Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, Vol. 6

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Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, Vol. 6 Page 15

by Hiro Ainana


  I could probably burn it, but I was hanging onto it in case its contents came in handy for making other spells.

  While Arisa practiced to get the hang of Space Magic, I used each of my scrolls to register them in the magic menu, then tested out the power of the menu version.

  Practical Magic spell Magic Hand—basically telekinesis—proved particularly difficult to operate.

  It was easy enough when I tried picturing a single hand, but when I tried to do it with two and control separate objects at the same time, things got way more difficult. Mastering it would take some training.

  Interestingly, when I touched objects with Magic Hand, it was possible to put them in Storage. The spell had a much farther reach than any stick or spear, so it might come in handy in unexpected ways.

  I planned to wait until after I brought Arisa back to the mansion before testing the intermediate attack magic spells Ice Storm, Thunder Storm, and Implosion.

  With how much power they had behind them, they could do some serious damage.

  “These Mana Transfer and Mana Drain spells are totally cheating.”

  Arisa had agreed to help with my experiments, and she was shocked when they were over.

  I couldn’t blame her, since my Mana Drain had robbed her of most of her magical power, then Mana Transfer completely restored it.

  Sure, the large difference between our levels was part of it, but using Mana Drain against a magic user might be downright unfair.

  We also tested out the Space Magic spells for communication and spying.

  When we experimented with Clairaudience and Clairvoyance on each other, Arisa didn’t detect anything amiss when she was the subject, but I felt a slight sense of discomfort. It would probably be best to avoid using it on anyone overly perceptive.

  “Arisa, I was planning to carve a seal slate and leave it here. You can use it, too, right?”

  “Seal slates are landmarks for the Return spell, aren’t they? I think it’d be better to do it closer to the surface, then. This place is so deep, it might be hard to teleport here from aboveground.”

  I see. That makes sense.

  “Then I guess I’ll set them up in several places, not just here.”

  “Can you really make a seal slate so easily?”

  “Yeah, it’s not too complicated.”

  Arisa seemed worried, but I had plenty of the liquid I needed, and it would take only a few minutes to make the magic circuit for the seal. It was reasonably cost-effective, too, only about two silvers per slate.

  While I was at it, I made a few extras for Arisa to keep in her Item Box.

  “I bet a Space Magic expert could make a killing as a trader.”

  “You’re the only person OP enough to do that, master. I can only do a little over half a mile at a time.” Arisa shrugged with a small sigh.

  At her current skill level, she could teleport only herself and one other person at most.

  “But if it was a serious emergency, I could probably use Over Boost to escape with everyone at once!”

  “That’s good to know, but don’t use it unless you absolutely have to, all right?”

  I didn’t want to burst her bubble, but I wanted to make sure she didn’t abuse that power too much. I had a good reason for that, too: the advice that the Undead King Zen had given me before he died.

  Abusing Unique Skills would only lead to ruin.

  “Yes, sir!”

  Arisa saluted. I hoped she was taking me seriously.

  …Wait, huh?

  Come to think of it, my “Menu” was supposedly a Unique Skill, too, but nothing had happened to me even though I’d been using it regularly for months now, as far as I could tell.

  Maybe it was different because it was a passive skill?

  I racked my brain as we went back to the mansion.

  Oh, and the next morning, I used Magic Hand to help the kids swim through the air, which was a big hit with the younger girls.

  Cooking and Dancing

  Satou here. I’m not particularly interested in fossils in general, but for some reason, whenever I go to a hotel or department store made with marble, I end up looking for them. Maybe it’s just another way of killing time?

  “Wow! Master, look at that! The ceiling is amazing!”

  “How fitting for a ball hosted by a duke of the great Shiga Kingdom.”

  Lulu and Arisa pointed excitedly at the ceiling. Not long before, they’d also pointed out the fluffy carpets and mythical engraving on the marble wall with equal enthusiasm.

  The pair was attending the ball as my cooking assistants, not guests, which was why they were wearing black dresses with lace-trimmed white aprons. The other children were at home watching the house.

  The venue was as large as the Nippon Budokan in Tokyo, with mirrors on its domed ceiling sparkling brilliantly in the light of the chandelier.

  According to the AR display, a mithril alloy frame supported the ceiling’s enormous weight.

  On the outer edge of the venue were spaces for resting and light conversation, as well as the booth where we were preparing the food.

  It seemed that evening parties were generally buffet-style; between each booth and rest area was a large space with a few small, elegant tables.

  Much of the food consisted of light hors d’oeuvres so that the nobles could snack easily during their casual conversations.

  In a way, it wasn’t much different from a contemporary buffet-style party.

  “Sir Knight, are these arrangements satisfactory?”

  The maids had gone all out with the presentation, even decorating the buffet with flowers to make the food especially pleasing to the eye.

  Furthermore, they’d treated the flowers so the fragrance wouldn’t affect the dishes.

  “Yes, it’s perfect. You’ve made my food look much more appealing.”

  “It’s an honor to assist your cooking in any way, Sir Knight.”

  I thanked the maids, who appeared pleased as they moved on to prepare the next booth.

  Before long, the guests began to arrive.

  I had expected gourmets like Marquis Lloyd and Count Hohen to come running in first, but it turned out that they were still working with the duke in a conference room at the castle.

  Considering how much they were looking forward to this, I made a note to save some food for them just in case.

  I prepared four dishes for the occasion.

  The first, of course, was the consommé soup the duke had specially requested.

  Since it took a long time to prepare, I cooked it beforehand at the mansion and brought it to the site of the party. Putting out all five pots at once wouldn’t leave much room in our booth, so I brought out only two.

  I had really put Mia to work fixing the special soup. Consequently, she was down for the count back at the mansion.

  Earlier that morning, we brought some of the finished soup to Tenion Temple. There was no time for me to see Sara, but hopefully she’d try it along with the head priestess.

  “Ooh! So this is the soup that the young master Lloyd praised so highly!”

  “But it looks like water…”

  “You can’t call yourself a gourmet if you let appearances fool you.”

  “Indeed. It smells deliciously rich.”

  As soon as I took the lid off one of the consommé soup pots, people started crowding around.

  Apparently, Imperial Knight Ipasa, aka “the young master Lloyd,” had been spreading the word about the dish.

  Since the oil for the tempura wasn’t hot enough yet, I decided to dish out the consommé soup first. I served it in heat-resistant glass containers from the duke’s castle.

  “Delicious! What in the world is it?”

  “How heavenly.”

  “Wonderful. It tastes even better than it smells.”

  “Ahh… I must have been born to eat this soup.”

  A little embarrassed by the nobles’ extravagant praise, I started preparing the tempura. />
  Before long, I ran into a problem that wasn’t entirely unexpected: Many of the guests were eating several bowls of soup each.

  I didn’t want to get stuck making it again if we ran out, so I limited it to three bowls per person. A few of them got childishly whiny about it, but I managed to distract them with the second dish.

  The demand for the tempura wasn’t quite as high as the soup, but plenty of people still wanted to try every kind.

  I was on the verge of falling behind the demand, but luckily, I was able to borrow a few of the kitchen’s sous chefs to help with the prep work. In fact, they were all quite happy to oblige. Maybe I’d won them over with those vegetable fritters before.

  “I dunno about this one. It looks nice and all, but…”

  Arisa’s face clouded at the sight of the third dish.

  This was my take on the “meat jelly” that we’d found in the city market.

  I’d heard it was a commoner’s dish that nobles would never have at their table, so I had tried making a more elegant version of the sort you might find at a traditional Kyoto restaurant.

  At Arisa’s suggestion, I also used colorful ingredients to avoid an unappetizing brown color.

  And it was “colorful” in another way, too.

  “Oh-ho, how clever! You’ve crafted our duke’s coat of arms in edible form.”

  This compliment came from a gentleman with an impressive beard.

  I had indeed arranged the jelly into the duke’s coat of arms. Unfortunately, this meant none of the nobles wanted to be the first to take a piece and thus destroy the crest. Maybe I should have thought that through a little more…

  “It looks like the jelly spoken of in the legends of Ancestral King Yamato.”

  “Is this a new dish, Satou? I can’t wait to try it. Everything you make is always tasty.”

  Behind the gentleman was Miss Ringrande, wearing makeup and a dress for the occasion.

  “Oh, so this is the fellow you mentioned, Rin?”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I am Satou Pendragon, an honorary hereditary knight.”

  According to his AR label, this man was Ringrande’s father, the next duke.

  “Pendragon, eh? So you’re the savior of Muno City who Tolma mentioned, too? You’re much younger and more diminutive than I imagined.”

  Damn that Tolma. Gossip or not, I had to get him to stop talking me up as “the savior of Muno City.” For one thing, the “savior” label was honestly kind of embarrassing.

  “That Tolma would be a great lobbyist,” Arisa muttered.

  She was crouching behind the booth, snatching up food on a small plate.

  I didn’t mind her slacking off a little, since her main role was to coordinate with the kitchen and supply power for Lulu’s magic item.

  “Tolma bragged about your deeds as if they were his own. Why, you even defeated a demon in Gururian City, did you not?”

  Politely dodging the future duke’s compliments, I tried to redirect him toward the food.

  “I hate to destroy this work of art, but I am quite interested in your cooking. I’ll take a serving.”

  I gave Miss Ringrande and her father each a plate with two of the best kinds: jellied mackerel and jellied vegetable broth made with edamame and carrots.

  “Hmm, I’ve never had the likes of this before. It’s very flavorful.”

  “It really is. The fish is delicious, but so are the vegetables…but… Argh! No matter how good your cooking is, I’m not letting you marry Sara.”

  I think her love for her sister almost lost to her appetite for a second there…

  It appeared many of the nobles from the old capital had a powerful weakness for food.

  “Sara is a kind girl, too kind for the life of a noble. Besides, she has left the house of the duke for the sanctuary. If you wish her to return to secular life, you would first need to convince the holy woman of Tenion Temple.”

  “Rest assured, I am not trying to court Lady Sara. It is only a misunderstanding on Lady Ringrande’s part, you see…”

  The next duke was quick to understand and accept my explanation. If only Miss Ringrande would do the same.

  Now that the ducal pair had broken up the crest, the rest of the nobles ventured to try the jellies as well.

  Between the people clamoring for food and the ambitious ones trying to cozy up to the duke’s heir and Miss Ringrande, the booth was getting crowded.

  “Hmph. Have you changed roles from a so-called savior to a servant, then?”

  Of course, this rude comment came from the third prince, dressed to the nines in royal garb. This time, he was attended by only the old knight, not that deranged young one.

  I wish he hadn’t gone out of his way to approach me.

  Where did he even hear about the whole “savior” thing, anyway? How am I going to deal with him…?

  But before I racked my brain for too long, the future duke came to my rescue.

  “He is an honored guest of the duke, Prince Sharorik. My father heard of his fame as a miracle chef and requested that he make some of his famous dishes tonight.”

  The prince, who hadn’t noticed the next duke amid the flock of nobles, looked startled.

  Please don’t start calling me “miracle chef.” Isn’t “savior” embarrassing enough?

  “He is also Rin’s friend and my youngest daughter’s benefactor. I shall not look kindly on insults toward him, not even from a prince.”

  The duke’s heir stepped forward as if to protect me from the prince. Even I could tell Sharorik was out of his league here.

  Then, to add to the confusion…

  “Sir Satou! I hope there’s still some of that incredible shrimp tempura left for me!”

  “Or the superior pickled ginger tempura!”

  The pair of epicurean nobles, Marquis Lloyd and Count Hohen, raced each other to the front of the crowd.

  “…Hmm? If it isn’t Prince Sharorik.”

  “As if bringing dishonor on Lady Ringrande’s name wasn’t enough, now the fool dares to insult Lord Satou?”

  “Quite so, quite so! An upstart who fails to appreciate Lady Rin’s swordsmanship or Sir Satou’s cooking has no place at Lady Sara’s side.”

  Rein it in, you two! I wanted to exclaim. I appreciated their eagerness to defend me, but picking a fight with royalty seemed like a bad idea.

  His temper sparked, the prince reached for the Holy Sword at his waist, but luckily someone else came to the rescue.

  “Why, there you are, Your Highness. Won’t you come and regale us with tales of the royal capital?”

  Cutting through the crowd, a small army of women in slightly heavy makeup came to lure the prince away. Mercifully, he deigned to join them and brusquely took his leave.

  Miss Ringrande’s father sighed as he watched the prince go.

  “If only he would mature a little, perhaps—”

  “I doubt that’ll ever happen. He hasn’t changed a bit from ten years ago.”

  “But he is one of the finest swordsmen in the kingdom…”

  “Father, physical strength has no bearing on strength of character. Otherwise, even Hayato would be more—”

  Ringrande was evidently about to slander the hero, but she clapped a hand to her mouth at the last moment with a guilty look.

  Because it would be improper for me to comfort her, I simply waited for the duke to arrive and recommend the consommé soup to everyone. Before too long, the atmosphere was back to normal.

  Food tasted better when you were having fun, after all.

  Once the older and higher-ranking nobles, like the duke and his family, drifted away from our booth, the younger ones who’d been watching from a distance scrambled to grab some food.

  Several of them inquired into my relationship with Miss Ringrande, but I assured them that she was only teaching me swordsmanship occasionally.

  I thought I had brought plenty of food, but somehow I ran out of everything in less than thirty min
utes. I guess the combination of novelty and the smell of freshly fried food won out.

  “Sir Pendragon, might I speak with you?”

  Miss Karina approached me with a young man on her arm—although not in an amorous way. The young man was Orion, Baron Muno’s eldest son and Miss Karina’s younger brother.

  Despite his apparent fondness for the martial arts tournament, he couldn’t get out of attending the duke’s evening party.

  “Hello, Lady Karina. And this must be the brother you spoke so highly of? I am Satou Pendragon, a hereditary knight. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Indeed. I’m Orion Muno. Nice to meet you, Sir Pendragon.”

  Orion nodded importantly as he introduced himself. He appeared to have reached the age where a young boy tries to puff himself up as much as possible.

  He did mumble his first name, though, probably because his hero-loving father had given it to him. From what I understood, he was named after Orion Pendragon, a fictional hero from the legends.

  After a short chat, the two went off to the main hall. I discreetly advised them to steer clear of the prince.

  At the center of the hall, the dance was picking up as young noblemen invited beautiful young ladies to join them at the edge of the floor. It was a pretty good place to meet people.

  If a new noble like me tried to join in, I’d probably just get burned, so I had no intention of inviting anyone to dance. Besides, the unmarried young ladies were far too young for me, as their ages ranged from thirteen to eighteen.

  After watching over the youthful attempts at romance for a while, I decided it was time to bring out the last course.

  My fourth and final dish was dessert.

  Originally, I wanted to make strawberry shortcakes or cheesecakes, but I couldn’t perfect my sponge batter in time. I decided to settle for crepes.

  Despite the buffet-style service, the nobles seemed averse to eating with their hands, so I came up with a creative solution.

  Instead of the large crepes that were a popular street food in modern Japan, I decided to make mini crepes and cut them into quarters.

  The reason I went with such small slices was so that even the young women could eat them in a single bite. I also added a sauce made from strawberry jam to keep them from looking so lonely on the plates by themselves.

 

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