Your Majesty, Dinner Is Ready. - Chapter 53
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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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Chapter 53: No Other Way to Say It
Pletica had a tram that circulated through six districts.
A reasonably comfortable mode of transport powered by Magic Stones.
Convenient as it was, the exorbitant fare made one hesitate to board.
Yet when one earned a fortune, surely a bout of unplanned luxury and excess was warranted.
“Oh, quite swift, isn’t it?”
Pendrick, cradling Astrímia in his arms, gazed out the window with a grin.
I stood beside him, breathing in the lingering scent of Abel’s Flowered Lake—what little remained of it.
“Captain, how long until we reach the sixth district?”
“Roughly twenty minutes, I’d say.”
I’d planned to sit back and relax until then, when dark text suddenly bloomed before my eyes.
《I demand a thorough explanation from you. How do you know about the great demon of the Nightmare Dungeon? This is my chance to uncover your secrets!》
As I swiped the text away and sipped my tea, the Eye That Pierces Truth unleashed another barrage of writing.
《:(》
《:(》
《:(》
Left alone, it looked ready to nag me all day.
Each time I read it, my mental stamina chipped away bit by bit—an unexpectedly potent form of communication.
I had no choice but to respond in kind.
[Stop.]
A faint script of flame appeared in the empty air.
Fire Crafting, channeled through the Fire Crafting Secret Art.
Since Ruleria was so carefree by nature, the power of her Secret Art remained weak, and I still lacked finesse beyond this rudimentary application.
Wriggle-wriggle.
My left hand suddenly itched; the serpent tattoo on my forearm was writhing in silent laughter.
The solitary goddess, who had only two Followers besides myself, seemed delighted by my pragmatic use of her Secret Art.
《The Wise One mocks the Rotten Wind-Reeking Evil God, chuckling that such a shabby application suits her corrupted Secret Art perfectly.》
Zzzt!
While the two Evil Gods ridiculed Ruleria, the tram continued its steady journey along the rails without incident.
After some time had passed—
“We’re here.”
We’d arrived at the sixth district.
The station was at the central plaza.
It was near the crumbling library where I’d come with Abel before, meeting the young master and his protective secretary.
……
Rosalia gazed wordlessly toward the prosperous quarter—the only genuinely cheerful neighborhood in the sixth district.
Grown accustomed now to the taciturn assassin’s gestural communication, Astrímia ventured to guess her intent.
– That way, then?
“Correct. Shall we report first to Odillon, the Moon Expedition Party’s financial administrator?”
At this hour, my wards should be diligently training at the mansion.
We made our way directly to Odillon’s Mansion.
“Welcome.”
The butler Sergius greeted us at the door, evidently having received advance notice from Rosalia via the communication artifact, The Piece That Binds All.
“Kar!”
“Patron, you’ve arrived.”
The young siblings had been waiting as well.
Merlin and Abel rushed to me and threw their arms around me.
Their bedraggled, grimy appearance from our first meeting was nowhere to be found—they were impeccably dressed now.
Standing before them, I felt anew the weight of the path I was walking.
“Have you both been well?”
I ruffled both their heads with both hands—a high-difficulty skill—and asked, whereupon the siblings smiled with knowing expressions simultaneously.
“Of course! I bet you’ll be shocked when you see how much our skills have improved!”
“To be honest, we haven’t progressed quite that dramatically. Still, we’ve put in genuine effort.”
Their humility differed in degree, but both clearly took satisfaction in the fruits of their training.
How admirable they were.
“I bought you each a gift.”
I retrieved prizes I’d exchanged at the casino from my spatial artifact and pressed them into the siblings’ hands.
For Merlin: a set of short sword, practice blade, and storage belt—First Breath & Last Breath.
For Abel: a kitchen knife called the Gluttonous Fang.
Both were premium-grade items, their quality evident at a glance, and the siblings’ eyes widened in wonder.
“Kar…! Thank you!”
Merlin’s tail began wagging wildly.
“No need to thank me. That thing was just something the blacksmith was about to throw away—I grabbed it for you.”
“Stop teasing me!”
Yes, this was it.
The spirited response I’d never quite gotten from the taciturn Rosalia.
“Hello there?”
While Merlin tugged at my sleeve and shook it, Pendrick and his companion were exchanging bows with Abel.
“I’m Pendrick. This is Astrímia.”
– Pleased to meet you?
“…Is this beautiful sword actually speaking?”
– Tee-hee, the young one here has good taste!
The atmosphere couldn’t have been warmer.
“Nice to meet you, Master Swordsman. I’m Merlin.”
“Pleased to meet you too. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. I’m counting on you.”
“Me too!”
“This is Astrímia—she’s my beloved.”
– Delighted to meet you!
“…Your beloved?”
I was nodding warmly at this when the butler Sergius quietly approached.
“Is this the swordsman we’ve been looking to recruit?”
“Yes. What do you make of him?”
“Quite impressive indeed. The air about him is extraordinary, and that sword must be an artifact. He’s exceeded our expectations. The young master will be pleased with him.”
Pleased or not, the young master would probably offer nothing more than a cool “not bad.”
“Master Kar, the young master has instructed me to prepare a banquet welcoming the new expedition member. You’ve all worked hard—please rest with your companions until evening, when dinner will be served.”
“Hmm, was that truly the young master’s idea?”
There was no way a self-centered sociopath would come up with something like that.
“Actually, it was my suggestion.”
“I suspected as much.”
“In any case, I’ve placed an artifact in the guest rooms to relieve fatigue. While Charlotte prepares the meal, please rest and recover.”
The mark of a seasoned butler’s thoughtful consideration.
“Patron.”
Just then, Abel approached and confidently flexed both fists.
“At tonight’s meal, you’ll be able to taste the fruits of my skill now that I’ve officially advanced to the Chef Class.”
“Is that so?”
The luxury of tasting a dish prepared by one’s own ward was not something everyone could enjoy.
“I truly look forward to it.”
I patted Abel’s back and made my way to the guest room.
I spotted an artifact that looked unmistakably like a massage chair and immediately surrendered myself to it.
“Kar, I’ve been training so hard, and my movements are becoming sneakier and more subtle. Now I’m confident I could never lose against a Mage or Craftsman of the same level!”
Merlin pulled up a chair beside me and chattered away enthusiastically the entire time I rested.
Of course, it wasn’t bothersome in the slightest.
“My old abilities were really nothing compared to the other guild members, but now I’m the one pulling ahead!”
How could it possibly be annoying?
Here was a child who’d worn an exhausted, world-weary expression unsuited to her years, now glowing with such joy.
“All that effort has borne fruit.”
“It really has!”
“Though beating non-combat Craftsmen isn’t really something to boast about.”
“But Sergius said Craftsmen are formidable opponents too…?”
“Some Craftsmen are exceptions—they do possess considerable martial strength.”
By the time evening arrived, I’d lost track of time in conversation with Merlin.
“Dinner is prepared. Please follow me.”
I entered the dining hall under Sergius’s guidance and was struck by the sight of an elongated table fit for a noble household.
At the far end from the entrance, at the head of the table, the master of the house was already seated.
“You’ve arrived.”
Odillon Brittes.
The sickly young master, plagued by various chronic ailments, was already sipping wine before the meal had even begun.
Behind him, Rosalia stood like a shadow.
“Good evening, young master. I trust you’ve been well?”
“Hardly well, I’m afraid.”
“That would certainly be the case.”
I took the seat to the right of the head of the table, with Merlin beside me.
Shortly after, Pendrick descended from his rest in another room, and the moment he stepped into the dining hall, he flashed a radiant smile and bowed respectfully to Odillon.
“A pleasure to meet you. You must be Odillon of House Brittes? I’m Pendrick.”
“So you’re that promising swordsman. Welcome.”
“As for promising, I couldn’t say—but wouldn’t you agree the face is rather handsome?”
“I suppose.”
“By the way, sir, your hair is truly lustrous! Do you have some secret to your care routine?”
“…….”
Odillon—a young man who distrusted human connection itself and denied the very notion of friendship—found himself momentarily at a loss for words under the relentless charm offensive of Pendrick’s Boundless Sociability trait.
“I smell something delicious wafting from somewhere. My, my—I’m already salivating!”
“…Just sit down for now.”
As Pendrick took his seat across from me, Astrímia, nestled in his arms, stirred restlessly.
– Lovely to see you, sir. I’m Astrímia.
“The Spirit of Joy, then.”
– That’s right. And I’m in a passionately blossoming romance with Pendrick!
“…….”
Odillon, who regarded even romantic love with cynical eyes, again fell silent and closed his mouth.
Zing!
The exalted presence—delighted by the abundance of “children suited to Faith”—beamed at me, remarking that today had provided quite the entertainment.
“Hehehehe. Here comes the food—!”
Before long, the maid Charlotte began bringing in dishes of prepared meals alongside Abel.
Every single plate bore the unmistakable appearance of something extraordinary.
“Oh….”
While Pendrick gasped in admiration, Abel set several vegetable-based dishes before me.
“All dishes prepared to suit elven tastes.”
“They look delicious.”
“You won’t be disappointed.”
“Should I happen to be disappointed, I’ll brace myself for considerable ridicule.”
“Understood.”
The skilled maid Charlotte arranged dozens upon dozens of dishes across the table in beautiful presentation.
“With the talented swordsman Pendrick now joining our ranks, the future looks promising. Then let us dine. Rosalia, you sit as well.”
With Odillon’s unremarkable words of welcome, the banquet to celebrate our new expedition member Pendrick had begun.
Nothing particularly eventful occurred.
Simply a chance to eat abundantly.
After tasting the food, my eyes widened involuntarily.
“Abel, that’s remarkable. The vegetables are dancing on my tongue.”
“You’re too kind.”
“No, I mean it—that was flattery.”
“I suspected as much.”
“Actually, it’s truly delicious.”
He’d only recently taken up the Chef Class, yet already he’d reached this level of skill.
I looked forward to seeing his growth.
While Abel’s food was excellent, Charlotte’s cooking—prepared by a maid of such exceptional talent that Odillon’s mother had stubbornly insisted on bringing her when she was cast out from the family—transcended imagination in its flavor.
“I don’t think I can eat at ordinary restaurants anymore. Chef, you’ll take responsibility, won’t you?”
“Ah, the mistress said exactly the same thing.”
Pendrick, having quickly grown close to the maid Charlotte, kept the atmosphere buoyant throughout with his gift for eloquence.
As the meal drew to its close and all were satisfied, I finally spoke up.
“Members of the Moon Expedition Party. There is something important I must tell you.”
All eyes turned toward me.
Merlin and Abel, siblings.
The household of Odillon’s Mansion.
Pendrick and Astrímia.
“I wish to walk this path with all of you, to the very end.”
The siblings, who would have originally been sacrifices in the Hidden Ghoul Pack’s Lair or future rivals faced in the Dungeon, now lived as my Wards.
The lovers, separated by curse, still leaned on one another even now.
Fate could be changed.
And from this moment forward, I would forge new paths as a Socialite.
To do so, there was one essential thing that had to be done.
“Don’t you think our numbers are still far too few?”
The Moon Expedition Party was not yet complete.
“Our party has two principal aims going forward. First, recruiting talent. Second, building our reputation steadily through Dungeon expeditions.”
And the ultimate objective was already fixed.
“One day, we’ll conquer the Nightmare Dungeon. If anyone lacks confidence in this, raise your hand.”
Pendrick lifted his hand with a grin, then lowered it after Astrímia rebuked him.
No one else raised theirs.
Each face showed only their own resolve and hope.
“Excellent.”
With everyone now agreeing on an ultimate goal, all that remained was to push forward relentlessly.
“I’m going to keep charging toward that goal without stopping, so no backing out or complaining later, understood?”
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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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