Chapter 2111: Chapter 2111

After offering the hint, the drinking skeleton tossed its bone cup into the barrel, then scooped up a full measure with a new one and poured it through the teeth of its skull.

it declared, tilting its skull back.

After that, the skeleton refused to answer any more questions, completely ignoring the Sin Coins Jenkins offered. Left with no choice, he and the elf set off once more. The whole encounter felt as if he had just unlocked some kind of hidden quest.

Leoni, however, seemed unaffected. As they continued on, she followed nervously behind Jenkins. To lighten the mood, Jenkins struck up a conversation as they climbed the wine racks, leaving the cellar corner and returning to the first floor.

"Speaking of which, have you ever seen the real World Tree?"

he asked, pulling himself up first before helping the elf. They emerged onto the first floor in a completely new room. It resembled a study, but the bookshelves were bare. A collection of strange taxidermy specimens stood against the wall by the door—not humanoid creatures, but something resembling small canines.

"I saw Her once, during my coming-of-age ceremony. She was so kind. She even kissed my cheek."

"The World Tree appeared in human form?"

"No, a branch brushed against my cheek. For Her, that is a kiss."

In the dim light, an unusual blush crept across her cheeks, making Jenkins briefly wonder about the ancient elf's peculiar tastes.

The rest of their journey was fraught with tension but largely uneventful. The most dangerous moment came when a corridor suddenly collapsed. It wasn't an event marked on the map, likely just a result of the castle's age and disrepair.

The collapse itself wasn't a major threat to Jenkins and Leoni, but it revealed what lay in the basement below: a three-headed hound. Only its central head was living; the two flanking it were nothing but bleached bone. The creature was easily ten times their combined size, and unlike Jenkins's docile pet cat, this dog was decidedly unfriendly.

A creature straddling the line between life and undeath was exceptionally difficult to handle, especially with another terrifying entity marked as "best not to disturb" lurking in a nearby corridor. In the end, it was Leoni who loosed a viridian arrow of pure life energy from her bow, momentarily suppressing the great hound and giving them the chance to retreat into another hallway.

Of course, it was merely an interlude on their journey, and they escaped without injury.

They finally reached the corridor leading to the kitchen. Perhaps because such a powerful monster resided within, the surrounding area was strangely devoid of other dangers.

Jenkins and the elf stopped before the door. A black spiritual aura prevented Jenkins from seeing what was inside. Leoni's senses, however, were far sharper. She claimed to smell a thick, coppery stench of blood, as if the room beyond was a slaughterhouse.

"I'll go in first. If anything happens, don't worry about me. Just get out of the room immediately. Understand?"

Jenkins said to his companion, pushing the kitchen door open before she could object.

The sight that greeted them was a kitchen spattered with blood from floor to ceiling. As it was responsible for feeding an entire castle, the room was surprisingly large. White porcelain tiles covered the numerous stoves and stone cupboards. A group of pigs, dressed in white chef's uniforms, bustled about before blood-soaked counters and sinks.

The floor was slick with some unidentifiable brown substance. Rusted steam pipes snaked across the walls, leaking with a constant hiss. A pot on one stove seemed to be brewing urine using some ancient method. The combination of that, cooking fumes, and other food odors was so overpowering that Jenkins nearly choked the moment he pushed the door open.

Aside from standing upright and wearing clothes, the chefs were, in fact, pigs. The largest and most powerfully built among them even wore a nameplate identifying him as the "Head Chef."

Of course, Jenkins couldn't read the script on the nameplate. Leoni translated it for him, explaining that it was the language used by the beastmen of the material world back in her time.

"Don't fight in here. This is a kitchen."

The great, hairy boar slammed a cleaver down onto a cutting board. He shot a sideways glance at the two intruders, who had their weapons raised, and then gestured for them to follow him into the cold storage room.

Jenkins and Leoni were hardly foolish enough to walk willingly into enemy territory. The pig snorted—a sound quite natural for its species.

"Elves are always so..."

The language it spoke was archaic. Jenkins could barely make it out, and he certainly couldn't translate the rarer profanities. But from the look on Leoni's face, it was clearly a deeply insulting remark.

He raised a hand to stop Leoni, who looked ready to put an arrow through the pig, and instead addressed the beast directly.

"We're here to kill you."

"I know that," the head chef snorted. "What, did you think you were here to deliver ingredients?"

The pig chef snorted again, his small eyes narrowing as he scrutinized them.

"You can kill me, by all means. But we have to follow the rules."

It waved a trotter, and a moment later another pig chef wheeled over a metal trolley. The cart was just as rusty as everything else, its wheels crusted with old blood. On top, however, sat an array of porcelain bowls of various sizes, each filled with a fragrant meat broth that stood in stark contrast to the nauseating air of the kitchen.

"There are twenty bowls of soup here. Drink three of them, and I'll let you kill me. If you don't want to drink, then get out. Don't waste our time." Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on novel[f]ire.net

Jenkins froze, then turned to look at the elf. Leoni had specifically said that every monster she'd encountered had to be defeated in combat.

"I... I don't know what's happening... Have the rules changed?"

The elf was just as surprised, but she reached out a hand without hesitation.

"Then I'll drink first. I choose..."

Jenkins stopped her and turned back to the pig chef, who was watching them expectantly.

"This soup, what's it made from?"

"Just game we hunted nearby."

The pig chef replied nonchalantly. Seeing Jenkins still staring, it added:

"Don't worry. I guarantee it's not human, and it's not elf. Both are too acidic. Not very tasty."

Every part of that statement was true.

Jenkins blinked. As expected, he saw a black spiritual aura emanating from every bowl. He put on his monocle for a closer look and could make out malicious spirits swirling within the meat and broth, their gazes fixed upward.

the elf repeated, but Jenkins cut her off decisively.

"By the World Tree, this is truly..."

The elf could see his resolve. She wanted to stop him but dared not defy his command. A wave of gratitude she couldn't express washed over her, leaving her with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

"Don't worry. My luck's not that bad."

He said it with a forced casualness, then paused.

"Those words... Barnard said the same thing."

The exchange was identical to the one he'd had with Barnard a year ago, when he had first entered this world. The man's face flickered in his memory—his feigned composure as he stopped Jenkins, who was then just a Level 0 Enchanter, and insisted on drinking the potion first. The scene felt as vivid as if it had happened only yesterday.

"After this is all over, I need to visit Barnard's grave. It's already been a year..."

With that thought, he picked up the smallest bowl and downed the contents in a single swallow. Leoni watched as his eyes squeezed shut and his entire body began to tremble.

"What is in that soup?"

she asked anxiously, wanting to steady him but afraid of making things worse.

"Shadow beasts. Monsters from the shadow realm, reflections of the evil in the hearts of mortals."

"The material world of the 18th Epoch is just fascinating. Its reflection in the shadow world naturally gives rise to even more fascinating creatures. Shadow beasts aren't poisonous, but eating their flesh forces you to experience the emotions they embody—all the malice. The meal I've so carefully prepared for you today is called 'Jealousy'."

He gestured to the remaining bowls on the trolley.

"Since he's temporarily unable to drink any more, it's your turn. Or you can get out."

Jenkins opened his eyes, his expression unnatural, as if he couldn't quite control the muscles in his face.

"What happened to you?"

The elf immediately placed a hand on his wrist but found she couldn't sense his spirit at all. It was like touching the most ancient of trees, its essence so profound it seemed one with time itself.

"I saw... some very unpleasant things. A family in the slums. Four of them—a grandparent, two adults, a child—all struggling to get by. They were happy enough, though, because they had each other. But then their neighbors struck it rich investing in tulips and were getting ready to move out. The night before that family left, out of jealousy, the first family... It's better you don't know how it ends."

Jenkins thumped his own chest once and turned back to the head chef.

"If that's all this is, you're seriously underestimating us."

With that, under Leoni's worried gaze, he lifted another bowl and drank. This time, he would have collapsed if she hadn't been there to catch him.

"I told you, it isn't poison. This is a meal born from the reflection of the human heart. No amount of mental fortitude or spiritual strength can resist it. Because this is emotion. This is thought. This is the heart itself..."

"Enough. Stop talking."

Jenkins opened his eyes again. He was pale, but he looked surprisingly steady.

"If I drink the third bowl, you'll let us kill you. Is that the deal?"

"Yes, but do you really want to?"

the pig chef asked suspiciously.

"You've felt the effects. Are you sure you want to continue?"