Chapter 658: Battle Lines
Empress Gisella was surprised because, apparently, a reorganization was underway.
Similarly, the little princess could only blink at the sudden influx of people standing up.
"Huh? What’s happening?" In her distress, she almost jumped from her chair until the Duchess spoke, effectively rattling the first-timers.
"Ah, Your Highness, it’s their battle preparations."
"B-battle preparations?!" The child was scandalized, her eyes round, until Duchess Amelia calmly continued.
"Yes. They’re strategizing. At one point, we had the opportunity to grill our own food. And it was then that people discovered how some were just naturally talented at cooking, while others should never think of it again."
The princess gasped softly. The Emperor leaned forward, clearly unsure if he should laugh or take it seriously.
"But then there are also other factors to consider," Amelia went on smoothly. "Like hand speed and appetite. The elders are not to be trifled with. Unless you are on a diet, you would not want to be in their line of fire."
"Then, there are those who like sharing their food or only eat smaller portions by nature. And so they tend to be popular every mealtime."
The moment Amelia finished, chaos erupted. Head Maid Gloria, Butler Gary, and Steward Han, being people heavily involved in the kitchen, suddenly became the most popular figures in the room.
Several groups argued over them loudly, claiming that people who could cook well should not all be seated together. Blessings, after all, were better shared.
The Duke looked mortified. "That can’t be! Are you saying we shouldn’t sit together?!" He screeched so loudly that the entire room turned. He was convinced they were plotting to separate him from his precious son.
But surprisingly, everyone just looked at him with sour expressions before promptly turning back to fighting over the head maid, the butler, and the steward.
"???"
"Hey! Hey!" The Duke tried to shout some sense into them, but Duchess Amelia just reached over and bonked him on the head.
"Leander, the smartest choice would have been to give you your own pot. But because we are family, here we are, thankfully balancing your curse with your son’s abilities."
The Duke huffed, cheeks puffing, but his mood could not remain sour for long. Not when he was seated close to his precious boy, which meant victory was already on their side.
"Is it always like this?" asked the Empress, wide-eyed as she watched cadets in the background trying to reorganize themselves like soldiers preparing for combat.
Surprisingly, Kyle had also been eyed by Princess Kira. But Ollie latched onto him like a defensive barnacle, proving impenetrable as he guarded his boyfriend and personal cook.
Only, Ollie’s hold faltered when his own father raised a hand with a request.
"Pop!" Ollie gasped.
"Now you know how to say Pop?!" Kyle’s eyes twitched as Marquis Mylor berated his little mop.
Meanwhile, the strategic repositioning continued noisily in the background. Duchess Amelia answered Empress Gisella’s question with serene poise.
"Not always. Apparently, it wasn’t always this peaceful."
"T-this is peaceful?!" asked the Emperor in disbelief.
"Tsk." Duke Leander shook his head with the weight of experience. "Before, they were grabbing weapons and beating each other to secure fried chicken rights. Now at least they are able to talk amongst themselves."
"At one point, we even held a tournament. It was an issue of who would be guarding and eating outside while the others remained inside."
The room fell silent.
"..."
"..."
"..."
The people from the Imperial faction looked at each other as if alarmed, while Nina gazed at her brother chipmunk with even greater awe than before.
But all doubts and confusion vanished the moment the feast began.
Hearts thumped wildly as everyone tried to imitate Luca. From the way he sat straight-backed, to the way he carefully mixed his sesame garlic oil, even down to the way he picked up the meat with precision, no one dared to deviate. Every move became a sacred manual.
When their first slices of meat slid into the bubbling broth, the sizzle of hot liquid echoed in the silence. Seconds later, the thin ribbons of meat came out glistening, tender, and steaming. Utter stillness held the room until the first brave bites were taken.
Those who stuffed their mouths as if survival depended on it were many. Yet it was Little Nina who first cried out.
The little girl did not realize it right away, but she was too short to reach the pot without standing on her chair.
She was worried.
But suddenly, her brother chipmunk held a freshly cooked slice of meat up to her lips, just as he had done for her brother earlier.
Her heart swelled. Her eyes sparkled. The little girl thought she could not possibly love him more. But the instant that meat touched her tongue, her entire world exploded.
Her small body trembled, her shoulders shook, and then she poofed, almost fainting with bliss. Tender, juicy, melting like silk on her tongue—she had never tasted anything so magnificent.
"Ahhh—!" she squeaked, her hands flying to her cheeks as if she could hold in the joy.
Around her, the dam finally burst. Elders, cadets, and alleged youngsters alike broke their own personal sound barriers. Groans, sighs, gasps, and even pitiful whimpers filled the air. They had tasted meat before, of course, yet somehow this same meat, once bathed in Luca’s new broth, had transformed into something transcendent.
Princess Kira blinked furiously, almost offended. "I... I didn’t even chew. It just vanished!" she declared, cheeks puffed in disbelief.
Ollie, on the other hand, was quietly being fed by Kyle. He opened his mouth obediently, chewed once, and then immediately crumbled. Tears that he had fought to hold back since earlier finally slid down his cheeks. Kyle sighed and patted his back gently, consoling him as the blonde hiccupped through bites.
And then, cutting through the chorus of awe, came a sound that made every ear twitch.
A slurp. Followed by a strange hissing gasp.
All eyes snapped toward the culprit.
It was Uno.
In his panic earlier, he had mistaken the pots and dipped his meat into the fiery red broth while everyone else had chosen the clear one.
What was life, death, and resurrection? What was the purpose of existence?
If anyone had asked Shadow Uno before tonight, he would have shrugged and gone back to his silent duties.
But as the meat, clumsily held by chopsticks he was still learning to use, reached his tongue, the answer struck him with divine clarity.
Food.
That slice of meat was truth itself.
Uno’s entire existence condensed into that single bite. He chewed. He swallowed. He sat frozen, eyes wide, lips trembling. And then, slowly, he looked up to find everyone staring at him, demanding an explanation.
He straightened, his expression feverish, and declared like a prophet, "It’s the spicy broth! The spicy broth!!!"
The room erupted.
All hell broke loose as people scrambled to reach the pot of fire-red liquid in front of them, discovering the land beyond mere chili flakes. Ladles clashed, sauces spilled, and voices shouted as they dove headfirst into the new world of spice.
And so began the true trial of the evening: surviving the adventure of creating their own dips.