Ch.206Side Story: Cooking? – 3

What is this?

That was my first thought as I ate a carrot that tasted like spaghetti. It clearly had the texture, smell, shape, and crunch of a raw carrot, yet it tasted exactly like spaghetti.

Unable to comprehend what was happening, I took another bite. Crunch—the sound of the carrot breaking between my teeth filled my mouth, while the distinctive flavor of tomato sauce and pasta noodles spread across my palate.

I hadn’t been mistaken. I was completely dumbfounded by whatever was happening. Was a spaghetti-flavored carrot even possible as a dish? Could this even be called cooking in the first place?

I didn’t want to believe it, but with such clear evidence right before my eyes, I couldn’t deny it either. Christine beamed with pride, unfazed by my speechless reaction.

“How is it, my god? Does it please your palate?”

“Christine, this is…”

My words caught in my throat, overwhelmed by cognitive dissonance.

My mouth was clearly crunching on a carrot, my nose was definitely smelling a carrot, yet my tongue and throat were tasting spaghetti.

Charlotte and Olivia, who had been fighting and mockingly asking what kind of cooking this was supposed to be, noticed my unusual reaction and seemed to realize that Christine had actually created something worthy of being called cooking.

The smiles vanished from both their faces. As for Serena, she had been expressionless from the start, so I couldn’t tell what she was feeling.

As I stood there, dumbfounded, holding what appeared to be a carrot-shaped spaghetti—or rather, a spaghetti-flavored carrot—Christine approached me.

“Does my cooking not please you?”

“No, that’s not it…”

The cognitive dissonance was severe, but what I tasted was undeniably the authentic flavor of classic spaghetti. If someone asked me what spaghetti was, I could point to this and it would be accurate—except for its carrot appearance.

“If my god desires a different dish, I shall change it for you.”

“Huh?”

Christine gently took the carrot from my hand, clasped it between her palms, and held it before her chest as if in prayer. Then, closing her eyes, she began to recite what sounded like an actual prayer.

A white flame of divine power ignited between her hands and around the half-eaten carrot. The divine energy engulfed the entire carrot before quickly subsiding.

Christine presented me with the carrot, now restored to its original form with no trace of my bite marks.

“It is done, my god. Please, taste this humble dish with your tongue once more.”

Still bewildered, I accepted it. She must have done the same thing in the kitchen earlier. Whether this could be called cooking was beside the point.

A miracle.

The proof of faith that twists the laws of the world and turns the impossible into possible—something other priests might use once in a lifetime of devout service, if they’re lucky.

Christine was using the concept of miracles—something ordinary priests would consider a lifelong aspiration—to make a carrot taste like spaghetti for the sake of cooking.

Given that she could even channel a celestial deity directly into her body without any repercussions, using miracles like water was probably nothing to her, but still… what was this?

If other priests knew about this, they’d probably faint from shock.

I accepted the carrot Christine offered me. Though it looked like a carrot, its taste and nutrients had been completely transformed into something else. I couldn’t even imagine what flavor it might be this time.

“Please try it.”

At Christine’s urging, I took a bite. Crunch—the sound of the carrot breaking filled my mouth again. My tongue registered the taste of the broken carrot pieces.

This time, it was a different flavor.

“…Pancake?”

“Yes, my god. That is correct.”

First a spaghetti-flavored carrot, and now a pancake-flavored one.

“Well… how should I put it, this is fascinating.”

The pancake flavor was also quite authentic, but the sheer strangeness of it all was more striking.

In truth, acts like severing causality, creating worlds, and channeling deities should be far more impressive than making a carrot taste like other foods.

Perhaps I’d grown too accustomed to watching them fight on such grand scales. By now, I felt I could brush off almost any conflict between the four of them.

“This isn’t an ordinary carrot, is it?”

Olivia approached subtly. She was right. If this had been just a regular raw carrot, I might have laughed it off, saying she couldn’t really cook. At least, I would have.

But my obvious surprise after taking a bite naturally piqued her curiosity. I offered her the carrot in my hand.

“Want to try it?”

“I won’t refuse!”

Her cute little mouth opened shyly, revealing her bright red tongue and pulsating throat.

I thought she would take it and eat it herself, but she seemed to want me to feed her. Just as I was about to place the carrot in her mouth, Christine suddenly snatched it from my hand.

“Gack?!”

And then she shoved the carrot straight into Olivia’s mouth. Olivia’s eyes widened as she choked out a strangled sound.

“Keh! Cough, cough! Hey, are you crazy?”

Olivia spat out the carrot that had been thrust deep into her throat and glared at Christine. Christine glared back with equally cold eyes.

“This dish was made for my god, and only my god should eat it. How dare you, some random woman who appeared out of nowhere, try to eat the offering I prepared with devotion for my god.”

“Abel offered it to me! If you had just kept your mouth shut, wouldn’t you have kept at least half of it? Hmm?”

“I threw it at you like alms to a beggar to shut that filthy mouth of yours. Do you truly not understand that my god was showing mercy to a heretic like you?”

This time, the fight was between Christine and Olivia.

Charlotte, seemingly having forgotten that she had just been fighting with Olivia moments ago, was looking at the two with a contemptuous expression. Serena remained as impassive as ever.

I suddenly felt a sharp headache coming on. One dish, one fight. Serena was next, and I had an ominous feeling that she wouldn’t just let things slide either.

“Serena.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“It’s your turn next, right? Leave those two be and go to the kitchen to get started.”

“As you command.”

Serena rose and disappeared into the kitchen. After confirming that her flowing golden hair had completely vanished, I intervened between Christine and Olivia, who seemed ready to escalate beyond words.

Meanwhile, Charlotte appeared poised to start walking a fine line again, so I quickly preempted her by covering her mouth.

“Charlotte, just stay quiet and don’t say anything.”

“Am I not being quiet as you just asked? I haven’t said anything yet.”

“But you were about to, weren’t you?”

Charlotte flashed a grin. I knew it.

“You noticed? I’m overjoyed that you pay such close attention to me. I’m moved by your concern. I shall gladly follow your words.”

“…”

It was fortunate that Olivia and Christine had stopped fighting not long ago. If those two had been sitting normally, they would certainly have started another argument.

After that, things were relatively peaceful. Charlotte kept smiling at me whenever our eyes met, while Christine and Olivia behaved themselves, each clinging to one of my arms.

Serena reappeared after quite some time had passed. While Christine’s miracle with the raw carrot had been shocking, Serena was actually one of those who could cook.

Just with an extremely limited repertoire.

In her hands was a steaming pot. She seemed unbothered by the heat, holding the bubbling bottom with her bare hands.

Well, for someone who regularly splits mountains, overturns tectonic plates, and drops suns during fights, a heated pot would hardly be considered hot. These girls could probably walk into a blast furnace naked and emerge unscathed.

“It is complete, my lord.”

Serena set the pot before me. Inside, neatly cut, rectangular pieces of soup were bubbling and boiling. At least the smell was definitely passing.

Meat soup. One of the few dishes Serena knew how to make. It was the most straightforward option, and it was hard to mess up. Just simmer it properly and it’s done.

“…?”

As I took the spoon Serena offered, I looked back into the pot, wondering if I was seeing things. I thought I had just seen some utterly incompatible words strung together.

“…”

I hadn’t been mistaken.

“Neatly cut, rectangular pieces of soup” were indeed in the pot.