloodsucking Worm.
A Half-Elf who had acted as though being held was only natural—yet somehow had never seemed disagreeable.
‘…Kar.’
That was when Rosalia understood.
The truth of this cruel space.
“Rosalia! Hurry, stop this madwoman…!”
“…Quiet.”
Thud.
Flora’s head dropped to the floor.
“Sister.”
As if he’d been waiting for his moment, Kar spoke.
“Let’s go.”
“…Yes.”
Rosalia didn’t hesitate. She scooped Kar into her arms.
Crack-crack-crack!
The dim underground space collapsed around them.
Snow Mountain filled her vision once more, and her golden-haired Half-Elf companion and the others materialized before her eyes.
“Are you all right?”
“Sister!”
“You appear unharmed?”
……
Rosalia, who had been lying in the snowdrift, took Kar’s hand and rose to her feet with ease.
Merlin asked teasingly.
“Nothing to say? Especially to me!”
……
Rosalia cast a quick glance across her companions, then spoke softly.
“…Thank you.”
Whoooosh.
The blizzard was weakening.
***
In the heart of a remote village where a contagious Undead transformation epidemic had erupted.
A priest missing one foot was strangling the neck of a young priest who bore his likeness.
“Luxerion, Luxerion!”
Tears dripped steadily down his face.
His entire visage twisted and contorted.
“Why didn’t you carry the Infection Prevention Tool as I told you! Why, why, why!”
Luxerion made no resistance.
He had no right to.
For one who had become Undead and torn apart several villagers, he did not even deserve the right to repent.
“Die while you still possess a human heart!”
Even as his neck was being strangled, he could not suffocate.
Because he had become Undead.
Luxerion, now a cursed creature, had transcended the limits of a sentient being in a manner both grotesque and abominable.
“Just die, I’m begging you!”
If he were to use Holy Power, it would be simple.
He could kill him in an instant.
But the blue-haired priest did not. He only tightened his grip with his hands.
Thump, thump.
Tears streamed down his face.
Though he spoke harsh words intentionally, the blue-haired priest could not harden his heart.
‘Artein…’
His chest ached.
For he could only watch the one he held dear in sorrow.
He was tormented.
Because he himself was the source of this catastrophe—careless enough not to gather what was needed.
‘I am not worthy to stand at your side.’
Please, turn away from me, this sinner.
“Please stop for a moment.”
At that moment, someone who had drawn near spoke up without hesitation.
The blue-haired priest’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Who are you? You seem to be an outsider.”
“As it happens, I’ve come to strangle him in your stead.”
“…I beg your pardon?”
The blonde foreigner sprawled out beside Luxerion without ceremony.
“I’m rather difficult to kill, so please don’t worry and go ahead with the strangling.”
“…Me? Strangle you? Why would I?”
“Because it’s the only way both the strangler and the strangled can avoid feeling miserable.”
“I’m not doing this because I enjoy it—and besides, who are you to interfere in the first place!”
“I am a specialist in all manner of heart-weary and exhausting afflictions.”
As Luxerion watched the blonde foreigner’s absurd conduct, a scene from the past began to surface in his mind like a dream, rising up in hazy waves.
‘I don’t think I’ve lived a life pitiable enough to deserve such looks.’
The self-awareness of the Half-Elf who had lived a more sorrowful life than anyone else had not taken proper root.
An image all the more wretched for its numbness.
“…Artein.”
Whoooosh.
Holy Power poured forth from Luxerion’s body, filling all the space around him.
“I will atone steadfastly. I will not foolishly surrender to despair, but wash away my sins. For those like Kar who are cast aside.”
Brilliance stretched outward in all directions, swallowing the entire village in radiance.
Wrapped in that dazzling light, the blonde foreigner Kar reached out his hand from where he lay.
“Let us leave this dark past behind us.”
“…Yes, we should.”
Luxerion grasped the Half-Elf’s slender hand.
Crack-crack-crack!
Space shattered.
In the next moment, Snow Mountain spread out before them.
“Priest.”
As Luxerion lay in the snowfield, Kar’s face came into his view.
“It is time to wake.”
“…I’ve certainly slept well.”
Luxerion rose confidently with Pendrick’s support.
Uuuuhhhhm!
The moment he stood, he restored his companions’ minds to clarity.
The role he had failed to perform until now while foolishly being tossed about by hallucinations.
“Thank you for your patience, Kar.”
Whoooosh.
The snowstorm began to subside all the more.
***
A nauseating stench permeated the Black Magic Laboratory.
“…Aaaaagh!”
Bartimir, bound to the experiment table, cried out.
His body thrashed about wildly.
“The Undead Commander brain transplant is a failure.”
The Black Mage wiped the blood from the small blade and pointed at the demon-type being’s forehead.
It had already been deeply incised, and fresh blood continued to flow without cease.
“Assistant, heal him. We proceed to the next experiment immediately.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Uuuugh!”
“By the way, Demon-Type Being 227 has far too much vitality.”
“What if we removed his vocal cords while we’re at it?”
“Not a bad idea.”
The Black Mage wrapped Magical Energy around the small blade.
“After all, there’s no one worth conversing with anyway, so his voice isn’t really necessary.”
“Exactly! The other test subjects tend to avoid him too. He’s the type who’d have lived alone his whole life even if he weren’t a test subject.”
Bartimir’s fists clenched tight.
Anger rose, but no words of refutation came to mind.
Because it was an undeniable fact that he was a loner.
‘I am alone in this world.’
No one would befriend a demon-type being with terrible scars covering his entire upper half, including his face.
It was lonely.
But he had to endure it.
It would be an emotion he would carry for the rest of his life.
“Remove the vocal cords and transplant the Psychic Resonance Organ from a Magical Beast commander specimen. Let’s try that.”
“Oh! How ingenious of you!”
“…Hmm?”
The Black Mage’s brow furrowed.
Bartimir’s eyes were wide open.
Between the blood trickling down his forehead, that savage, undiminished gleam still burned in his gaze.
“Come to think of it, Demon-type Being 227’s parents were just as violent. The mother especially was a handful.”
The Black Mage hurled the small blade away and reached for his Staff.
“She made such a fuss about how we should pay more because the creature was healthy….”
“But you gave far too little, so what choice did we have?”
“……?”
The Black Mage, gathering Magical Energy into his Staff, and Bartimir, twisting his body for another exchange, both widened their eyes in unison.
The large assistant had become a slender, golden-haired Half-Elf.
“As her mother, I must tell you: my daughter’s worth cannot be measured in gold coins.”
“…Who are you? How did you get in here?”
“Is that truly the pressing question now?”
The golden-haired Half-Elf continued with unwavering resolve.
“And my daughter was not bullied. She bullied all the other test subjects by herself.”
“…Whoever you are, I’ll start by melting that loud mouth of yours.”
Huum.
Magical Energy coalesced at the tip of the Staff.
“If you please, melt her from the feet upward, slowly. That way you can savor the sensation of life strangling itself by degrees.”
“…….”
The Half-Elf prattled on without the slightest regard for the Black Mage’s murderous aura.
As Bartimir stared blankly at this strange golden-haired Half-Elf, a familiar, pleasant voice suddenly rang in his mind.
‘You may call me anything you wish. “Leader” or “mongrel” would be fine. If appearances don’t matter to you, even “mother” would do.’
…I remembered.
“Hnngh!”
Crack-crack-crack!
Bartimir tore through the Dark Magic bindings constricting his body with raw strength.
He yanked the gag from his mouth and hurled it at the Black Mage, shattering his left shoulder.
“Argh—how is this…?”
“I’ve been wanting to do this for real. Guess I’m doing it inside the hallucination instead?”
Bartimir drove his fist forward without hesitation.
Rock Shattering Technique.
A Combat Mystery centered on the pulverization of enemies.
Boom—!!
Sharp Magical Energy scattered in all directions, obliterating the laboratory entirely.
Satisfied, Bartimir turned his body with a laugh.
Beside him stood Kar, hand extended, wearing that peculiar smile that reached only the lips.
“Let’s go home. Our daughter.”
“Yeah—!”
Crack-crack-crack.
Space shattered in an instant, and Bartimir returned to Snow Mountain.
His eyes met those of his companions, looking down at him where he lay in the snow.
“Are you all right, Bartimir?”
“Mom—!”
The Demon-type Being lurched to his feet and charged recklessly toward Kar.
The frail Half-Elf couldn’t withstand the collision and tumbled backward to the ground.
“Bartimir! What are you doing!”
“Ah. I’m surrounded by Negative Concepts, so my strength’s gotten out of hand, hasn’t it?”
“Even so, this is—!”
“Merlin, I’m fine. My bones may be cracked a bit, but that’s a meaningful experience in its own way….”
“Ah, you seem perfectly sound.”
— You certainly do seem intact.
“Wait… but Captain, you’re bleeding from your mouth?”
This conversation.
The warmth of these voices in my ears.
This exchange with my companions.
The people I’d thought were strangers when I was test subject Demon-type Being 227—these companions—were here with me now.
“I am not alone—!!”
Bartimir shouted into the empty air with all his might.
Whiiiiii….
The blizzard was weakening to little more than a gentle breeze.
***
“Bartimir.”
Pinned beneath the snow, I smiled with the cunning grace of a socialite.
It was time to end the climb.
“Strike Snow Mountain with everything you have. Pour all the negative concepts we’ve accumulated into this one blow.”
“Got it!”
Bartimir sprang to his feet and immediately twisted his torso, driving his fist forward with all his strength.
A single strike brimming with overflowing Magical Energy.
Crash-boom-boom-boom!
Snow erupted skyward with the force of reaching the heavens themselves.
A tremendous explosion of pure white snow, as though a Dwarf-made bomb had detonated.
“Wow! The blizzard has stopped!”
Immediately after, the relentless heavy snow that had poured down until now ceased.
The sharp, cutting wind no longer howled around us.
The sky remained gray, but Snow Mountain had grown peaceful.
“We’ve done it.”
I looked around at my exhausted companions and continued.
“Snow Mountain can no longer torment us. We’ve completely escaped the Land of Delusion.”
Our reality had not crumbled after all.
“You’ve all endured much hardship. But now that we’ve overcome it safely, your pasts are no longer sources of suffering.”
Once a trial is conquered, it must be left behind.
There is no reason to experience meaningless hardships that have already lost their value, is there?
“Through today’s ordeal, the Moon Expedition Party has become immune to attacks that leverage memory against us.”
Those who escape Snow Mountain’s Land of Delusion unscathed gain a degree of resistance to Secret Arts that exploit memory to pressure the mind.
Hard-won rewards for our suffering.
This alone would make our expeditions considerably smoother going forward.
Of course, we haven’t yet seized the ‘Objective’ of the Southern Continent Expedition.
“Let’s move again. There are small tasks we must attend to while the Eyebeam Bear Love Guild brings the expedition leader back safely.”
“What kind of tasks?”
I quietly lifted the iron chain attached to the leash.
“We need to go somewhere that requires ‘Throwing Kar into the pit.'”

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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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