If It’s for My Daughter, I’d Even Defeat a Demon Lord: Volume 7

by CHIROLU

  1: Sequel: The Platinum-haired Maiden and the Delicious Breakfast

  After a lot happened (later historians would sigh if they heard the events summed up in that manner), Dale and Latina returned to their everyday lives in Kreuz.

  On the day of their return, the pair had an early dinner before the bar entered into its main sales period at night. As Latina served as the “adorable waitress” of the Dancing Ocelot, and Dale often didn’t return till nighttime because of his work, they often ate dinner during the break periods when there were lulls in the amount of business. However, there would surely be a lot of customers packed into the bar on that night. There may not even be a short moment to take a break. It was incredibly easy to imagine.

  Even if the owners said “don’t come,” a statement which should never be uttered by people in the service business, it would surely have no effect. In fact, even now a portion of the regulars had entrenched themselves in part of the customer seating and were waiting, even though there wasn’t anything going on at the moment.

  Thinking in the back of his mind that the amount of preparations needing to be done would definitely increase and planning accordingly, the owner Kenneth thought that, though it was wrong to have her do so this soon after her return, he’d need to have Latina give her all to help out. But in order to do so, he’d need to provide her with fuel first. For that “fuel,” Kenneth whipped up dinner as quickly as always, and then laid it out on the table in the corner of the kitchen.

  “Woooooow!” The voice that Latina let out in that moment was more out of sheer joy than admiration. After checking the contents of the plate, she bounded over to grab some bread. She placed a large round loaf atop the cutting board, and then inserted her knife into it with a somewhat serious expression on her face.

  Kenneth stocked several varieties of bread from a bakery he was familiar with in the kitchen, to match with different dishes. Seeing what the meal would be, Latina chose a plain white bread to pair with it.

  Latina placed the basket with a heap of bread in it on the table and took her seat, seemingly unable to contain her excitement. It felt likely she would even break into her usual slightly off-key humming.

  “It’s nothing all that special...” Kenneth said, looking a little perplexed by how Latina was so overjoyed as he laid out the rest of the meal he had made. Latina looked up at Kenneth with a look that said she clearly wasn’t overreacting at all.

  “It’s my first time having your cooking in a long time!”

  “Well, I suppose that’s true, but still...”

  “Why can’t you understand just how amazing this is...?” Latina asked, her eyes tearing up just a bit.

  Perplexed by Latina’s excessive response, Kenneth looked over at Dale who was seated at her side, but he didn’t seem to find it strange at all, and just gave a strained smile instead.

  “It was... a little rough over there...”

  “I feel bad for Chrysos, but I really just couldn’t live in Vassilios...”

  Latina usually had fantastic manners, but now she unusually picked up a slice of bread and bit right in to it. She then chewed it thoroughly, awash with emotion.

  “Dale, it’s so delicious...!”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Dale was reverting back to his old doting idiot self, stroking the head of that girl, who had recovered a bit from the awful state she had been in back in Vassilios, like one would do to a small child. Even so, the air about Latina now was such that anyone, not just a doting idiot like Dale, would want to do likewise.

  “...What happened?”

  Kenneth was starting to think something serious had occurred without them knowing, only for Dale to face him with a strained smile.

  “How should I put it...? The food in Vassilios was extraordinarily bad.”

  “...huh?”

  “It was so unappetizing that it was shocking.”

  “...I see.”

  It was decidedly not a serious matter. However, that most definitely wasn’t the case for those who had faced it.

  “The food... it’s good... so good...”

  The tears of joy Latina shed when she started eating clearly told part of the story.

  She had successfully completed her mission of spreading the jam that Kenneth had carefully prepared atop the bread, as if striving to push the bread to the limit of its surface tension. Then, she stuffed it in her mouth, and the tears really started flowing.

  When she took a bite of the grilled chicken that had been marinated with herbs and spices, the overflowing juices filled her mouth and she trembled with emotion.

  Latina had always enjoyed trying new things, like pondering how it would be alternating very sweet and salty foods. She also liked to give each food its own time, in order to sample the flavor thoroughly. It was extremely rare to see her shovel food into her mouth without stopping like she was currently doing.

  “Weren’t you in Vassilios’s palace?”

  “This food is so delicious...”

  “I suppose it was something like a royal castle, and it wasn’t as if we were treated poorly.”

  The place they had stayed was a temple of Banafsaj, but at the same time it was also the “palace” of the ruler of the nation, the First Demon Lord. It differed greatly in style from those of Laband, but there was no issue in thinking of it as a “castle.”

  And Dale had sensed that because Chrysos doted on her sister Latina, they were treated as if they were nobles while they were there.

  “That was why that awful taste was so surprising.”

  “If you’re willing to say all that, then you’ve actually roused my interest...”

  Seeing Kenneth thinking with a serious look on his face, Latina gulped down the contents of her mouth and then flatly replied, “Eating food from Vassilios makes you really appreciate the feeling of happiness eating a good meal gives you.”

  “That sure is an assertion...”

  “Chrysos is working real hard, so I think there should be a cultural exchange with Laband. Especially food culture... please... let the food culture improve...”

  Latina heaped jam upon the next piece of bread, too.

  “This food... is so delicious...”

  “You just keep saying that...”

  “When I was little, that was the norm... When I came to Kreuz, I came to understand that the circumstances I lived in weren’t quite normal, and I figured that may have been the same for the food,” Latina said with a distant gaze, with a sort of enlightenment about her.

  “I see...”

  Latina hadn’t questioned the circumstances under which she was born and raised when she was young. She had spent every day living a quiet life with her kind parents and twin sister, attended by adults who were a bit formal. She was young and that was the only “normal” she had known, so she hadn’t questioned it.

  When she came to Kreuz, where every day was so lively and busy, she also saw the lives of her friends and realized that the circumstances she was born and raised under were unique. She was also properly aware that those circumstances differed from those of princesses from within picture books, because her mother was a high-ranking priestess and they had lived in a temple of Banafsaj.

  As a strict yet fair man, her late father Smaragdi had firmly taught his young daughters that the authority their mother held as grand priestess was not their own, as they were separate people despite being family. One of the things that Smaragdi especially hated were people who threw around the authority of others and acted arrogantly.

  When it was determined via prophecy that one of
his daughters would become the ruler of the nation, that meant at the same time that the other girl would not be chosen. The way that their parents had raised their daughters strictly, so that they could walk their own differing paths, was an expression of their deep love.

  And since Latina had grown up to have truly flexible thinking, having taken in the differing values of a foreign country along the way, she was able to conjecture on the circumstances she had lived in when she was young. From the threat of the Second Demon Lord mentioned by her parents and the fact that the previous First Demon Lord had been killed, she had been able to guess that they had been raised in the depths of the temple because neither she nor her twin sister Chrysos would have become the next First Demon Lord.

  The food culture in Laband and her motherland might have differed greatly, but it was possible that the food she had experienced while being raised in secret in the depths of the temple had been unique in and of itself. Sooner or later, that was what Latina had come to think.

  But in this latest stay there, Latina became painfully aware that that wasn’t the case, and that the quality of the food culture of her homeland was truly disappointing.

  “My position in Vassilios is complicated, so I’m scared of getting involved in politics... and I’m even more afraid that Chrysos will be influenced by my words.”

  That fear was a big reason behind why Latina had been so insistent on returning to Kreuz. Chrysos would deny it, and Latina didn’t think as seriously on the matter as she had before, but her past as a “criminal” who had been exiled couldn’t be overturned. There were surely many people in that nation who wouldn’t view that fact favorably.

  Just as some humans had a deep-seated aversion to other races, it wasn’t easy to get rid of the distaste for those whose horns, the revered symbols of the devil race, had been injured. In that nation, the readily visible punishment of having one’s horn broken held great significance.

  As someone whose very existence was such a delicate matter, it was impossible to deny that if she stayed too close by the side of Chrysos, the king, then it may lead to her sister facing more distrust than she normally would. As a smart, kind girl by nature, that fact wasn’t something that Latina could turn a blind eye towards.

  “It’s not as if we can never meet... and the situation will surely change once Chrysos’s rule stabilizes, but... for now, Kreuz is still the only place for me to say ‘I’m home.’”

  Latina smiled, then ate a spoonful of the soup stuffed full of plenty of vegetables that was a staple of the Ocelot. Of course, Kenneth wasn’t her mother, but to Latina, this taste was something like “mom’s home cooking.”

  “And... it was really rough, since the food in Vassilios was so bad.”

  “So you came on back.”

  “Sure enough, I could never tell Chrysos... that I couldn’t stay in Vassilios because the food tasted so awful...”

  Latina had grown up in the Dancing Ocelot, which took pride in its cooking even amongst the restaurants of Kreuz, so the quality of meals was incredibly important to her. Ever since the shock of that first bite of Kenneth’s cooking, rather than aimlessly enjoying food, she had continued to strive to learn to cook on her own, diligently devoting herself to the task.

  That was all for the sake of deliciousness.

  “It would have been preferable if they would have just let me handle things, but that wasn’t a possibility...”

  “Yeah, I can’t imagine they ever would have let you.”

  Everyone associated with the Ocelot was already aware of the fact that Latina’s sister was the Golden King, the ruler of Vassilios. Working in the kitchen was generally considered a job meant for subordinates. Kenneth took pride in his work, but his way of thinking didn’t match up with that of the world at large.

  “Still, Latina, you did go into the kitchen from time to time, right?” Dale interjected. Latina averted her gaze, seemingly feeling awkward.

  †

  After becoming an extraordinary being as the retainer of the Eighth Demon Lord, Dale became able to keep on acting with hardly any sustenance or sleep. Thanks in part to that, he at first paid no attention at all to the state of food in Vassilios. He didn’t have time to be worrying about taste, and was only concerned with whether or not he got that bare minimum amount of nutrition needed. Washing down the portable rations he had on hand with water had been plenty. All of his time and thoughts had been devoted to watching over Latina, in what felt like one long day spent in a dream. Or rather, it should be said that just looking at Latina had been enough to fulfill Dale at that point. He had prioritized that special medicine for his Latina deficiency over the three great necessities of food, sex, and sleep.

  Before long Latina had started to recover and became able to move around, which is when the two of them paid attention to the matter of food.

  When she first chewed the food, more than a face that said it was disgusting, Latina wore an expression of great sadness. It was a truly disappointed reaction.

  Propped up by the pillow provided atop the bed, Latina looked at the food on the plate carried in by a lady-in-waiting, and her expression shifted to a depressed one. Dale wasn’t used to seeing her like that.

  “...Latina?”

  “The food... isn’t good...” Latina let slip as she muttered to herself in a tearful voice, as she brought the spoon slowly closer to her mouth. Dale’s initial reaction upon hearing that was to think that she still wasn’t back to her usual self.

  Dale had watched over Latina ever since she was little, and when she ate, it brought joy even to the onlookers seeing her eat. And so, he thought that she must not have recovered enough yet to properly enjoy a meal.

  Dale came to properly understand her statement when she had recovered further and became able to sit at the dining table alongside him. They had been in the habit of eating together for many years now. His own need to eat a secondary concern in the matter, Dale naturally decided to eat alongside her.

  And after taking a bite of the meal provided, Dale unthinkingly yelled out, “That’s awful!”

  It was then that Dale had a sudden realization.

  Latina apparently wasn’t fond of saying something tasted bad. She respected cooking, and was deeply fond of food.

  “Wow... it’s shockingly bad...”

  Dale bluntly voiced his true feelings because the only ones currently in the villa serving as Latina’s private room were the girl herself and the devil ladies-in-waiting. Unlike Chrysos, they were unable to understand the language of humans, Western Continental, which Dale generally used.

  The food laid out atop the table looked different even from a simple glance. As a result, Dale had been completely unable to guess at how it would taste. However, he had never expected it would taste this bad.

  “Latina... what is this?”

  “It’s called ***. It’s... supposed to be made by cooking ****** together with ***.”

  “Well then what about this...?”

  “I believe... it’s *****. It’s made by pickling ****** meat in *** and **** and then cooking it.”

  The majority of the key information was in devil language, making it utterly incomprehensible to him.

  The dish Dale had first indicated seemed to be a gruel made out of some sort of grain. He couldn’t quite identify the paste-like substance with bits of grain floating here and there throughout. It hardly had any flavor to it. It was hard to swallow, though, and had a texture about it that was incredibly difficult to describe. The gritty bits of grain left half-done in the dish were also incomprehensible.

  The next thing Dale pointed out he could at least identify as a sort of meat dish.

  Having come from a clan of hunters, he first realized that the meat had been poorly handled. They apparently hadn’t even prepared it properly. The stench of it was terribly strong; furthermore, the juices had been extracted, leaving it all dry, and it was overly spiced with herbs, giving it the bitter taste and scent of medicine.

/>   Put bluntly, it was awful.

  Dale wasn’t left thinking that opinion was solely because he was a human, since he saw Latina squirming with a sad look on her face as she chewed the hard meat.

  “In Vassilios... the most delicious food is the ******* fruit.”

  “You just eat it as is?”

  “Yeah...”

  That couldn’t be called cooking.

  In that way, Dale had come to learn how awful the food culture in Vassilios was.

  “Back when I was a kid... this was how our meals were... so this was normal for me. So when I first ate Kenneth’s cooking, I was really surprised. There were so many different flavors.”

  Dale found it a hard thing to comment on, leaving him making a face like he was having trouble figuring out what to say. And so, Latina had spoken with an awkward, powerless smile on her face.

  Dale thought back on when Latina had first eaten in Kreuz. It was true that her eyes had gleamed when she saw the dessert that Kenneth had made. The adorableness of little Latina looking up at him with sparkling eyes as if to report how happy she was had tightly grabbed hold of his heart. He had just happened to pick her up, but after seeing such a wide, innocent smile pointed at him, it was no surprise that he couldn’t ever consider letting her go. Yeah, there was no helping it. That was the absolute truth.

  “You really were cute back then... Right, so... what about sweets...?”

  “I can’t remember there being anything but fruit...”

  “I see...”

  At the time, Dale had thought Latina’s reaction was excessive, but he’d figured it was because she had been in the harsh environment of that forest, where she had been unable to have a proper meal. But for her, the culture shock had been an even greater part of that experience.

  “Apparently... not many crops can be grown in Vassilios. But for devils, even adult males don’t need as much food as humans, so... things work out somehow, I think,” Latina said, looking like she was remembering back on her past. Latina hadn’t studied such matters in detail, but by matching up what she had heard from her father and observed from her surroundings with what she had seen and heard after going to Laband, she figured her thoughts on the matter couldn’t have been off by much.