Chapter 4 - Cooked

It might not be everyone's wish, but given the circumstances of being drowned with one's own regrets, some humans have at least once thought to themselves about what if they could turn back time, what sort of change they would do?

At what exact moment would they pursue something... Or someone they haven't been able, but desperately wanted to...?

...Or what would they decisively refrain from pursuing the 'thing' that flipped their lives for the worse?

If they didn't walk down that one path to destruction...

If they experienced something too mundane that snowballed into strings of irreversible trouble...

Regressing to change the outcome for the better was indeed a dream come true.

However, even with all the knowledge that could make the regressor nigh-omniscient, life didn't intend to make it easy.

It would be an arduous puzzle of unpredictability.

...

Together with the main chef of the house, I arrived at the main kitchen filled with neat cooking necessities, a few shiny wooden tables, a clean sink, and... solitude.

Since the fixed schedule lunch time of the Shadow Palace, for each and everyone, which included its esteemed workers, and due to the current time for other palace-related duties, I'm now alone with the skilled main chef.

As the main chef was preparing everything, while standing some distance behind, I casually asked.

"Main chef, why do you like cooking so much?"

Without turning his back to face me, the main chef delightfully answered.

"Young Master, I like art. And you know that cooking is also a form of art. From skillfully procuring fresh green vegetables, to carefully subjugating edible animals for abundant nutrients, then precisely cutting them up, and lovingly preparing them to serve for what's it worth..."

I listened to the main chef continue with his mumblings as I sat at one of the tables, my arms crossed.

After some time, the main chef gestured for me to stand by his side. Now, we're facing two metallic pots filled with a considerable amount of oil suitable for deep frying.

As the flame beneath gradually heated the pots, the main chef spoke.

"Since we have two remaining pieces of buffalo meat, let's go with this..."

At that moment, I watched the main chef dip the buffalo meat into each pot, the cooking oil bubbled like an indiscriminate surge of heatstorm, causing the surroundings near it to feel incredibly sweat-inducing.

The hotness went past my skin before the main chef covered them with their respective lids.

"Now, Young Master, based on what you've done earlier, it seems your specialty focuses on steaming meat and salad dressing; something for quick gratification, I must say, which can be said to be best suited for adventuring or survival..."

I couldn't deny that, not that I intend to.

On the front lines of the endless wars, where respite was infinitely more valuable than gold, managing to cook something through fire was in itself a privilege.

I glanced to my side, gauging his expression that subtly turned into...

"Main chef... While we wait for the buffalo meat to cook before cutting it into smaller bits, can I say something?"

"Oh, are you curious about something? What would you like to say, Young Master?"

As we stood in front of the cooking pots each enclosed by a lid, I slowly spoke.

"I am grateful... that even I, and my mother, are tainted with commoner blood, you still serve us to the best of your abilities..."

"...Huh? N-no, Young Master! It's my pleasure!"

The main chef didn't expect to hear such words from me, leaving him a bit flustered.

The thing is... My mother and I began only with our residence in the territory of the Avernus Clan roughly two years ago.

The two of us were merely yet peacefully living our lives downtown, outside of the clan's important affairs, selling certain types of delicacies such as fruit salads, cheese bread, and something my mother called tacos—a vegetable, meat-filled bread that was popular among commoners and even some low-ranking nobles.

However, one day, a verified messenger from the Avernus Clan informed us that a decree from the Avernus Clan Patriarch was issued—that we must leave our commoner life to live within the clan's main land.

It was also the first time in my life that I was notified that my father was an extremely renowned person with the publicly known title as the "Heavenly Sword of Darkness," who was also one of the four dukes of the Vodwartch Empire.

I didn't know at first how could such a prominent figure fall in love with my mother, but through her mumblings, it seemed the Avernus Patriarch fell for my mother's cooking—as well as the source of it.

Reminiscing how my mother would casually tell their stories, I responded to the main chef's act of politeness.

"Main chef, I apologize. It seems we've deviated from cooking. Haha. Look, the lids are about to burst open."

As I pointed my fingers to the two pots, the main chef turned away his gaze from me. Now, as if momentarily shaken, the main chef removed the lids and let out a sigh.

After removing the deep-fried buffalo, I was guided with one pot in my grasp with heat-resistant gloves...

"Main chef... Again, I'm thankful."

Standing side by side at the table, I repeated my expression of gratitude.

"Sigh. Young Master, why are you being sentimental—"

It was then that it happened.

Splash!

I swiftly flung the pot of burning oil across his seemingly proud face.

"AHHH—!"

With an agonizing scream, something I was not worried about being heard by others outside, the main chef stumbled backward.

"...I like your cooking, main chef. Sadly, it now feels like terribly disgusting, you gentle dog of the Lady of the Stars."

In the next moment, as his body wiggled on the floor, I approached him and dragged his hair to face my eyes.

Facing his scorching countenance, seeing a repulsive sight that was not even worth reacting to compared to what I'd seen on the battlefield, the main chef barely managed to looked at me with outright, inexplicable fear.

With his ragged breathing, as the pain from burning skin prompted weak moans, I forcefully dragged him to the table...

There...

Blob...!

...I drowned his head in the steaming-hot oil without an ounce of mercy.

Amidst this agony, no person would be able to think rationally.

Pulling the main chef's head from the pot, I threw his body on the floor.

"Are you dying?"

I casually yet coldly asked.

"Can you still see me?"

Not that I cared about his eyesight at this point.

"Don't worry. Some weirdo I know once told me that the sense of hearing is the last thing to disappear when someone is dying. So you probably hear what I'm saying..."

"...To think you're the agent that caused my mother to fall into that cursed sickness."

Even if the main chef was immobile due to his senses being disrupted, I saw him flinch at what I just said.

But what's more surprising though... at least for him, was that I'm speaking as if it had already happened once.

***

Wh-why is this happening...?!

This commoner bastard... How's he aware of the meticulous plan for the Lady of the Stars' entertainment?!

I must kill him here...! I must kill him!

Does he naively think that I could be permanently suppressed with just this?! I've gone through the worst!

With boiling rage hotter than the oil poured on his face, the main chef with a clear mind inwardly muttered.

'Beast Summoning! Acoponda, the cursed black snake of the Abyssal Forest!'

At that moment, the main chef's body exuded a dark aura...

Only for it to instantly dissipate!

Huh? Wh-what's happening?

Forcefully, and instinctively opening his eyes, the main chef saw it...

The commoner blood Young Master who looked too innocent and only knew how to cook thanks to his mother's teaching...

The young boy who was mocked by other children residing in the same vast territory...

The son of the Avernus Patriarch who couldn't even tame a low-rank beast...

Now looking at the main chef with silently furious eyes, while pointing something in his direction.

A right hand wearing an unusual ring.

Wh-

Before the main chef could process it, he just eventually sensed his entire existence disappearing—as if being eaten by something incomprehensible.

And before his sense of hearing completely dissipated, he heard the Young Master—someone who was like a wolf in sheep's clothing—gratifyingly speak.

"Thank you for the food."