Your Majesty, Dinner Is Ready. - Chapter 56

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

Episode 56: A Conversation Laden with Deeper Meaning
“I’ve packed in everything and anything.”
Charlotte, the maid who’d been nursing a drink since morning, helped her pupil Abel secure the backpack across his shoulders.
A pack stuffed full of Camping Cooking Tools inside.
As this was Abel’s first Dungeon expedition after switching to the Cook Class, his teacher had personally seen to every detail, or so it was said.
“Live combat differs from training. Apply what you’ve learned, but cultivate the insight to make different judgments in each moment as it comes.”
“Yes!”
Merlin, wearing today another wide-brimmed hat I’d bought for him, nodded thoughtfully as he listened to the advice of his teacher, the butler Sergius.
“Merlin, are you nervous?”
“…A little?”
Though this wasn’t his first expedition, it seemed he was somewhat on edge—this being his first real combat since beginning formal explorer training.
Sergius began imparting ways to ease the tension, all wrapped in a gentle smile.
“Socialite Kar.”
As I watched the siblings each receive quick tips from their respective teachers, Odillon spoke to me with a sullen expression.
Rosalia, standing like a shadow behind him, held three books in her arms, their spines all a vivid scarlet.
“Here—the books you asked for.”
《The Novel Series: Heroes and Mothers》
《A work brimming with blood and rage: a war hero who sacrificed his daughter as an offering to appease a vengeful god’s wrath, and a mother bent on avenging her child. Everyone dies by the story’s end—it hits your tastes perfectly. Though I’m surprised you’d enjoy such things…》
“Thank you, young master.”
Once I’d stored the novels away in a pocket dimension, Odillon spoke once more, gruffly.
“Socialite Kar. Inspector Pendrick is an excellent expedition member, but he has one fatal flaw I’ve noticed.”
“My goodness. I must listen carefully. What is it?”
“He talks too much.”
The young master, who despises wholesome friendships, muttered while wrinkling his brow.
“He’s already become perfectly friendly with Sergius and Charlotte, even the cutthroats from the Black Sword Guild—and he won’t stop chattering for a moment….”
“His sociability is indeed remarkable.”
“Given enough time, he’d become friends with a rock. It’s exhausting.”
“…Do you dislike me?”
Pendrick, who’d just emerged from the manor, interjected into the conversation as though hurt by the remark.
“I thought we’d grown quite close. Especially when we met at the training hall this morning—you greeted me most warmly, did you not?”
“I didn’t say a word back then.”
“But I believe hearts can understand one another without words. When I was living on the Eastern Continent, many elves refused to learn the Common tongue, so I had to master the art of communicating through action….”
…
Despite the young master’s expression growing increasingly contorted, the brilliant inspector’s story flowed on unabated.
Zing!
His lordship has expressed his opinion that the harmony between a taciturn tall fellow and a charismatic charmer isn’t altogether bad.
Even I had to admit it was a combination where their strengths aligned with surprising balance.
“Have you heard of the druid Mirel? She’s a friend I grew close to on the Eastern Continent, and she’s so competent that….”
Sensing the conversation threatened to grow longer, Odillon shifted his gaze toward me and applied a silent pressure.
Nodding as though to say trust only me, I cut off Pendrick mid-memory.
“Pendrick?”
“Oh, yes. Commander.”
“My apologies, but I’ll have you speak with the young master after we return from the expedition. He said he wishes to have a separate meeting with you later—discuss to your heart’s content then.”
“Really? Understood!”
“…Socialite Kar.”
Odillon shot me a side-eye glance, so I answered with a heart gesture from my fingers.
“Then we should depart now.”
“Wait just a—”
“Sister, do come along quickly.”
Rosalia nodded to the young master before falling into step behind me.
“Young master, see you later. Talk after the expedition!”
Pendrick, who’d drained the very soul from Odillon until the end, soon came bounding after us in a flurry.
As we walked, Merlin glanced over our party once and then leaned close to whisper.
“Kar. Is it that you’re planning to recruit expedition members only like Kar…?”
“Like me? What does that even mean? A capable, charming, talented rascal?”
…
My sister sealed her lips, so my brother spoke up quickly.
“Are you planning to bring in only such talented individuals as our patron going forward?”
“Of course. They’ll all be promising individuals like myself.”
“I’m curious what the Moon Expedition Party will look like in the future.”
“I feel the same way.”
Astrímia, who had been listening silently to our conversation, let out a wistful sigh.
– I have to say, I’m quite looking forward to what comes next. In every sense of the word….
***
We were making our way toward the Dungeon, our destination.
Merlin, wearing the broad-brimmed hat I’d bought him today, walked with a spring in his step as he spoke.
“Which Dungeon are we heading to, exactly?”
“A-rank Dungeon—Tiger Slaughter Hell.”
“…There’s no way a Dungeon like that actually exists!”
“I’ll take you there eventually. You can count on it.”
As I playfully tugged the brim of Merlin’s hat down, obscuring his view, we arrived at the location where the Dungeon entrance stood.
The southeastern quarter, nestled between the Socialite district and the Slum.
Beyond a low stone wall, buildings with striking monochromatic architecture—black and white in perfect, deliberate contrast—came into view.
Abel, who had been quietly surveying the surroundings, perked up his ears.
“This is… a Harmony Faith monastery, isn’t it?”
《Landmark – Artea Monastery》
《A dreary place where devotees of the false goddess live out their austere lives. May the day come when a wise gaze sweeps across this place!》
This was a monastery where followers of Harmony Faith—members of organizations such as the Spear of Order and the Lamp of Inquiry—lived in communal seclusion.
Normally it was open only to those who served Artein, but Dungeon explorers who came to clear it were granted rare exception.
“May Artein’s grace, radiant as sunlight, embrace all creation. Welcome. What brings you here?”
“Thank you, Holy Knight. We’ve come to clear the Dungeon.”
I showed my Identification Badge to the Holy Knight stationed at the entrance, and we passed into the monastery grounds.
Merlin, hurrying ahead, kept turning his head to take in every detail, his nose twitching with curiosity.
“The air here is so fresh, compared to the Slum.”
“Perhaps it’s because this is a place touched by the hand of one who protects all mankind?”
“Is that really the only reason?”
“A Holy Object has been installed here that purifies all contamination in the surrounding area.”
Such a perfect air-purification system, and all thanks to Artein’s grace.
The Holy Objects that Artein bestows truly benefit the mortal realm.
Though it was nominally the same grade, the Sky Invader couldn’t compare in usefulness or versatility—not even close.
Sting!
He boasted that if I were to offer him some grander treasure, he’d grant me something equally magnificent.
It was all bluff.
For a deity of meager faith, simply having bestowed the Sky Invader had already made him nearly destitute.
“Let’s proceed carefully.”
As we walked deeper, bathed in the fresh, purified breeze, I caught sight of an impressive tower built flush against the Slum side of the monastery grounds.
A structure whose roof glowed like a beacon, just like a lighthouse.
A watchtower for monitoring the poor.
From personal experience, I knew that being constantly observed did compel one to live with a certain virtue—even if it was half-forced—and that wasn’t entirely without merit.
“Recruiting one Warrior!”
“Do you have anyone versed in beast-slaying?”
Near the watchtower, muscular explorers with imposing builds were calling out, their sweat-drenched bodies advertising their search for temporary party members.
“Astrímia, it looks like the entrance is somewhere around here.”
– Seems so.
Pendrick, who had been fervently sightseeing around the monastery, suddenly pointed toward something.
“Ah, there it is!”
Merlin, following the genius swordsman’s finger, blinked blankly for a moment.
Near an ancient, sturdy tree that had thrived thanks to Artein’s Holy Objects.
A single piece of furniture stood out starkly, utterly incongruous with the surrounding scenery.
“A bookshelf…?”
A bookshelf as tall as if three of our tallest member, Rosalia, had been stacked neatly atop one another, stood planted in the grassy field like a tree.
《An entrance leading to the Sin Library.》
“Explorers, please form an orderly line!”
A Dungeon-managing priest from the Lamp of Inquiry shouted, trying to control the haphazardly assembled parties, though with so many people present, it proved far from simple.
Abel, pressed close beside me, tugged at my sleeve.
“Patron, is the reward for this Dungeon quite worthwhile? There are so many people here.”
“Oh, Abel—you’re quite perceptive, aren’t you?”
Before I could answer, Pendrick looked down at Abel with a grin.
“I wondered what kind of people would be under the captain’s patronage, but I’m amazed—you’re both sharp and spirited.”
“…That’s more credit than I deserve.”
Abel bit his lip and turned away at Pendrick’s praise.
I ran my hand through the ward boy’s hair as he pretended not to smile, then studied the explorers around us one by one.
Just then, my eyes met those of an explorer who happened to be surveying the surroundings in the same way.
‘…He’s here.’
I could feel it instinctively.
That one.
In truth, even without instinct interjecting, I could have recognized him on intuition alone.
How could I fail to notice someone dressed so conspicuously?
“Hey.”
The explorer whose gaze had locked with mine strode toward me with long steps.
The distinctive blue skin of the Demon Race.
Eyes with inverted pupils—white where black should be, and vice versa.
And a grotesque figure whose upper body, including most of his face, was swathed in bandages.
“Oh….”
Merlin, who had been smiling as he watched Maengmaengi bouncing excitedly on Rosalia’s shoulder, flinched and hid behind me.
Abel’s body stiffened as well.
“A Demon Race….”
“…….”
The Demon Race.
For the two siblings who had lived in the Slum, they could only be objects of terror.
“Kar, be careful.”
As the explorer drew near, Merlin whispered to me in a voice only I could hear.
“One moment of carelessness and it’s over. The Demon Race have truly terrible habits of thievery!”
The Demon Race were largely a poor folk who dwelt in the slums.
“What are you saying? Look how virtuous this person appears.”
“…But anyone can see he looks wicked and sinister?”
While Merlin innocently slandered the seemingly virtuous Demon Race, the subject of his calumny came to stand before me, resting one arm on his hip.
“Are you the captain of that Moon Expedition Party or whatever?”
The eccentric black mage Bartimir of the Demon Race, twenty-two years old—wait, what is this? His entire body is saturated with curses and disease. He is plainly not in his right mind; he should be sent forthwith to the temple of the false goddess.
Bartimir.
The Demon Race black mage turned his gaze upon me with displeasure.
I bowed my head slightly.
“Pleased to meet you, Bartimir. I am Kar, a Cleric of Twisted Truth.”
“…A Demon Race was a fellow member of your expedition party? Doesn’t that seem rather dangerous?”
Merlin made a remark that could have sounded quite rude, but Bartimir paid it no mind whatsoever, merely regarding me intently.
“A half-elf cleric, then. You must have received the curse bestowed by the god of nature?”
I nodded quietly, and a smile played across the black mage’s lips, visible between the bandages.
“Shall I show you?”
“Let me see.”
Without hesitation, I lifted my shirt to reveal the sprout that had broken through my chest. Bartimir studied it for a long moment, then nodded to himself.
“You’re not as bad as I thought. Come on, let’s go.”
As the Demon Race black mage started toward the entrance, Astrímia murmured blankly.
– What exactly about him satisfied him…?
None of my companions could find an answer.
I followed Bartimir without bothering to explain just how much hidden meaning had been woven into the exchange between us.
As I walked, I caressed my left arm, which bore a serpent tattoo.
“Please wait just a moment longer.”
Today, for the first time in a while, I will grant you a life of Faith that you can truly be satisfied with.

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