...
...
After a while, Lumina stood by the campfire, her gaze shifting between the "grilled fish" in Herta's hand and Herta's earnest expression, which seemed to say, I'm really trying here. Lumina fell into silence.
The other three, sensing the tension between Lumina and Herta, wisely refrained from interrupting.
Lumina and Herta locked eyes, their gazes unwavering, as the campfire flickered beside them, time ticking by.
Finally, unable to withstand Lumina's unwavering stare any longer, Herta broke the silence: "If you have a problem, just spit it out. Why are you staring at me like that?"
"I know I'm good-looking, but you can't just stare at me without saying a word, can you?"
"If you really want to stare, just ask nicely. I might even let you have your fill."
Herta's voice carried clearly to Lumina's ears.
Lumina didn't respond immediately. Instead, she glanced at the grilled fish again. After a moment's contemplation, she met Herta's gaze directly and asked earnestly, "Herta, how on earth did you manage to grill a fish like this?"
Herta's culinary skills were extraordinary—truly, exceptionally skilled.
This much had been evident from the T H E H E R T A'S M A G I C K I T C H E N show Lumina had once watched.
Back then, Lumina only had a vague idea of just how powerful Herta's culinary skills were.
But now, Lumina understood completely.
Herta's culinary skills had reached a level so extraordinary that if the Cosmos had an Aeon of Culinary Arts, she would have instantly ascended to godhood upon witnessing them...
To roast a fish like this, Lumina honestly admitted, she desperately wanted to observe the entire process from beginning to end.
How exactly did she manage to roast it like this?
The roasted fish was crispy on the outside, still sizzling audibly.
At first glance, the description might make it sound decent.
But in reality, the crispiness was a blackened, charred crispiness... and the sizzling sound was the continuous crackling of flames erupting from within the "roasted fish," as if a single bite would trigger an immediate explosion.
So, how on earth was this thing roasted?
Lumina was genuinely baffled.
Initially, Lumina hadn't let Herta roast the fish, assuming she would simply turn it into charcoal.
But later, seeing Herta's lonely, isolated demeanor—as if excluded by the small group—Lumina relented and gave her a fish to roast. After all, how could Sister Lumina bear to watch her little Herta Sister sink into such a dejected and heartbroken state?
Regardless of how Herta's fish turned out, I'd grill a few for her later anyway.
But who could have imagined...?
She actually used the fish and the campfire to create a bomb!
How on earth did she manage that?
Lumina stared at Herta with undisguised curiosity, her face alight with questions. She wanted to extract the answer from Herta's lips.
"Hmph, wanna learn? Call me Big Sister Herta, and I might just teach you."
Feeling Lumina's unabashed gaze and seeing her features laid bare before her, Herta's cheeks flushed slightly. She huffed softly, signaling Lumina to address her properly before turning her gaze to the "grilled fish" she was cooking, avoiding further direct eye contact.
"Never mind, then," Lumina replied, completely missing the faint flush creeping up Herta's ear tips beneath her hair.
Hearing Herta's condition, Lumina abandoned her pursuit of the answer.
Though she was intensely curious, the prospect of becoming "Herta's little sister" was simply too unappealing to pursue.
So what if she can make bombs with her bare hands? It's just a minor trick, nothing worth getting worked up about.
If Lumina wanted to create something by rubbing her hands together, she could do it.
But she couldn't replicate Herta's method of crafting something from just a single fish and a campfire.
"Whatever," Herta said, not even glancing at Lumina. As her mood gradually calmed, her gaze fell upon the pitch-black "grilled fish" in her hand, which crackled and hissed with fiery sparks.
Catching the acrid smell of burning, Herta hesitated briefly before parting her delicate, cherry-like lips. She leaned in, wanting to taste her own creation.
Originally, Herta had intended to offer the first bite to Lumina.
But judging by Lumina's earlier expression, she likely wouldn't have accepted it even if Herta had offered.
So, Herta abandoned the idea.
Little did Herta know that if she had actually voiced her intention, Lumina might not have refused.
After all, who could refuse a grilled fish personally prepared by a beautiful girl like Herta, no matter how terrible it tasted?
As if you could poison an Emanator of Abundance! Lumina thought. If you could actually poison me, I'd quit the Emanator circle on the spot.
Of course, even if it wasn't poisonous, Lumina would definitely fake being "poisoned" if Herta actually tried to feed her.
Herta understood this perfectly well. She had some self-awareness about the quality of her own cooking, after all.
Still, she couldn't resist testing her luck. What if her fish only looked bad but actually contained hidden depths?
So, Herta had to take a bite. No matter what, she needed to test the waters!
"You'll eat anything," Lumina said. But before Herta could take a bite, Lumina snatched the so-called "grilled fish"—more of a charred mess—from her mouth. With a flick of her wrist, Lumina tossed it aside, shooting Herta a look of utter exasperation.
Even though Herta was the one eating, how could Lumina bear to watch a beautiful girl put such a blackened thing in her mouth?
"Wait a bit. I'll roast you one," Lumina said. She casually grabbed a fish from the basket and held it over the campfire.
While Lumina's cooking skills weren't exactly stellar, grilling fish was something she could manage effortlessly. At least she wouldn't burn it to a blackened crisp like Herta had.
After a moment, Lumina gazed at the fish she had grilled and nodded in satisfaction.
It hadn't quite reached that golden-crisp perfection, but at least it looked presentable.
Though it did lose quite a bit of skin...
But no big deal.
"Here, Herta, have some."
Though Lumina longed to taste her prize immediately, she noticed Herta's unwavering gaze throughout the entire process. Remembering her earlier promise, Lumina offered the grilled fish to her.
"..."
Herta accepted the fish, glanced at it briefly, and took a small bite.
"How is it?" Lumina asked eagerly, her eyes fixed on Herta, silently awaiting her verdict.
"Hmm... just average."
Herta chewed the fish slowly, delivering her verdict: just average.
To be honest, it tasted rather unpleasant.
Serving such a thing on her table would be an insult to Herta's discerning eye.
But...
It was also strangely delicious.
Unpleasant, yet strangely delicious.
Could it be because Lumina made it herself? Herta mused inwardly.