Alchemist Karen No Longer Compromises, Chapter 332

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Chapter Three Hundred and Thirty-Two: All Prepared

“This is about the only place I made corrections.”

Karen handed the notebook back to Harald when he came to the kitchen. It was the notebook she had borrowed from Harald. Inside were notes Harald had taken on everything Karen had explained.

Harald received it with a reverent gesture and bowed apologetically.

“I’m sorry. Were there errors?”

“About rain. Saying rain is the goddess’s blessing isn’t exactly wrong, but…”

Karen said as much, though she had made corrections in the notebook all the same.

“Basically, I’d like you to teach the children scientific knowledge rather than concepts. Water on the ground evaporates and becomes water vapor, rises high into the sky, cools, and the tiny droplets that collect and float in the air become clouds—and when the droplets inside those clouds grow large and heavy enough to fall, that’s rain. Please teach them that.”

“Understood, Lady Karen.”

Karen was currently working with Harald on creating textbooks for the children.

Her regular work consisted of making potions and conducting research. On top of that, there were the children to think about. She had been able to leave their day-to-day care in Harald and Lily’s hands, so Karen’s direct responsibility was roughly limited to creating teaching materials for them—but that alone turned out to be a fairly time-consuming undertaking.

In order for the children to truly understand the knowledge Karen had to offer, she had to write out everything she knew. That was more than she could manage on her own. So she had Harald—who possessed an exceptionally rare memory—write out her explanations, which she then reviewed and corrected.

Harald transcribed her words with an accuracy that surprised even Karen. That said, there were places where her explanations had become muddled from over-simplification, and occasionally Harald’s own knowledge had crept in.

“Lady Karen, is water vapor the smallest form of water you mentioned before?”

“Oh—did I say that? The smallest state of water is actually much smaller than water vapor. I’m sorry, I may have said something incorrect.”

Seeing Karen put her head in her hands, Harald hurriedly spoke up:

“No—I only assumed as much myself. Please don’t trouble yourself over it.”

“Ah, you assumed? That’s a relief.”

Karen let out a breath and wrote "H₂O" in the corner of the notebook. The chemical formula for water. Surprisingly, she still remembered it. Even so, she had forgotten most other chemical formulas. To begin with, Karen’s knowledge only extended to about the middle and high school level.

“This might be too advanced for the children yet, so I’ll just explain it to you for now—water in its smallest form is structured with one substance bonded to two identical separate substances.”

“So that smallest state is what water truly is at its core, and if you separate that one substance from the two others, it is no longer water?”

“As expected of you, Harald. You catch on quickly.”

If how rain forms was elementary school knowledge, then the chemical formula for water was middle school level. About right for Harald.

“I would appreciate it if Ms. Lily could also assist in teaching the children, and so I was wondering if you might be able to write out what you just explained in a way she could easily understand? Though you praised me, I can’t honestly say I’ve fully grasped it myself yet.”

“Is that so? Well, if you say so, I’ll add some illustrations too.”

She drew pictures of updrafts, cold air, warm air, mountains, and clouds. Things often became surprisingly easy to understand when accompanied by diagrams.

“I’m sorry to trouble you when you’re so busy developing potions for Mister Thor and his party.”

“I was actually just looking for a change of pace, so don’t worry about it.”

Karen said it half sincerely, half with a wry smile, and laughed.

Karen owned an alchemy workshop in the royal capital, but there was no alchemy workshop at the earl’s residence in Ehlertt territory. So the Ehlertt household had cleared out one of the kitchens and lent it to her as a temporary workshop.

That alone was more than enough to be grateful for, but it was still less efficient than a proper alchemy workshop. She had brought most of what she needed from the capital, but the space itself simply wasn’t suited to alchemy.

Even using her orichalcum alchemical cauldron and World Tree ladle, she could feel a faint seepage of magical power from the cauldron when she made potions. Faint as it was, she also sensed an increased magical resistance arising from working in an unsuitable environment.

The alchemy workshop in the capital that Helfried and Alise had given her had been a building optimized, in its very structure, for alchemists. It had truly been more than Karen—an E-rank alchemist at the time—had deserved.

But now, she wanted that kind of environment as a matter of course. If she were only selling products through her workshop in the royal capital, a slight drop in quality would simply mean charging a lower price. But Karen wanted to prepare the finest possible potions for Thor and his party.

“I may have no choice but to go back to the capital workshop…”

Karen murmured to herself, and at that moment, there was a knock at the door.

“May I come in?”

“Julius? Please do.”

When Karen let him in, Julius entered the kitchen with a modest smile.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your work, Karen. Could I borrow you for a little while?”

She sometimes prioritized her work over even Julius, and he knew it well. At his considerate request, Karen stood up from her chair with a smile.

“Of course! …Did something happen?”

Julius quickly shook his head before Karen could start to worry.

“Nothing is wrong, so please don’t be concerned. There’s actually something I’d like you to come and see.”

“Something you’d like me to see?”

Julius said it as though it were nothing remarkable. Karen tilted her head and began putting away her alchemy tools.

“It won’t take long—just come along without thinking too much of it.”

“Okaaay.”

At the light tone of it, Karen thought perhaps there was an unusually shaped cloud in the sky, and nodded without a second thought before walking out of the kitchen alongside Julius.

“As an engagement gift, I built an alchemy workshop for you, Karen…”

Julius said it with a shy smile, and behind him stood an impossibly grand building.

“Isn’t that as big as the annex!?”

“I kept wanting to add more features so you’d have everything you needed, and it ended up like this.”

Karen had known that something was being built behind the west wing of the manor. But there had been so many ongoing works—seasonal changes to the garden, replacement of the gazebo, and the like—that she hadn’t paid it any particular attention. She had never imagined it could possibly be an alchemy workshop built just for her.

“I got carried away with the details, and the work took longer than expected. I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you sooner.”

Julius looked down at Karen, who had followed along in perfect innocence and was now standing there dumbstruck, and his smile deepened.

“Thank you for agreeing to be engaged to me, Karen.”

Karen, still unable to find words, looked up at Julius, then at the building, then back up at Julius.

“Do you think we could take the whole building with us to the Himmel territory?!”

Julius burst out laughing at her words.

“Ahaha! That would be rather difficult, I’m afraid.”

Karen threw her arms around him as he laughed.

“Thank you… Julius.”

Julius understood her work, supported it, and backed her up more than she could have asked for.

“I’ll support what you want to do too, Julius. I’ll be there for you.”

“What I want is to be with you, Karen.”

Julius stopped laughing and held her back, gently but with real strength. When Karen looked up at him from within those warm arms, he was looking down at her with an expression so earnest it was almost frightening.

Karen swallowed the words that had been on the tip of her tongue, that’s not quite what I meant. But that was exactly what mattered. At least, it was for Julius.

“Then I’ll work hard so we can stay together.”

She stopped hugging him with childlike innocence and instead embraced him as though she could shield him from any danger.

At that, the arms holding her seemed to tighten.

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The Forsaken Saintess and her Foodie Roadtrip in Another World (Light Novel), Volume 7 Prologue

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Volume 7 is out! Just a reminder that I post partial translations on Patreon, and as soon as the entire chapter is translated, I post it on the website.

Volume Seven, Prologue

‘There’s a festival in the elven village, so come home for a visit.’

Looking back, that letter from Mr. Xenon’s mom was what started this whole trip. When Mr. Xenon got the letter, he put up a huge fuss about it—"The food back home is terrible, there’s no way I’m going back!"—but somehow we talked him into it, and here we are… at the elven village.

And now that we’ve actually come to the village, we’ve been baptized by uniquely elven cuisine, gotten caught up in a disaster way bigger than any festival, and generally had all sorts of experiences you don’t get every day!

I mean, come on. Who would’ve guessed that the World Tree’s guardian bird would get drunk on offered sake and lose the precious orb it needs to control its own magical power? Because the guardian bird couldn’t control its mana anymore, the overflowing power turned into monsters called Cotton Birds—like little snow bugs—that piled up all over the elven village, and then a monster called a Dinaronewt that swallowed the orb started evolving like some kind of dragon. It was a whole ordeal…!

But then again, that’s also how I got close with the Azure Droplets. So it’s not all bad… I guess?

“Rolf’s cooked meat is delicious, but Ms. Rin’s cooked meat is delicious too.”

The gentle voice pulls my wandering thoughts back to reality. The speaker is the handsome blond-haired, blue-eyed elf sitting across from me… Mr. Arthur, the leader of the Azure Droplets.

He’s a sunny, top-tier archer type… but watching him grin from ear to ear while stuffing his face with Rolf’s otherworldly-spiced grilled meat and my "braised pork", I can’t help but think, isn’t this guy cut from the same cloth as Mr. Xenon? Are elves just secretly big eaters? Or is it just these two?

“Both dishes bring out the meat’s flavor to the fullest! At this point, I just can’t help drinking more and more!”

“Both super delicious. Could eat forever.”

“Come on, there’s no way you can eat meat forever…”

Sitting beside Mr. Arthur, who is happily stuffing himself with meat, is Ms. Sasa, the priest-warrior who looks like a little girl, raising a giant mug in one hand and a piece of grilled meat in the other. Next to her, the gorgeous black-haired mage Ms. Ginsei is plowing through grilled meat with gusto, while the one watching the scene with an exasperated expression and making comments is Mr. Rolf the grappler. With an elf leader accompanied by a dwarf and a wolf beastman, it’s a party composition that perfectly suits the multi-racial nation of Riessfeld. Well, not that the Gourmands—led by a dragul, with a spider-person, two humans, and a winged lynx—are really in a position to comment on that.

Incidentally, Mr. Rolf also handles the cooking for the Azure Droplets, so the two of us hit it off immediately as fellow food lovers. We decided to bring dishes we each made from the dropped Dinaronewt meat and have a joint celebration together—that’s how today’s gathering comes about.

“Hey, Arthur. Quit hogging all the grilled meat. Leave some for the rest of us, would you?”

“You’re one to talk, Ville—aren’t you going through that braised meat awfully fast? It’s disappeared in no time, hasn’t it?”

Mr. Ville, brow furrowed, keeps piling braised pork onto his plate as he grumbles, and Mr. Arthur just grins back at him while stuffing grilled meat into a pocket bread. Since the Azure Droplets formed around the same time as Mr. Ville’s party, there’s clearly some kind of camaraderie between them—their banter’s lively enough.

…Though whether you can really call this exchange over food "lively" is a bit of a mystery.

“Ahhh… Even so, this really feels peaceful, doesn’t it!?”

I tear my eyes away from the two leaders sparking over meat and take in the villagers enjoying the festival with bright smiles. Seeing this sight makes all the effort worth it!

Feeling that happiness down to my bones, I’m fully savoring this joint celebration between our two teams, enjoying every bit of it… or at least, I’m supposed to be.

“What a deplorable sight… Those pointy-eared creatures and animals act as though the world belongs to them!”

“Right? The stench of beasts is going to get all over my robe!”

“Both of you! There’s no need to say such things so loudly. We came here today partly so Lady Himari could get some fresh air—can’t we talk about something more pleasant? Hm?”

A voice shatters that pleasant atmosphere, striking straight into my eardrums. There’s no way I could forget it. It’s the voices of the very people whose actions dragged me into this world! No way… seriously? In the middle of this happy, fun celebration, of all things, I run into the group behind the saint summoning!?

The moment I realize it, cold sweat pours from every inch of my body. It feels as though someone has dumped a bucket of icy water over me.

Fear over what happens if they spot me and fury that they’ve shown their faces right in front of me—all sorts of feelings tangle together in my chest, sending shivers down my spine. If it weren’t for the side effect of Survival—mental control—I don’t know what would’ve happened. Honestly, I might’ve ended up shouting something without thinking it through, that’s how cornered I felt. Ahh… I’ll say it again and again, thank goodness for Survival!

“Ugh, shut up already…! If it bothers you that much, you could have simply stayed behind! To begin with, only Sage and I were supposed to come—you two are the ones who barged in, remember!?”

What breaks through my frozen thoughts is a girl’s voice, remarkably feisty. The only women here are whoever’s out in the plaza, the members of the Gourmands and Azure Droplets… or the saint girl, who’s hanging her head at the back of their group.

Curiosity over whose voice that is battles with the fear of being found out… but this time, the need to know what’s going on wins. Just a quick glance won’t give me away, right? Telling myself that, I lift my head just a little and look over at the saint’s entourage.

“I told you over and over—if you wanted to come, behave yourselves, don’t cause trouble for people, and don’t make me feel awful! And you break that the second we arrive, you hopeless morons!”

“Wha—! I came along because I was worried about you going with just one attendant, and this is the thanks I get!?”

“I never asked you to! And besides, that’s called emotional manipulation, you know!?”

A slender, black-haired girl with her shoulders squared in fury has her fist clenched, looking ready to swing at any second, at a blond boy rattling off spiteful remarks. Even from just a glance, I can tell she’s furious enough to kill with a look alone.

Whoa… whoa whoa whoa! Go, saint girl! I’d figured she’d been completely won over by their side by now… but maybe she’s actually got a pretty solid head on her shoulders?

Faced with her blazing anger, the blond prince can barely get a word in edgewise and looks utterly flustered, which gives me a small rush of satisfaction. The boy mage doesn’t seem to know how to react either—he keeps glancing back and forth between the saint and the prince while clutching his staff.

The red-haired knight in light armor manages to wedge himself between the prince and the saint in an attempt to calm her down, but he doesn’t seem capable of stopping her completely.

I worry the commotion might draw attention with how harshly she’s laying into him, but the people nearby, riding high on festival spirit, seem to just chalk it up to "some kind of spat among friends." It probably helps that we’re at the edge of the plaza, where it’s less crowded. I even catch a laid-back comment: “Humans really come in all kinds." Hm… As expected of a long-lived race. They look at things differently. That said, Mr. Xenon, who is still considered young among elves, openly shows his disgust, and Mr. Arthur appears deep in thought as well.

“Enough! I’ve told you countless times that I have no sympathy for those failed imitations of humans! If you’re truly a Saint, then learn your place and accept that already!”

“That makes no sense! Isn’t loving all living things equally exactly what being a ‘saint’ means!? Keep up this harassment garbage, and I’ll beat you black and blue and then kick you where it hurts most!”

Shaking off the knight trying to restrain her, the saint girl plants herself directly in front of the raging, shouting blond prince. Then she thrusts her hand into empty space… and the next moment she’s holding a folded bundle of cardboard that looks completely handmade.

Wait, isn’t that… one of those big slap fans they use in comedy routines!?

Here I’d been assuming she was some kind of protected, sheltered character, but she is going toe-to-toe with the nasty prince head-on! And also, where did that paper fan even come from, saint girl!?

“Grrr…! There’s no point in talking to you any further!”

“Hah!? There you go again, running off the second things get inconvenient for you…”

Perhaps the saint girl’s perfectly reasonable argument irritates him even further. The rotten prince stomps his feet in frustration and calls over the young mage. Seriously? He can’t win the argument, so he’s running away? How pathetic! He still looks underage at a glance, but he’s supposed to be a prince, isn’t he? Is that childish level of maturity really acceptable?

“Physais, we’re leaving! The Saint with the swollen head can just cool off here for a while!”

“Geez. You always make me do everything… I’ll leave the guard behind, so Lady Saint can stay here and cool off, okay?”

Ignoring my increasingly complicated feelings, the nasty prince vanishes along with the boy mage. The boy mage seems to be able to use teleportation magic—maybe that’s what he used? Well, if they were able to force-teleport me all the way from their home base to Riessfeld, moving himself around is probably a given. Ugh, so infuriating!

“…Hmph! Pathetic man! As if I need your permission—I’ll have fun here regardless!”

Meanwhile, snorting and flipping her long black hair back, the saint girl plants her feet firmly on the ground. Beside her, the red-haired knight fusses, "Are you all right? Weren’t you scared? I’m glad nothing happened even though you defied His Highness…!"—hovering around her like a big dog worried about a listless owner.

The knight tried to stop the prince, weak as the effort was, and he clearly cares about the saint girl’s well-being. Maybe I can file him under "decent" too.

“Let’s go, Sage! I want to drink that juice over there!”

“Ah, please wait, Lady Himari! I’m the one holding the wallet, please don’t go on ahead!”

Watching the saint tuck her paper fan away into who-knows-where again and walk off cheerfully with the knight, the people around us, who’d been stirred up by the one-sided argument, seem to sense things have settled down. The bright, lively festival atmosphere quickly returns.

I feel the breath I’d unconsciously been holding come easier now.

“Hey… are you alright, Rin?”

“Thank you, I’m okay, really… somehow, watching that girl just blew all my tension away.”

“You alright, Rin? Should we try some breathing exercises? In, in, out?”

‘Did something happen? Want to pet my back?’

“Thanks, Ms. Aria. But I don’t think that’s quite what I need right now… thanks to you too, Miso.”

Mr. Ville, judging the moment right now that they’re gone, calls out to me with concern. Ms. Aria, looking a bit flustered herself, gently rubs my back. Gomamiso, who’d been sitting this whole time quietly, hops onto my lap and rubs its head against my chest, purring.

When I look up, both my own party and everyone from the Azure Droplets are watching me with worried expressions… It’s incredibly reassuring, honestly.

But, how do I put it… I’m genuinely terrified at first, yet after watching that saint girl go off like that, I somehow start calming down. Could this be the saint’s “purification” power at work…!?

Come to think of it, that thing where the saint pulled the paper fan in and out of empty space… could that be some kind of item box or inventory skill? Maybe her main skill is something holy-type like "purification" or "blessing," and the sub-skill she got from the Otherworlder effect is "inventory"? I’m kind of jealous!

“I see… If those people are who I think they are, then the rumors we heard before weren’t off the mark.”

“Eh… you know about that group, Mr. Arth—”

Mr. Arthur, grilled meat sandwich in one hand, mutters this quietly while still watching the saint with his eyes.

Oh! Since the Azure Droplets take on missions abroad too, maybe all kinds of rumors reach their ears! Thinking that, I lean forward and ask before I can stop myself…

“Ah… Al’s busy chewing right now, so I’ll answer for him. Honestly, I wouldn’t say we ‘know’ them. We just happen to overhear a few rumors.”

“Right, right! During one of our expeditions, a party visiting from a neighboring country told us there were ‘some nobles running around causing a ton of trouble’!”

Unfortunately, I ask right after Mr. Arthur takes an enormous bite out of his sandwich. Ugh… I feel bad about that. Mr. Rolf and Ms. Sasa take turns explaining in his place while he chews away diligently, but the content of what they say is shocking enough to blow away any awkwardness over the bad timing!

Wait, they’re pulling the same nonsense abroad as well!? Surely their government is being buried under formal complaints by now!

Until just now, I’d been thinking about how to chase them off or shoo them away, but maybe I don’t need to do anything at all. They might get dragged back home on their own… or receive an urgent order to return immediately.

“I… seeee…”

“…It sounds like there’s a story behind this, but… maybe it’s better if we don’t ask for details?”

“Yes… For now, I’d really appreciate it if you could just leave it be.”

Mr. Arthur, having swallowed the mouthful of meat sandwich he was eating, speaks up to me as I nod along in understanding… but I’m still not ready to explain my circumstances. Sorry, but I think I’ll keep this top secret a little while longer.

Still, if word of their existence has even reached adventurers from a neighboring country, just how much chaos has the saint’s group been causing? Though from what Mr. Arthur, Mr. Rolf, and Ms. Sasa say, it doesn’t sound like they know the saint’s face, so it’s probably not like wanted posters are circulating or anything.

More importantly, how much does the saint’s group even remember about me? I got declared "useless!" and tossed aside right after the summoning, so they probably barely got a look at my face? It’d be dangerous if they checked my status, but there’s a good chance a passing glance alone won’t give me away.

According to Mr. Tori, "You don’t ask someone to reveal their status unless you trust them, and it’s considered proper manners not to." But knowing that awful prince… he seems exactly the type to say something like "What’s wrong with examining some lowly creature beneath humans!?" and do it without a second thought.

How much they remember about me is probably going to determine what I do from here on out…

“Wow… that braised pork smells amazing! Looks so gooood!”

“Ehyaaaa!?”

‘Nyaaaa!’

My body jerks up with a startled shriek, and the jolt sends Gomamiso, who’d been asleep, bolting up with a yelp of its own. When I hesitantly turn toward the voice… there stands the saint girl, her long black hair swaying, eyes practically sparkling.

Of all things, direct contact from the saint herself!? Speak of the devil, I guess!

“Eh, Ah… Thank… You… Very Much…”

“Ah! Sorry for popping up out of nowhere! It just smelled so nostalgic, I couldn’t help it!”

“N-No… It-It Is Fine!”

The saint girl keeps talking to me without showing any sign of finding my awkward, broken speech suspicious. Judging by her reaction, she doesn’t realize I’m the other person summoned alongside her. Hm… It’s a relief that my identity isn’t exposed, but at the same time it’s disappointing that we can’t bond over shared isekai experiences. It’s a complicated feeling. After all, unlike that prince, the saint seems like a genuinely nice girl, so I start hoping we might become friends. Honestly, I’m way too easy.

Anyway, this is the first time I’ve gotten a good long look at the saint’s face, and yup—she’s definitely got that "saint" look going on. Sleek, glossy black hair and poreless, porcelain-smooth skin. Her features are cute, sure, but there’s also this glow to her, like light seeping out from somewhere deep inside. And more than anything, the fact that she can approach a total stranger without a hint of hesitation, drawn purely by a smell… she’s got some great social skills, right?

Also, even while talking to me, her eyes stay glued to the braised Dinaronewt the entire time. She’s around high school age, probably still at that stage where you’re hungry again no matter how much you eat. No doubt about it—the braised meat smell really did lure her in.

“Um… Want Some Braised Pork? It Is Good!”

“…Eh!?”

The moment I think that, I can’t just sit there, and before I know it, I’m offering her some braised pork. Instantly, the saint’s face lights up… yup, she’s probably homesick in the food department too, I realize, somehow just sensing it.

But that expression, so genuinely happy and relaxed, crumples into an awkward, apologetic droop the very next moment.

“Eh, ah, um, that’s not… I really didn’t come over here meaning to ask for that… um, it really did just smell nostalgic, I wasn’t even thinking about it…”

“Naaah! There Is Plenty! Do Not Worry! Holding Back When You Want To Eat Is Bad!”

Her heart, apparently having lost the battle against the temptation of braised pork, finally seems to regain some sense of reason. Flustered, the saint girl tries to hurry away from the table. But her eyes stay locked, sparkling, on the braised pork the entire time…

Feeling nostalgic at the distinctly Japanese gesture of frantically waving both hands side to side, I quickly catch one of them and encourage her to sit down. I mean, sure, it would be easy to let the saint leave now, but we’ve already made contact, haven’t we? In that case, maybe it’s worth seeing just how far this interaction can go.

The Illustration’s description: The saint startled Rin and Gomamiso.

Plus, the fact that she stood her ground and argued straight back at the blond prince, instead of just going along with his discriminatory remarks, really scores major points with me. It’d be so much easier to smooth things over and avoid causing waves, so having the backbone to actually push back and resist like that is impressive.

To begin with, the saint’s still at an age where she’d probably still be under her parents’ protection back home, so not being able to eat what she wants to eat just seems kind of sad. No matter how delicious the food in this world is, of course, you’re going to miss the tastes you grew up with, right? Well, I have no way of knowing what kind of life she’s been living since being transported here, so I don’t actually know what she’s been eating.

Like I was thinking earlier, I’m pretty sure the saint’s skills are the holy-type ones—purification, blessing, that sort of thing—plus something item-storage related, like an item box or inventory. My guess is she probably doesn’t have any food-related skills.

And even if she did happen to be someone who could cook, getting hold of rice, miso, or soy sauce in this world can’t be easy… So it wouldn’t be surprising at all if the smell of braised pork gave her a little pang of homesickness.

…As I mull all this over, I start thinking, leaving a hungry fellow countrywoman sitting there like this just doesn’t feel right, you know? Since we’re at it, I want to fill her belly up properly!

“Food Tastes Better When Everyone Eats Together!”

“Eh, um… but…”

“It Is Fine! No Worries!”

Seeing me continue my bizarre broken speech, Mr. Ville and the others seem to pick up on what I’m trying to do. Without making a fuss, they shuffle their seats around so I can sit after giving the seat of honor to the saint girl. Meanwhile, Mr. Arthur and his group are playing it off with a look that says, "Oh, she’s always like this, don’t mind her!”

Pushed along by me, the saint sits down in the seat of honor too, flustered but going along with it… Good! Everything’s proceeding exactly as I planned!

…Actually, during this whole back-and-forth, I glance over half-expecting the knight to come rushing in to stop things, but… he actually looks a little relieved watching me interact with the saint. Given they just had that huge public blowup a moment ago, he probably feels reassured seeing us "locals"—or so they think we are—getting along with the saint without any friction.

Hmm. This whole situation does leave a bit of a guilty taste in my mouth, like I’m deceiving them somehow. But then again, the elves around us all have that "well, humans really do come in all types" look on their faces! So probably nobody’s too bothered by it, yup!

“Heeere! Eat A Lot!”

“Wah, wah, this much!? Big sis, you’re seriously a god! An angel! Thank you so much!”

“What’s this? You that hungry, missy? Then here, try the grilled meat too!”

The more braised pork and steamed buns I pile up in front of the seated saint, the brighter her eyes shine. This is clearly the moment her reason loses to her appetite.

Watching the saint stare at the food, Mr. Rolf must not be able to hold back either—he starts competing with me, piling pocket bread and grilled meat onto a plate.

Well, that’s just how it goes. The person in charge of cooking is the kind of creature who feels genuine joy watching someone eat what they made, so it can’t be helped! If anything, I’m actively eager to feed her more!

And on top of that, the saint has never tasted our cooking before. She’s a first-time customer, so to speak. The opinion of a first-time customer is exactly the kind of thing a cook desperately wants to hear! In other words, Mr. Rolf and I are currently food monsters driven by an irresistible urge to feed her!

The saint’s eyes go sparkling back and forth between us—grinning ear to ear as we lay out dish after dish—and the ever-growing mountain of food in front of her. And finally, she must not be able to hold back any longer. She claps her hands together in front of her chest with a loud smack and breaks into the biggest smile I’ve seen from her all day.

“Thank you so much, Itadakimasu!”

Ooh! "A saint who properly says ‘itadakimasu’ is truly admirable!"—while I’m busy being impressed by that, her hand’s already reaching for the braised pork sandwich. It gives me a strange mix of pride and embarrassment that she picked that one first. It’s the dish she’d been reacting to earlier, after all!

Well, technically it’s braised Dinaronewt instead of braised pork… but braised pork is braised pork. I’ll let that slide.

My eyes catch on the saint’s hand as she grips the braised pork sandwich. It’s a soft, pretty hand, well cared for down to the fingertips. Her hair has a healthy shine too, and she doesn’t appear worn down or burdened by any obvious physical or emotional scars.

Hmm, hmm… Judging by this, her relationship with the rest of the group probably isn’t great, but it doesn’t look like she’s being "mistreated" either. I’m relieved that the saint, happily digging into her braised pork sandwich right in front of me, doesn’t seem to be getting bullied by that lot, yup.

“Wow! What is this? It’s so ridiculously good! Grandma’s braised pork was delicious too, but this is amazing!”

“Hooray! Glad You Like It!”

“The skin’s so much fluffier than my bed! I wanna get squished between layers of it sooo badly♡! And the meat is all melty and juicy too—this stuff is basically juice♡♡!”

Swallowing what’s in her mouth, the saint lets out little squeals of delight.

Oh dear? Her table manners are neat, she eats politely, and she’s clearly enjoying every bite—as the cook, there’s really no higher honor than that… but the saint’s got a pretty intense food-review commentary style, huh?

The bit about sleeping on the skin, I actually think about the same thing while I’m cooking it, so that one I get… but calling braised pork a "juice" is a genuinely novel take. Like calling curry a beverage or something? If you make it looser, more like a loose rillette, then sure, maybe you could call it "nectar-style"… maybe… but no, I really think calling it a juice is a stretch, saint girl!

…Still, I’m genuinely glad she’s enjoying it so much!

“This steak sandwich is amazing too! It’s more authentic-tasting than the kebab Mom and I used to buy on the street! Hey, Sage, you should eat some too!”

To the saint, the grilled meat apparently reads as "steak." And so the knight’s actual name is Sage, huh. In my head, "Sage" usually conjures up someone with knowledge-type skills or a support role, so it doesn’t quite click with what’s clearly a front-line knight type… but well, this knight seems like a sincere, earnest kid. “Sage the Honest Knight,” I guess.

“N-No, I really shouldn’t…”

“It’s SO good, come on, eat with me!”

Having already polished off the kebab-style sandwich stuffed with grilled otherworld meat in pocket bread, the saint’s now pushing both the braised pork sandwich and the kebab sandwich on Sage. He’s desperately trying to decline, but judging by how hard she’s pushing, I give it a minute before he caves.

And besides, with a brand new eater on the scene, there’s no way we cooking folk could just sit back and stay quiet, right?

“Absolutely! Don’t hold back, dig in!”

“Right, Right! Eat, Eat!”

“Ugh! Ah, um… well, just one piece then…”

“Oh, Sage, always so bashful. Here!”

His mistake is yielding, even for a moment, to a pair of feedback-addicted cooks determined not to let new prey escape. We immediately seize the opportunity, sit Sage beside the saint girl, and pile mountains of food in front of him. Welcome to the table where you can’t leave until you’ve eaten and given your opinion!

Sage keeps glancing around anxiously even after sitting down, so the saint thrusts the kebab sandwich right at him. He hesitates for a second… but eventually caves to her momentum, taking the offered sandwich with a bashful sort of reverence. Then, seeming to steel himself, he takes a bite.

“Ah… It’s good.”

“See!?”

The comment slips out of Sage’s mouth without meaning to. Spoken in his regular tone, no formal speech at all, it’s clearly his genuine, unfiltered reaction. Hearing it, the saint puffs up her chest with a triumphant, ear-to-ear smile, like she’s just proven her point.

Yup, when you eat something delicious, the smile just comes naturally! Watching the saint’s smile makes me happy too!

“This is genuinely irresistible! One bite and the savory richness of the meat and spices hits you right away, but the crisp vegetables keep it refreshing, so you just keep going for one more bite, and then another. Honestly, I’d love to see this served regularly at the castle dining hall!”

“Right?! It’s dangerously addictive! I know it’s a lot of calories, but… I just can’t stop eating it!”

Eyes shining, Sage polishes off the kebab sandwich in no time flat. Judging by that, he must really like it. Being a knight, he’s probably plenty active on a daily basis, so a kebab sandwich packed with carbs and protein, with that punch of salt and fat, must taste incredible to him.

And apparently deciding one kebab sandwich isn’t nearly enough to fill Sage’s stomach, the saint, beaming with the biggest, most satisfied smile, now brings the braised pork sandwich up to Sage’s mouth.

“Here, Sage! This one next! This one’s really, really good too!”

“Eh? Ah, no, Lady Himari… I’ve already had…”

“Come on, come on! Here, say ahh!”

“…!”

Sage’s face goes bright red as the saint offers up the braised pork sandwich to his mouth with her own hand. …Ah, yes. This is definitely one of those “aaah” situations. Before Sage can say anything, the saint pushes the sandwich even closer to his mouth. Actually, wait, is she doing this completely unconsciously? Isn’t this a little too oblivious-protagonist of her?

Then again… this world’s originally based on an otome game, so this level of physical closeness might just be par for the course. And honestly, watching young people’s romance blossom is sweet and exciting even from the sidelines. Personally, I think Sage should just surrender and let the saint girl win this one.

“A-Ahh…”

Right in front of me, doing my best not to let the grin show on my face, Sage resigns himself and bites into the offered braised pork sandwich. Yes! The "ahh" scene is established!

Watching this sweet slice of young romance unfold, I take a bite of my own braised pork sandwich too.

…Yup! Even after eating it so many times, it’s still delicious, if I do say so myself! The fluffy bread soaked through with the braising liquid and meat juices… this really is paradise!

Munching on my sandwich, I glance over and see both the saint and Sage are clearly enjoying their food.

Yup. Good food always tastes even better when shared with others!

“Thanks, big sis!”

“You Are Welcome. You Are Young, So Eat Plenty!”

Munching away on her various sandwiches, the saint thanks me, and beside her, Sage—more reserved but clearly enjoying his grilled meat sandwich—gives a small, slightly bashful laugh. Oh, there it is. I see. This stern-looking knight is actually pretty cute when he smiles, huh?

Ahh… this really feels like youth! Being young is nice. Watching them with a warm, heartwarming feeling, I see the saint and Sage keep polishing off dish after dish.

“Whew, I’m full! Gochisousamadeshita!”

With a bright, radiant smile, the saint claps her hands together in front of her chest. Oh! The nostalgic Japanese-style gesture!

In this world, there seem to be prayers before meals, but a prayer of thanks after eating doesn’t seem to be common. The Gourmands members, who know I say "itadakimasu" and "gochisousama" before and after meals, are looking at the saint with a knowing expression. Even so, none of them try to ask questions, which is impressive in its own way…

Having no idea whatsoever what we’re all thinking, the saint’s face, contentedly smiling until now, suddenly clouds over.

“—Ah, um… Wh-What do I do? You gave me so much food, and I don’t have anything to give back in return!”

“I-Indeed! It’s only a small token, but please accept our modest thanks—”

“You Do Not Need That! We Are Just Happy You Ate So Much!”

“That’s right! Just seeing that delicious, happy smile of yours while eating what we cooked was more than enough for us!”

The saint flusters about in a panic, while Sage tries to pull something that looks like money out of a pouch on his belt. Rolf and I hurriedly stop both of them.

Getting to have someone eat what we cooked and hear their genuine, fresh reactions was already more than enough—there’s no way we’re accepting anything more as payment!

Our feelings must have gotten through, because after a moment of troubled thought, the saint finally seems to accept it.

“Thank you both so much, big sis and big bro! Thanks to this delicious food, I feel super energized now!”

“I Am Glad To Hear That!”

She shakes my hand enthusiastically first… then goes on to give Rolf an equally vigorous handshake. Is it just my imagination, or is there literally a glow of gratitude radiating off the saint’s beaming face?

“Thank you both so, so much! I’ll never forget how kind you were to me! Let’s go, Sage!”

“We are deeply grateful for your kindness! I swear, someday, we will repay this debt!”

Bowing to us over and over, the saint dashes off into the crowd with the knight beside her. Amid the noise, I catch a fragment of "Once we get back, I’m giving those two a piece of my mind!"… Hmm… judging by that, the saint really does seem like quite a "good kid"—or rather, someone capable of respecting cultural differences.

Plus, her affection levels with the capture targets other than the sensible Sage seem pretty low—maybe all that effort grinding through events one by one is paying off?

“She was kind of like a whirlwind, wasn’t she?”

“Eh, ah… Y-Yes…”

“It seems like there’s quite a story behind all this… but when you’re ready to talk about it, let us know, okay?”

What pulls me out of my thoughts is Mr. Arthur’s voice, carrying a hint of something meaningful. When I glance over, sure enough, the gorgeous elf is wearing the most knowing smile you ever did see… Ahh, that loaded expression!

…That said, it seems Mr. Arthur has no intention of digging any deeper. Along with that suggestive remark, he throws me a wink with enough force that it practically comes with its own sound effect.

“Well then… there’s still plenty of food left, and the celebration is only getting started, isn’t it, Rin?”

“Even you, Mr. Ville…”

“That’s right, Rin! Whoever has the most fun wins!”

It’s always my companions’ hands that warm my trembling, anxious back. Sandwiched securely between Mr. Ville and Ms. Aria, an unfounded sense of relief fills me, like everything’s going to be fine somehow.

“Come on! Another toast!”

“Eh, ah… ch-cheers?”

Following their lead, I clink glasses with everyone and mediate the battle over the remaining food… With echoes of the saint’s whirlwind visit still lingering here and there, the celebration wraps itself in thick, buzzing warmth, and the excitement climbs even higher.

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Alchemist Karen No Longer Compromises, Chapter 331

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Chapter Three Hundred and Thirty-One: Two Supervisors

“I sincerely apologize, Lady Karen. My shortcomings as an educator caused you discomfort. I will ensure that the children’s education is even more thorough so that nothing like this happens again, and please rest assured that there is not a single other child harboring complaints.”

Karen sipped the chamomile tea Harald had poured for her in the parlor and tilted her head at him as he bowed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, sincerely—”

“I’m not questioning the sincerity of your apology. I mean—Are you sure Lena is the only child who’s unhappy about being brought here?”

“I beg your pardon? Yes, that is correct.”

“And there aren’t any who simply keep their complaints to themselves?”

“Of course not. They could have no reason to be dissatisfied. I should add, to be clear, that I arrive at this conclusion not because of any strong faith I hold in you, Lady Karen, but because any objective view of the situation would reach the same conclusion.”

“Faith…”

Karen’s expression grew somewhat complicated. Harald continued without missing a beat:

“Anyone can see that the treatment they receive here is extraordinary. It is even better than what I received when I first arrived. The children without magical power who have made it here are so afraid of being expelled that they are extremely careful not to do anything that might displease you, Lady Karen.”

The faces of the children surrounding Lena had been hard, sharp, filled with anger—too severe for children simply scolding a smaller child. The atmosphere had been strange. Michael aside, that is.

“—And it seems that fear eventually turned into strong hostility toward Lena.”

If Karen lost her enthusiasm for this endeavor, they would be left destitute in an instant. That was why they could not forgive Lena—young as she was—for reviling Karen.

The children had no way of knowing that Karen not only did not care about such insults at all, but was actually astonished that no one besides Lena was dissatisfied with their circumstances.

“Lena is from the Bell Viscounty, if I recall correctly?”

“As expected of you, Lady Karen, to remember even the origins of insignificant children. Yes, she is from the Bell Viscounty, and Michael happened to know her.”

“Was she forcibly separated from her family?”

When it came to the orphanage children from the Ehlertt capital, Karen had prioritized their own wishes. That had been possible because the director, August, was a decent man.

For the children from other territories whom Karen had gathered through negotiations with nobles, not a single one of their wishes would have been honored. It was precisely because they were in such circumstances that Karen had moved to take them in.

And among them, Karen had suspected from Lena’s behavior that there might even have been parents who had been ordered by their lord to abandon their magicless child.

“No, that was not the case.”

Harald dismissed Karen’s guess.

“Lena is apparently the child of a servant family in the household of Viscount Bell. It seems she was cherished at birth and for some time after her lack of magical power was confirmed. However, when another child was born and found to have magical power—and with the upheaval surrounding Horst—her parents gradually began to resent her. Or so Michael told me.”

“Did you know about this as well, Ottilie?”

Karen turned to Ottilie, who stood behind the sofa.

Ottilie shook her head.

“No… I was outside the manor almost constantly, so I am not well acquainted with the servants’ children. Michael was rarely permitted to leave the manor, so he spent a great deal of time indoors and was familiar with what went on inside.”

“…I see.”

Karen nodded solemnly as the weight of the story settled over her.

Michael himself treated commoner children without distinction and never made them feel his status—though a less flattering description would be that he seemed like a comedian desperately trying to make people laugh every second of every day. Children not yet accustomed to his station occasionally fell into silent battles with themselves over whether they were allowed to laugh. Mark, meanwhile, had already grown accustomed to it and often scolded Michael.

Seeing how cheerful Michael was, Karen assumed that even though he had not been allowed outside, he probably had not suffered as much as one might think, and she regained her composure.

“In other words, Lena herself should be aware that she was abandoned.”

Harald said it gravely.

“She can’t accept it.”

Karen sighed with pity. Harald nodded.

“That appears to be the case. She understood the situation and vented her resentment on you, Lady Karen.”

Harald showed no sign of sympathy as a dark, sharp-edged smile appeared on his face.

“Why not send her back to her parents, just as she wishes? After all, she had the nerve to call the very person who offered her protection and mercy, Lady Karen, a kidnapper. She has no right to complain.”

These were the words of someone who empathized with the children more than anyone. Surely this was the collective feeling shared by most of the children.

Unlike the children, however, Harald was Karen’s disciple. He had probably already guessed how Karen felt.

“You already know what I’m going to say to that suggestion without my having to tell you, don’t you, Harald?”

At Karen’s words, Harald fell into a sullen silence—and of course, he had long since realized that Karen had no intention of abandoning Lena. He was visibly displeased. Karen reached out toward his head, and Harald gave a sharp intake of breath and stepped back.

“I—I nearly got treated like a child…!”

The way he offered opinions that didn’t align with Karen’s and pouted to show his displeasure—his manner was far more familiar now than it had once been, to a degree that seemed to exceed the bounds of a master-and-disciple relationship. Karen said nothing about it and lowered her hand with a smile, her target having escaped.

“Managing the children’s emotional wellbeing isn’t suited to you, Harald, so I’ll leave that to Lily. Education and work, please continue to manage those as before. Work together with Lily to look after the children.”

“…Understood. I doubt our views will align, but Ms. Lily is your benefactor, Lady Karen. In that case, I shall endure any amount of unreasonableness.”

“Well, if you really can’t come to an agreement, just come and talk to me.”

Karen spoke lightly to Harald, who was bracing himself with the air of someone facing execution, then glanced toward the back of the annex, where the children were. This was supposed to be working hours for children. But Lena had refused to work and shut herself in her room. Lily had gone to check on her.

“I thought there would be more resistance than this…”

“If you have not been troubled overmuch, surely that is a good thing, is it not?”

Harald looked puzzled at the shadow in Karen’s expression. Karen gave a wry smile at a reason he most certainly would never have guessed.

“There should have been more children like Lena. That would be the normal thing. Because if children with magical power were treated this way, there would be far more who acted like Lena. The fact that they don’t is what’s sad to me.”

Harald was still blinking in bewilderment even after Karen’s explanation. His expression made it plain that the meaning hadn’t quite sunk in. Perhaps it was because he was one of those without magical power himself—or perhaps precisely because of that—that he couldn’t quite follow.

“…Things that make you sad, Lady Karen, should not come to pass.”

After a long silence, Harald said it quietly.

“I will work together with Lily toward the realization of your ideals.”

Karen nodded, took another sip of chamomile tea, and held her appraisal mirror to the cup. Even after being sipped, the tea’s quality had not deteriorated much, and its fever-reducing effect was still present.

“If you’ve become capable of brewing chamomile tea this good, Harald, then I can entrust the education and work related to alchemy to you completely.”

“…I am deeply honored by your words, Lady Karen.”

With that, Harald lowered his glistening eyes and gave a beautiful bow.

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