Clara van Avernus, one of the wives of the Avernus Clan Patriarch, was an elegant and meek woman with shoulder-length auburn hair as though each strand was bathed in golden dusk; amber eyes similar to that of fiery hearth; and fine fair skin like soft snow.
In this serene late morning, her only son, Zil van Avernus, rushed into her room and cried into her embrace.
Initially, she thought that it might have been a terrible nightmare, but as a mother, Clara couldn't help but simply fall silent and just provide comfort.
The atmosphere at that time was undeniably yet inexplicably serious, knowing that Zil, her fourteen-year-old son who would turn fifteen two months from now, was a kind of little boy barely expressing his emotions through tears.
However...
"Syr, did you drown my son with your elemental beast to wake him up? Look at that... Something seems different!"
Clara, along with Syr who was Zil's personal maid roughly the same age as him, together with other few maids and chefs, were equally perplexed by Zil's current actions.
"U–Uh, Miss, I-I just did what you told me..."
Zil was a deep sleeper, at least until when he was sent to the battlefield where peaceful sleep became a privilege. After all, with demonic beasts swarming everywhere, which could attack at any given notice, rather by instincts or mental command by those connected to their consciousness, he had to be alert of his surroundings even with his eyes closed.
"But Miss... I didn't know Young Master Zil can cook..."
Syr, the maid with long blonde hair and ashen eyes, was momentarily at a loss for words, seeing Zil cutting vegetables and meat with skillful precision as if he were an experienced chef.
After his emotional outburst, he quickly rushed to the Shadow Palace's main kitchen and took over the chefs' routine, albeit momentarily.
Along with his comrades, especially when he was a newbie soldier who barely knew anything related to hellish-like survival tactics, Zil gradually learned how to cook a variety of dishes.
In this very morning filled with nothing but a mundane flow of life, the first sign of change in the Shadow Palace took place.
***
After the earlier somewhat unusual but not entirely questionable spectacle in the main kitchen of the house, I returned to my room with my head full of questions.
My heart and soul were filled with gratitude despite the inexplicable situation right now. However, knowing at least what would happen in the future, even if most of them weren't directly related to this household, I urgently called for my maid, Syr.
She didn't know why I summoned her into my room, more so with a tray of abundant and delectable delicacies in her grasp, which she then placed at the desk beside my luxurious-looking bed.
Somewhat tense as she took a few steps back and stood by the door, Syr waited for my voice as I sat on the side of my bed.
Collecting my mind, as I briefly glanced at the unfamiliar ring on my hand before raising my gaze to meet hers, I finally spoke.
"Syr..."
"U-uh, yes, Young Master?"
"What's the date today?"
Of course, as I asked such an abrupt question, Syr tilted her head, her brow slightly furrowed.
Nonetheless, after responding to her confused look, I received the answer I was waiting for.
"Seventh day of February, Young—"
At that moment, even if it was just momentary, Syr's expression darkened, her entire body felt a sudden chill, seeing a kind of face that shouldn't have been worn by a mere fourteen-year-old teenage boy, which then halted her words.
To alleviate the tense atmosphere, my expression painted through my amethyst eyes returned as I addressed the visibly startled young maid.
"Syr, thank you. Please look after my mother for the time being."
"...Call me if you need anything, Young Master."
Syr slightly lowered her head before leaving the room with a pondering expression as soon as she turned her back. Even if she's around the same age as me, coming from a Baron Family, she was not all too innocent at grasping malicious eyes.
And just now, upon hearing the exact date from when I regressed to, my eyes shown exactly a subtle malice seemed to stem from wanting to tear everything apart.
"Syr..."
"A-ah, yes?"
Once again, as I called for her just as she opened the door, she abruptly stopped and turned her head, looking at me while maintaining her composure.
"Buy a lot of ingredients. Everything. Who knows, we might have another feast tonight."
She has good senses. Or maybe I've shown her a side of me that shouldn't have existed.
After I was left alone, locking the door just in case someone might barge inside, I took a deep breath. Looking at the ring similar to a relic, with my ears also attentively listening, I confirmed that I was not in any way hallucinating.
"Hungry. Feed me."
Listening to the monotonous tone that evidently sounded like a woman, I couldn't help but query.
"Who... Or what are you? Are you the one who sent me back into the past?"
My memory of this day, the seventh of February, was very clear—it was the last day before the suffering of my mother and its impact on the entire Shadow Palace began.
That being said, I am certain this mystical ring just came out of nowhere.
"Food. Answer."
"...Huh?"
When I embraced my mother earlier, this entity's desire somewhat coincidentally aligned with what I wanted to do first—cook for her; food for whatever this was.
That's why I asked Syr to bring a few plates of food to my room after drying every ingredient in the main kitchen.
That being said, refraining from asking how could a ring even eat, I reached for a plate filled with fried eggs, salad, and such before placing it on my lap.
"...!"
The ancient ring on my right hand slightly trembled as I sensed its gluttony.
"...What now?"
"Point... Point..."
I didn't know why I seemed to understand its gibberish instructions...
Clenching my right hand, I pointed the ring on the mouthful of delectables.
In the next moment...
The ring glowed, emanating dark-purple mist, which was similar to the scenery I saw before I opened my eyes back into this day.
In addition, my eyes widened in horror, every hair on my body stood on end.
Wh-what the hell is this...?!
The dark-purple mist consumed not only the food but the plate itself, and in the midst of it, several amethyst eyes clumsily appeared and gazed in every direction as if a dreaming human.
"Do. Not. Be. Afraid."
How can I not be afraid?! I've seen every monstrosity on a battlefield but never a fog with lingering eyes! And it's attached to me!
As my thoughts trailed, the plate and everything on it vanished into the void.
"Void. Grace. You. Abound."
It was then that I saw something for the first time in my life, making me forget the previous questions I had for her/it.
Indeed, not only life was full of surprises, even after death, that was.
Seeing what was in front of me, I waited for the right time to act on my plan.
To prevent my mother from falling into the seemingly incurable sickness.
***
In one of the lounges within the Shadow Palace, an ordinary-looking man in his early thirties, with meek black eyes and short black hair, sat at the table as he faced a cloaked figure projected in a Communicator—a spherical device in which with the right "soul signature" could act as a long-distance medium to deliver a message...
Or specifically, an order.
"Miss Clara visited the market downtown with her maid and two dark knights. I will prepare it right away."
< 'Make sure that before they come back, it's ready. Or else you'll obstruct the Lady of the Stars' amusement. You know what happens, right?' >
The man gulped upon hearing the figure on the other end, especially after the figure carefully mentioned the Patriarch's second wife's title.
"...Yes, it seems the lunch of the house will be filled with delight."
The man forced a smile as the call ended, leaving him with a deep sigh and buckets of sweat.
It was then that the man heard a knock.
Huh? What now?
Taking his strides and gently opening the door, the man saw the young man of this household.
"Oh, Young Master Zil, what brings you here? By the way, I really admire your cutting skills earlier! Are you practicing in secret?"
As the man asked, Zil did something quite unexpected—
"Main chef, please teach me another method of cooking! O-Of course, if you can't... Then–"
Zil lowered his head, stuttering like a true student who wanted to learn the mentor's ways.
"Hoho! I like your spirit, Young Master!"
I've got time for this bastard anyway. Might as well see his last smile. Hah!
"Really? T-then, teach me something simple...!"
"All right. What would you like to learn, Young Master?"
Then, as if Zil already knew what he wanted to learn, an arc of innocence shaped his lips.
"...Deep-frying."