Chapter 192

Arndt was looking with displeasure at the kitchen that was packed full, even down to the smallest shelf.

Normally, he would have accepted such abundance as a miracle that came during these impoverished days and offered prayers of gratitude.

But the problem was that it was His Highness the Crown Prince who had created this abundant kitchen.

Should he be grateful, or should he say that the price had been fully paid for the unannounced visit?

But the detestable Crown Prince was one thing, and his mouth was another.

He soon rolled up his sleeves and began mixing finely ground flour with water, making dough.

With such a variety of ingredients, he could make anything delicious. Perhaps His Grace might even taste a bite of the meal.

Though Leandros periodically brought back game from hunting, since it was all meat, it was somewhat burdensome for the ailing Arenheit to eat.

As a result, the strange situation had developed where Arndt and Leandros ate fresh, tender young deer meat while His Grace was only provided with herbal juices and thin porridge.

Arndt, who had unintentionally provided such a meager diet, was on the verge of being crushed by guilt.

But from today it would be different. At least until this kitchen became empty again, he would provide His Grace with meals that were easy to digest and nutritious.

Later, when His Grace fully recovered, perhaps the three of them would be able to work enough to make a living...

Arndt felt as if the time of suffering over His Grace's madness had flown by.

Judging by Arenheit's manner of speech and attitude when dealing with His Highness the Crown Prince, he harbored hope that there had been some improvement.

Arndt, who had been vigorously kneading the dough, tore off large pieces to make several portions. After putting the dough in the oven and washing his hands, he suddenly looked toward the entrance.

Leandros was late returning.

* * *

"What is this?"

"I boiled bread for a long time and added various things. Ah, that yellow thing is egg yolk."

"Why did you do such a thing?"

"Because it's naturally nutritious food for Your Grace! Do you not like it?"

Nutritious food had its own standards.

The health food that Arndt had developed after much deliberation looked like warm bibimbap porridge.

Instead of grains, he had torn bread into small pieces and added it, along with beans, vegetables, and everything else he thought was good for health.

When he scooped up a spoonful, a leaf that had cooked thoroughly and was on the verge of melting into a mushy dark green came up and then dripped down.

This kind of thing... nutritious food?

"......"

"Take a big bite! It tastes best when it's warm."

Arndt had always been responsible for the dining table in past lives. He recalled the days when they had to rely on his cooking skills until a proper chef arrived.

Arndt was good at cooking, and even with poor ingredients, he had managed to create meals of surprising quality that amazed him and Leandros.

But now his enthusiasm seemed excessive.

"I appreciate the thought, but I'm not particularly hungry right now."

"What are you saying? Your condition has worsened because you've been eating only that kind of porridge until now. If you drink even just the broth, you'll surely feel better. Come on, drink it all. All of it-"

No, he was saying he didn't need to eat food.

His physical condition was due to repeated regressions and had nothing to do with nutritional intake. Rather, if he ate meals, his stomach couldn't handle it and he would have problems.

Why should he, who could barely manage a few sips of liquids, have to eat such a heavy meal?

...But if he said that, Arndt would surely get angry or sad.

Steeling his reluctant heart, he barely managed to scoop up one spoonful and put the mushy bread pieces in his mouth.

Arndt watched with expectant eyes and asked.

"How is it? It tastes good, doesn't it?"

"Have you tried this?"

"Me? Why would I? Of course, since it's Your Grace's portion, I didn't even touch it."

"...Yes. It's better not to know. Please remain ignorant forever."

The moment he took one bite, his vision flashed and he felt dizzy.

After the subtly sweet bread, salty broth wreaked havoc, then sour fermented vegetables rinsed his mouth, followed by bitter herbs that forced down something awful.

After swallowing, his mouth was left with a sour smell as chaotic as the morning after the last day of a college retreat.

He hadn't experienced such cooking since his younger brother's first attempt at miso soup.

Wouldn't fighting Yurik one more time be better than eating a whole bowl of this?

"Won't you eat more?"

"I'm tired. I just want to sleep. Just give me a glass of water."

While he earnestly rinsed his mouth with the water Arndt provided, Arndt was cleaning up the dishes and bowls.

Watching this, he suddenly became curious and asked.

"Is there some urgent matter?"

"Pardon?"

"I'm asking if there's some urgent matter. You seem to be in a hurry."

When Arndt brought him meals, he would usually chatter about the day's activities and even trivial matters, so cleaning up often came later.

He knew this was because Arndt hoped it would help him, so he didn't say anything about it.

But today, as soon as he finished eating, Arndt was hurriedly cleaning up.

Arndt hesitated while holding a fork in one hand and a heavy bowl in the other, then answered.

"It's nothing serious. Sir Leandros went out on patrol this morning and hasn't returned yet, so I thought I should go out and look for him."

"Leandros?"

"Please don't worry too much, Your Grace. Sir Leandros is someone who can handle most demonic beasts without trouble. I'm sure he'll return soon before it gets too late. I'll go out to meet him."

"I want to go too."

"No, Your Grace should rest. Please stay here."

"But!"

"I'll look for him. Please sleep safely."

Arndt handed him the familiar small cup.

Inside the cup, green juice was sloshing around. It was medicine he took three times a day.

After giving him the medicine, Arndt said "Then have pleasant dreams" and closed the bedroom door as he left.

He stared at the opaque juice, then left it on the table without drinking it and pulled the blanket over himself.

He wasn't trying to sleep. Since he couldn't sleep anyway, effort was meaningless.

Instead, he curled up under the blanket and counted seconds. When 2,045 seconds had passed, he sensed movement outside the door.

The door opened slightly, stayed that way for a few seconds, then closed again. Arndt seemed to have come to check if he was really staying put.

As soon as the door closed and he counted another 1,000 seconds, he burst out from under the blanket. By now, Arndt would have long since headed toward the castle gate.

Even if he was barefoot without shoes, even if he was only wearing nightclothes with nothing to wear against the cold night, it was fine.

After all, he had a body that wouldn't die. Even if he got frostbite and his feet rotted away, he felt no sentiment about it.

When he went outside, white breath rose mistily. There wasn't a single lamp to illuminate the surroundings. Well, given their circumstances, what use were lamps?

He walked around the castle once, stepping on the cold stone floor. Since he didn't know Leandros's usual patrol route, he had no choice but to wander around here and there.

A cloudy night even though it was winter.

A castle where the wind blew fiercely due to being situated on one side of a mountain range.

"Leandros. Are you there?"

His voice was swallowed by the wind.

But if he made a louder sound, Arndt on the other side might hear him.

Besides, there was no way Leandros would be this close to the castle. If he were, he would have come in already.

Come to think of it.

He thought there had been a hunting ground nearby.

When was it? He seemed to remember hearing an explanation that there was a hunting ground owned by the Hartmann ducal family nearby.

One of them was said to be off-limits because demonic beasts had come down.

Leandros wouldn't have entered the forbidden 'Land of Demonic Beasts' alone. In past lives, he had actually refused to go there.

But another hunting ground... he might well have entered there. Still, Leandros was the protagonist of this story. Was there any reason he couldn't come out?

If there was a reason he couldn't come out, there was only one.

He might have encountered a Vormi that had wandered in after getting lost.

The possibility was low.

And even if he encountered one, there was no possibility that Leandros would lose.

But he had to prepare for the worst-case scenario.

What he wanted was to end this damned story, not for the story's protagonist to die.

Fortunately, thanks to wandering around pretending to be mad all this time, he knew the geography around the castle like the back of his hand.

Even madness was helpful at times like this.

Thanks to this, when he arrived near the hunting ground following a side path without being caught by Arndt, he thought something was strange.

The hunting ground before his eyes was slightly different from the hunting ground he barely remembered from the past.

The position of the stump with the impressive large knot, the entrance where conifers had grown large, the huge rock where rabbits had darted past like arrows.

Everything seemed subtly wrong.

Why was he feeling this way?

A cold stone hit his foot and rolled away.

The hunting ground was quiet.

Branches and leaves made rustling sounds as they were swept by the wind and then returned.

As his body temperature gradually dropped, he rubbed his arms trying to warm them and raised his voice.

"Leandros! Are you here?"

His ears felt muffled.

As he went deeper and deeper, his pace quickened. His frozen feet felt pain numbly, so even stepping on rough ground didn't bother him.

He became short of breath. His stomach hurt, and his head began spinning.

"Leandros!"

Was he injured? He hadn't really encountered a demonic beast, had he? Was he dead? Why was there no answer? Leandros had sensitive hearing. Very, very sensitive hearing.

He randomly pushed aside the branches blocking his view and rampaged through the hunting ground.

Trees, trees, trees, more trees, and.

His view suddenly opened up.

A small clearing, a space that seemed to have once been used as a resting place for hunters.

On the ground where dry grass lay, a black cloak was placed.

No traveler would pass through such a secluded place, especially private property. Moreover, this familiar cloak that he had seen several times through regressions was.

"...Leandros."

There was no one around.

When he picked up the black cloak that had fallen to the ground, a book that had been placed underneath appeared.

The moment he saw the book, his chest turned cold.

What caught his attention wasn't the unusual yellow color of the cover.

It wasn't the uniquely bound format of the book, nor the title written in flowing, elegant script on the cover.

The signature stamped large below the title.

A strange mark that looked like a staff with twisted horns lying diagonally.

"No. That's not right. ...This can't be. This shouldn't happen."

A pattern he had glimpsed in passing in the Pnakotic.

The being in yellow robes standing beneath it.

The Unspeakable One. He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken. The One Without Form.

The Yellow Emperor. The owner of the yellow cloak that had been ridiculously draped over his younger brother's shoulders.

"You said you wouldn't do this..."

The last worldline where Leandros had succeeded in killing Yurik.

Before entering that worldline, just before regression, he had found another deity after much deliberation, thinking Aphoom-Zhah alone was insufficient.

His legs gave out and he collapsed on the spot.

He scratched and scratched the frozen ground with his fingernails.

His nails broke and the ground was scraped. Yet he couldn't stop his resentment.

"You said I alone was enough. You said I would be the last!"

The deity worshipped by the Hartmann family, by the former Duchess. The cursed one who contemplated the world while using his younger brother's body as an avatar.

His throat felt like it was burning hot.

Fighting the impulse to destroy himself, he looked up at the sky.

In the southern night sky obscured by black trees and clouds, there was a twinkling light.

What that light meant was clear.

Hastur, 'The King in Yellow,' had taken the story's protagonist.