Some time passed.
Well. No point dwelling on it any further.
Haimer withdrew his gaze from the direction of the kitchen, turned his head, and looked at Hestia — who was staring at him with undisguised expectation — and at the ring of girls around her who hadn't said a word, but whose eyes were screaming hungry and want food just as loudly.
It wasn't just Hestia.
Even the usually composed Holy Emperor, at this moment, had let her gaze drift — with poorly concealed curiosity — toward the platter of steaming roast meat on the table beside her.
Understandable, really.
After a full day of exertion and a long stretch of tension finally unwinding, the body's craving for sustenance was the most honest thing about a person.
"All right."
Haimer smiled, dropped any pretense of making them wait, and raised a hand — waving over at Anya, who was standing across the way with her order pad, ears twitching in barely-contained anticipation.
"Miss Anya, let's order."
"On my way, nya!"
Anya darted over instantly, her pen already spinning between her fingers at a dizzying speed.
Haimer pointed to the most eye-catching items on the menu — the ones already circled by previous patrons with enthusiastic recommendations.
"First, Mama Mia's special bone-in roast. Largest portion available."
"Two orders…"
"No, make it four."
He glanced sideways at Kyoubou — the black bear currently sprawled on the floor, eyes tracking every passing tray with hypnotic dedication — and raised one more finger.
"Kyoubou needs his share too, after all."
"Roarr~——!"
Kyoubou, apparently having understood every word, let out a low rumble that somehow managed to sound entirely pleased with itself, and butted his massive head affectionately against Haimer's leg.
Haimer gave a resigned little smile and continued flipping through the menu.
"Then…"
"Cream chowder — Hestia already had her eye on this one, so let's get a full pot."
"The description says it's made with milk from the specialty herds of Alfreist. Let's add a second pot."
"Good for the children. They could use the nourishment."
"Fish and chips — excellent drinking food."
"Eight orders."
"Lot of people tonight."
"And the dipping sauce — make sure they're generous with it. Kids tend to love that sweet-and-sour flavor."
"And this one…"
"Whole roast chicken."
"Mama Mia's signature dish."
"Two birds."
"As for drinks…"
Haimer paused.
Amou Kirukiru, Onigawara Rin, Hanasaka Warabi… even the Holy Emperor.
In this other world, the rules around drinking age were admittedly rather relaxed — but given the nature of this particular meal, a welcoming feast, it was better to exercise a little restraint.
"One barrel of the finest dwarven ale you have."
"Nothing that strips the throat raw — something smooth and full-bodied. A good malt."
"As for the younger ones…"
Haimer glanced over at Aihara Enju, Hiruko Kohina, and Inaba Tsukuyo.
"Freshly squeezed juice. A pitcher of every flavor you've got."
"Try to use the sweeter fruits."
"I imagine their palates have been fairly dull these past few days. They could do with something sweet to brighten things up."
"And it'll be a good chance to find out what they like."
"Got it, nya!"
"Writing it all down, nya!"
Anya scrawled away in her notepad at a furious pace, her shorthand looking more like abstract art than legible script, calling out her acknowledgments between strokes.
That slender tail of hers was swishing back and forth behind her with barely-contained excitement — clearly thrilled by an order this large.
After all.
It wasn't her pocket the money was going into, true enough.
But as long as Mama Mia was happy, there was a decent chance tonight's staff meal might come with an extra chicken leg.
The order was placed.
Before long.
The already lively atmosphere of the hall surged even higher as a wave of rich, heady aromas came rolling through the room — and the kitchen began sending out dish after dish of steaming food in a relentless stream.
Mama Mia, it turned out, did not mess around behind the stove.
She might go around spouting mercenary lines like "as long as the money's there, they could tear the place apart for all I care" — but when it came to food, she put in every ounce of her craft.
Not only were the portions staggering — every plate piled up like a small mountain — the speed was nothing short of astonishing.
The long table Haimer had assembled was covered in a matter of minutes, every inch of it claimed by some dish or another, until there was barely room left to set down a cup.
Two whole roast chickens — golden brown and crackling — claimed the two ends of the table like sentinels.
Their skin still hissed and sputtered under the lingering heat, fat bubbling to the surface with tiny explosive little pops.
Golden grease slid in rivulets down the plump breast meat, dripping onto the white ceramic plates below and congealing on contact into gleaming little beads of oil.
The scent of rosemary and black pepper hit the nostrils like a declaration of intent.
Beside them sat a mountain of fish and chips.
Golden batter, impossibly crisp, wrapped around tender white fish fillets shipped directly from the port of Meren — the flesh still visibly flaking through the coating, wisps of steam curling off the surface.
Paired with a house-made pickle tartare sauce, the sweet-sour fragrance alone was enough to set mouths watering before the first bite.
And then there was the great pot of cream chowder.
Bubbling away steadily, sending up lazy curls of steam.
Ivory-white broth rolling with chunks of smoked bacon, thick-cut red carrot wedges, and plump button mushroom pieces.
Every bubble that broke the surface carried with it a waft of rich, milky warmth.
"Cheers!"
Haimer raised his wooden cup, and everyone at the table followed suit.
The cups knocked together.
A hollow, cheerful clatter.
Ale sloshed. Juice swayed.
"Whoa!"
"This is incredible!"
Aihara Enju stared at the spread before her, eyes going completely vacant with wonder.
She couldn't look away.
Those red eyes of hers reflected the entire feast laid out across the table, pupils widening almost imperceptibly.
Her throat moved on its own — a single, unmistakably audible swallow.
Back in the old world.
Even for Cursed Children living under protection, the food had mostly been compact ration bars — the kind hard enough to chip a tooth — or assorted powdered calories mixed into bowl after bowl of utterly textureless grey sludge.
It filled the stomach.
That was the beginning and end of the point.
The taste was invariably the same: synthetic, chemical, flat.
Real food — food with color, fragrance, texture, with visible grain in the meat and steam rising off the surface — was the kind of thing that only existed in dreams.
Or in the pages of discarded old magazines, yellowed and dog-eared.
So.
The moment Haimer gave her a nod of permission.
Aihara Enju reached across without a second's hesitation and grabbed one of the roast chicken's drumsticks straight off the platter.
Fresh from the oven, it was still blazing hot.
The moment her fingertips touched that scorching skin, her body flinched back on instinct.
"Sss—"
She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.
But she didn't put it down.
Instead, she began rapidly tossing it back and forth between both hands, letting the air do the work.
Then.
Aihara Enju opened her mouth wide.
And bit down hard.
Crunch.
The sound of the crispy skin shattering between her teeth rang out, clear and distinct.
That was the sound of fat and flour fused together perfectly under high heat — a sound that was itself almost a flavor.
A moment later.
A rush of scalding, abundant juices surged through the breach, flooding her mouth, burning the tip of her tongue just enough to make it tingle — and yet so savory, so rich, that she would have gladly swallowed her own tongue along with it.
A thin line of juice even escaped the corner of her mouth and traced its way down her chin.
"Mm! It's so good!"
Both cheeks puffed out, her mouth stuffed past comfortable capacity, chewing with some difficulty — and yet she kept going, kept announcing it in a muffled, garbled voice, refusing to slow down for even a moment.
"This taste…"
"Ten thousand times better than those grey paste rations!"
"The skin — so crispy!"
"And the meat inside — so tender!"
She'd been eating too fast, too eagerly.
Dark brown sauce had smeared itself generously across Aihara Enju's entire mouth.
And one rogue droplet of grease had traced its way down her chin and now trembled precariously at the hem of her somewhat worn collar.
Haimer, seated at the head of the table, watched all of this unfold.
He reached over quite naturally, picked up one of the clean white napkins beside him, and leaned slightly forward.
Carefully and gently, he wiped the sauce from the corner of Aihara Enju's mouth, then caught that dangling grease stain on her collar before it could do any further damage.
"Eat as much as you like."
"If it's not enough, we can order more — just tell me what you want. Mama Mia keeps a very well-stocked kitchen."
Haimer smiled faintly, without the slightest trace of judgment at her table manners.
For a child who had known nothing but cold stares and hunger in the world she came from, the utterly unguarded, pure joy on Aihara Enju's face right now was — to Haimer — something quietly, deeply gratifying.
He turned his head.
His gaze settled on Hiruko Kohina, who was sitting beside her, staring blankly at the enormous bone-in roast on her plate.
This girl who, in her old life, had taken interest in nothing but killing — right now she looked completely at a loss.
She was holding her fork. But she had no idea where to begin.
Haimer smiled, picked up the serving knife and fork, and cut the massive roast into bite-sized pieces for her.
"Go ahead."
Hiruko Kohina looked up at him.
Those eyes of hers — always so full of wild intensity and barely-leashed bloodlust — were filled now with something else entirely: confusion.
She looked at Haimer.
Then looked back down at the neatly cut pieces of meat on her plate.
This is… for her?
Hiruko Kohina hesitated.
Then.
She extended her fork, and clumsily speared a piece of meat.
Put it in her mouth.
Chewed.
The juices burst open inside her mouth.
That small face of hers broke into an expression of pure, simple contentment.
"Mm."
"Kami-sama…"
"The meat."
"…Good."
The whole tableau.
Everyone around the table had been watching.
Seeing the natural, unaffected warmth that Haimer showed — something in each of them stilled for just a moment.
The air around the table, in that instant, became quietly, indefinably tender.
Meanwhile.
On the other side of a single wall.
The kitchen.
The clamor from the hall — the overlapping voices, the cheerful clinking of plates, the dense warm smell of food — was muffled by the half-open heavy wooden door, rendered hazy and distant.
Back here, the light was dim.
Only a single Magic Stone lamp overhead, its glass clouded with grease, cast a thin and feeble glow.
The air carried the faintly greasy smell of unwashed dishes and the slow rot of aged wood.
A pale green figure was leaning against the doorframe at the edge of the storage room's shadow.
——Ryu.
She wasn't out front working her usual shift — carrying plates, wiping tables.
Under the pretext of fetching ingredients, she had slipped into this quieter, dimmer corner of the kitchen.
And through the narrow gap of the half-open door.
She was watching — with those sky-blue eyes of hers, unblinking — the black-haired deity seated at the head of the long table out in the hall.
Confusion.
It was written across every inch of her face.
Because.
Hestia was here.
Which meant.
Just a short while ago.
From Ryu's vantage point.
The moment that deity had pushed the front door open and led his group of newcomers inside — the moment the little bell above the door let out its bright, cheerful ding — Syr, who had just been bustling cheerfully through the hall and calling out greetings to the regulars, had frozen solid.
As if she'd spotted a natural disaster on two legs.
Without so much as a word to Mama Mia, without a backward glance, she'd used the excuse of feeling unwell to bolt straight for the staff break room.
And locked the door behind her.
This reaction.
It wasn't unprecedented.
After all.
The first time that deity had walked in, Syr had done something very similar.
True.
Syr had given an explanation afterward.
But.
A second time doing the same thing — that was more than just strange. It was bordering on inexplicable.
Because Syr was the very soul of [The Benevolent Mistress] — the face of the tavern, the girl who could handle absolutely anything that walked through that door.
No matter how crude and belligerent the adventurer.
No matter how difficult the drunk.
Even the most eccentric of deities.
Syr could defuse it all with that harmless, guileless smile of hers — leave the troublemaker without a single leg to stand on, then somehow have them eating out of her hand before they knew what happened.
In all of Ryu's memory, Syr had never been afraid of anyone.
And yet, twice now.
The moment that one deity appeared.
Without any direct confrontation at all.
She had simply run.
Why?
The thought of it drew Ryu's smooth brow into a deep, troubled furrow.
Because the last time she'd gone to confront him — convinced he had some ulterior motive toward Syr — his answer had been: he didn't know her.
His manner had been open, untroubled. No sign of guilt or evasion.
It hadn't looked like an act.
And afterward, she'd gone to Syr privately as well.
Syr's expression had been a little strange at the time, but she had denied it too.
The misunderstanding had seemed resolved.
The two of them, apparently, had no connection at all.
And yet.
There was no faking the genuine care he showed toward his Familia members.
No one with malice in their heart could put on a face like that.
Especially.
An image surfaced in Ryu's mind.
Just this very morning.
When that wretched Magic Stone stove — whatever was wrong with its internals — had lost control, and the knob had snapped off in her hand.
At the time, Lunor and Chloe had both been standing right there watching.
She'd gone rigid with embarrassment, wishing desperately for the floor to swallow her whole, bracing herself to be scolded or laughed at by the deity who owned it.
Because it was an expensive Magic Stone stove.
She was just a maid working off a debt.
Breaking the master's property — being reprimanded for it was only natural.
But.
He hadn't said a word of reproach.
Instead, he'd gently wiped the soot from her cheek and the tip of her nose.
In that single instant.
She had even — just briefly, just for a heartbeat — had a thought that verged on the treasonous.
The thought that it felt exactly like… Lady Astrea.
…
Right as Ryu was lost in this tangle of thoughts.
"Nya~"
"Ryu, are you slacking off?"
"What are you doing lurking in this dark little corner, nya?"
"Did you sneak back here to eat something good in secret?"
Two heads materialized from nowhere, crowding in from either side of her.
One left, one right.
——Anya and Chloe.
"Shh!"
Ryu snapped back to reality with a start, immediately making a desperate shushing gesture, pointing toward the hall outside with something bordering on panic, silently imploring them to keep it down.
Chloe blinked those sharp green eyes once.
A glint passed through them.
She ignored Ryu's warning entirely, leaned forward, and peered through the gap in the door with one quick, precise look.
Her gaze cut through the crowd and landed — with unerring accuracy — on the large table.
On the black-haired figure seated at the head of it.
"Oh~"
"So you're watching that deity, are you."
Chloe pulled back.
Turned around.
She looked at Ryu's face — faintly strained, unmistakably tinged with pink.
The corner of her mouth curled into a slow, meaningful smile.
An expression that said I see how it is and exactly as I suspected all at once.
She nudged Ryu lightly in the shoulder.
The gesture was fond. The tone was anything but innocent.
"Oh? What's this?"
"Has our Ryu been playing maid at that deity's house these past few days and gone and caught feelings, nya?"
"He is pretty handsome, I'll give him that, nya."
"Don't tell me our strait-laced, serious little Elf has finally let her heart wander, nya?"
"Don't be ridiculous!"
"I… I was simply observing the newcomers with the deity."
Ryu's voice was kept deliberately low, but it came out slightly rushed, slightly too insistent.
"Really? Sure, whatever you say, nya."
"Though now that you mention it — observing."
"That does make sense too, nya."
Chloe clearly didn't believe a syllable of it, but rolled her eyes and let it pass.
She had no intention of pressing further on that particular point.
After all, push this stiff-necked Elf too far into a corner, and she would bite.
And besides.
The real point of interest right now was indeed the newcomers that deity had brought along.
So.
Chloe followed Ryu's line of sight and looked back out at the table in the hall.
Her gaze sharpened somewhat.
"Those new arrivals don't look simple, that's for certain."
"Especially that short one from just now…"
"She looks like a child — no obvious threat at first glance."
"But…"
Chloe narrowed her eyes.
Replaying the flash of movement in her mind.
"That jump she did just now — when she leaped up onto the bar counter out of nowhere."
"Did either of you actually catch it clearly?"
"It was just a jump, nya?" Anya tilted her head, clearly unbothered by it.
"You dense creature."
Chloe raised a hand and rapped Anya smartly on the head.
Bonk.
"Ow, nya!"
Anya grabbed her head, looking deeply aggrieved.
"That explosive burst of power. The speed at takeoff."
Chloe's expression was entirely serious now.
"Zero wind-up. Static to full speed in a single instant."
"And the landing — the way she absorbed the impact."
"The muscle definition in those legs."
"That is not something an ordinary human child can do!"
Chloe rubbed her chin, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"Conservatively, I'd put her at a standard Lv.2, nya."
"Lv.2?!"
That got Anya's full attention.
"That little thing?"
"How old even is she?"
"Ten?"
"That's right."
"It seems this deity has gone and made waves again."
"And it's not just that little one, either."
"Look at that dark-haired woman with the blade."
"Her presence — it's frightening."
"She feels exactly like Ryu did back in the day, nya."
The moment those words landed.
A brief, weighted silence fell over the small kitchen space.
Ryu stiffened slightly.
She looked over at the dark-haired girl — the one who had been sitting perfectly upright the entire meal, left thumb never straying more than an inch from the handle of her blade even while eating.
That constant, coiled tension.
Like a bowstring pulled to its limit.
The resemblance was unmistakable.
It was exactly like herself, several years ago.
The her who had lost every last companion in her Familia.
Who had held their bodies deep in the Dungeon until there were no tears left to shed.
Who had shouldered a hatred as vast and deep as the ocean.
Who had walked alone through the darkest corners of Orario, consumed by rage, willing to do anything for revenge.
"Looks like she's carrying something heavy too."
Chloe let out a quiet breath.
Shook her head with a touch of weary resignation.
"Though from the look of things."
"This deity seems to have something of a talent for collecting broken children."
"A battle maniac, by all accounts — and apparently quite the troublemaker back where she came from."
"And yet now she takes every word that deity says as gospel."
"The whole of Orario knows by now."
"Just received the God's Grace, and within two days accomplished a grand exploit and achieved a premature Level Up — becoming Lv.2."
"That leveling speed puts even Sword Princess Ais Wallenstein in the shade."
"And the others too — they only took one more day each to Level Up to Lv.2."
"And judging by their performance in the Dungeon, their stats at the time of Level Up were clearly not low — this wasn't reckless advancement."
"Looking at all of this, with the eye this deity clearly has… the potential of these new recruits is almost certainly no small thing either."
"Orario… may be changing very soon."
After all.
As the best-informed tavern around.
This place, with its motley stream of all kinds of people passing through, had heard no small number of inside stories.
Especially these past few days.
Pieced together from the loose lips of a few tipsy Guild clerks, and the passing words of various adventurers who'd wandered in.
In the span of just one short week, several deities had already filed applications with the Guild — citing reasons like "returning to live in the Heavens" or "traveling to another city" — and quietly vanished from Orario.
Some hadn't even bothered to properly pack their things.
And the reasons given were, one after another, increasingly absurd.
Things like "remembered I needed to water the flowers in the temple" or "suddenly realized I never actually wanted to live in the Lower World that much."
There was even one deity who'd been drinking himself into the floor at the tavern the night before, then turned up the very next morning — gone without a word, having forcibly invoked his Divine Might to return to the Heavens under his own power.
Leaving behind an entire Familia's worth of children to flood the Guild hall in tears, lost and without direction.
The question of what to do with Familia members suddenly left without a principal deity.
The debt disputes and transfer procedures triggered by all these dissolving Familias.
The Guild staff had been run ragged these past few days.
The atmosphere across all of Orario.
Had visibly, unmistakably shifted.
"A change in the wind?"
Ryu murmured the words under her breath.
Her gaze drifted instinctively to Haimer, seated at the head of the table.
"Oh, and another thing, nya!"
Apparently having become aware that standing here in silence made her look like the least perceptive one of the group, Anya couldn't help herself and jabbed a finger forward.
Pointing at the figure seated across from Haimer — a person dressed in a white formal suit.
"That woman in the white dress."
"She looks like she doesn't know anything about how things work here."
"She had to look at everyone else before she dared pick up a fork."
"Every movement so careful."
"And she seems incredibly… fragile."
"Can someone like her really become an adventurer?"
"Who knows."
Chloe shrugged.
Withdrew her gaze.
"But…"
"Since that deity chose her, and brought her here."
"I'd imagine."
"She has something special about her too, nya."
"Just like our idiot Ryu."
Chloe turned around, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, finger pointed squarely at Ryu.
"All clumsy hands and stumbling feet — nearly wrecked the deity's stove this very morning, scared out of her wits, absolutely helpless — and yet it was the deity who ended up comforting her."
"And she let a deity she'd only known for a few days touch her face!"
"We haven't even gotten to hold her hand properly, nya!"
"Chloe!"
Ryu's voice had an edge to it now.
"All right, all right, Ryu's getting mad, okay, okay, not another word, nya."
"Back to work, back to work!"
"Mama Mia's going to take a swing at us if we keep loitering."
Chloe laughed and dodged out of reach of Ryu's outstretched hand, dragging Anya along with her.
"Move it, move it!"
The two of them darted off, giggling, and vanished back into the boisterous hall.
Leaving Ryu standing alone where she was.
Outside the door gap.
In that corner of the hall, the same warmth and noise as before.
Haimer was saying something to Hestia, smiling; Hestia was waving a chicken leg animatedly as she replied.
That table full of people.
Looked so perfectly, naturally at ease with one another.
Ryu watched it all — and thought of Syr's panicked, fleeing silhouette — and made a quiet, firm resolution in her heart.
No matter what the truth turned out to be!
It was necessary — absolutely necessary — to arrange for Syr and Kami-sama to meet face to face!
Perhaps.
There really was some kind of misunderstanding between them!
Syr was going to come with her to see Kami-sama!
Even if it kills me.
____
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