The suspicion that the Sunlight Scripture had been brainwashed hung heavy in the air. To uncover the truth, Yuji Kawasaki set out to create a dish capable of breaking such mental shackles. If the Slane Theocracy was manipulating its own soldiers, they were beyond corrupt; if not, then these men had committed their atrocities of their own free will.
If they truly enjoyed the slaughter, Yuji wondered, what then? Does killing them solve anything? Momonga had already stated he would kill them without hesitation, even in his human form. The Overlord's mindset remained, even behind a mask of flesh.
"I suppose I'm an outlier too," Yuji muttered with a wry smile. "If I start viewing humans as mere resources like the NPCs do, I've already lost the battle."
Yuji focused on the task at hand. He had spent hours simmering chicken bones with green onions, ginger, and bay leaves to create a rich, clear stock. While he could have used bouillon cubes, the depth of flavor from a natural stock was incomparable. He carefully strained the liquid through a fine cloth into a clean pot.
I should have Picky and the others practice this, he thought. Keeping a stock like this on hand is essential.
According to Clementine, the "taste of home" in the Slane Theocracy was a rustic soup made with leafy greens, root carrots, and salt-cured pork. It sounded remarkably like a Pot-au-feu.
"The seasoning is the tricky part," Yuji noted. He planned to have Clementine taste-test it before the final serving to ensure it hit the right nostalgic notes. He roughly chopped cabbage, carrots, and onions, tossing them into the strained broth.
"I'll steam the potatoes separately," he decided. "Boiling them directly ruins the clarity of the soup."
He added turnips, broccoli, and celery for aroma, followed by large chunks of salted dried meat. In the Theocracy, they used dried meat rather than smoked bacon or sausage—perhaps due to a lack of smoking technology or simply for efficiency.
Once the vegetables were tender and the potatoes were added, Yuji took a small sip. "A bit thin," he murmured. The flavor relied entirely on the salt from the meat. In rural villages, expensive spices like black pepper were unheard of.
"Hey, Kawasaki! I'm here!"
Clementine entered the kitchen, still dressed in her yellow gown. She had complained about being a "dress-up doll" for the maids, but the look suited her surprisingly well. She took a sip of the broth.
"It's amazing! But... the stuff back home is definitely more watery and bland."
"I can't go any lower than this," Yuji said firmly. "A chef has standards."
"It'll be fine," she laughed. "If they're hungry enough, anything tastes like a miracle."
***
Yuji stirred the pot and began the incantation. Light, both white and black, swirled into the broth before vanishing completely.
"Is that the 'Trial Cooking'?" Clementine asked, peering into the pot.
"Yeah. It clears all mental status ailments and resets karma values to their original state. Then, it judges them."
It was the ultimate recovery skill, but it carried a terrifying risk. If the eater was judged "Evil" by the dish, the flavor would turn to ash, and they would be crushed by the weight of their own sins—a mental death. If judged "Good," they would receive a massive blessing and full restoration.
"Don't even think about tasting it," Yuji warned as Clementine reached out. "If you have a guilty conscience, it'll break your mind. This is an experiment."
"Is death the only way out for people like Nigun?" she asked quietly.
"Death is the easy way out," Yuji replied, looking her in the eye. "If you've committed crimes, you live to atone for them. That's my rule. And that goes for you too. You're my attendant now; I'm not letting you die on a whim."
Clementine smiled, a genuine expression that actually reached her eyes. "I guess meeting you was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me."
***
In the log house on the Sixth Floor, Nigun Grid Luin and his men sat in a state of terror. They had been captured, tortured by demons, and then suddenly bathed, dressed, and led to this wooden cabin. To them, this felt like the preparation for a "final meal" before execution.
The door creaked open. An orange, round creature in a chef's coat entered, followed by the man they knew as Ainz Ooal Gown and... Clementine.
"Nigun, right? I wanted to see what kind of guy you were," Yuji said casually.
Nigun glared at Clementine, his eyes filled with accusation. "You... you joined these monsters?"
"It's not what you think," she replied. "Just eat the soup, Nigun."
Shadow Demons served the bowls. The aroma hit Nigun like a physical blow. It was the smell of the Theocracy's countryside. It was the smell of his mother's kitchen.
His body moved against his will, a command from the demons forcing him to pick up the spoon. The first sip was a revelation. It was the soup of his homeland, but perfected. The warmth seeped into his chilled bones, and the flavors of the vegetables—cut roughly, just like a farmhouse meal—triggered a flood of memories.
Suddenly, Nigun's head felt as if it were splitting open.
"They are heteromorphs! They are the enemy of humanity!" a cold, distant voice echoed in his mind.
But beneath that layer of hatred, another memory surfaced. A memory of his younger self standing in a cathedral, arguing that the God Surshana was himself a heteromorph and that humanity should seek cooperation, not slaughter.
"I wanted to change the country," the younger Nigun whispered in his mind.
The pain intensified as the "Trial Cooking" fought the brainwashing. Images of a woman in a white cheongsam flashed before his eyes—a song, a spell, and then the red fog of mindless hatred.
"NO! NO, STOP IT!" Nigun screamed, clutching his head. "Why?! Why did I kill them?! They weren't the enemy!"
The tears began to flow, unchecked. He looked at his hands, seeing them stained with the blood of the demi-humans he had once vowed to protect. Out of the fifteen men, three others were also screaming, their minds finally clear of the Theocracy's influence. The rest had collapsed, their minds broken by the judgment of their own atrocities.
***
"It seems you've returned to us," Ainz said, stepping forward.
Nigun looked up, his face a mask of grief. "Kill me... Please, just kill me for what I've done."
Ainz reached for his mask and pulled it away, revealing his human face. The Sunlight Scripture members gasped, their eyes widening in shock.
"S-Surshana...?" Nigun stammered, falling to his knees. The face of the man before them was identical to the depictions of their God of Death.
"I am not Surshana," Ainz said, his voice resonant. "But I am of his kin. Your sins are great, Nigun, but death is not atonement. You will live. You will serve me, and in doing so, you will tear down the lies of the country that turned you into a monster."
Nigun didn't hesitate. "I am yours... My life, my soul... anything to stop the madness of the Theocracy."
***
As the meeting concluded, Ainz and Yuji walked through the corridors of Nazarick. Demiurge stood by, still feeling the sting of his earlier failure to find Yuji.
"Demiurge," Yuji said, stopping in front of the demon. "You've had a long day. You're working on the plan to hit the Black Scripture, right?"
"I am, Master Kawasaki. I shall not fail again."
Yuji pressed a small, paper-wrapped bundle into Demiurge's hand. "It's an onigiri—a rice ball. Don't overwork yourself. That's an order."
Demiurge stared at the warm bundle, the simple kindness of the gesture catching him off guard. "I... I shall produce results that exceed your expectations."
Once they were alone in Ainz's room, Yuji turned to his friend. "So, about the general maids... I can't cook for everyone individually. I'm thinking of a massive Curry Party."
"Curry!" Ainz's human eyes sparkled. "Blue Planet used to say it was the ultimate luxury of the old world."
"I'll prepare every topping imaginable," Yuji laughed. "Tonkatsu, fried shrimp, hamburger steaks... we'll turn the cafeteria into a legend."
"And Kawasaki..." Ainz hesitated. "About Albedo. I... I might have tweaked her settings at the last second before the game ended."
"Oh? What did you do, you old skeleton?"
"I made her 'In love with Momonga'..."
Yuji burst out laughing. "You idiot! No wonder she looks at you like a predator! Don't worry, man. You've got a bride for life. I'll make sure the wedding cake is the best thing you've ever tasted."
"Stop! It's terrifying! She has the eyes of a beast!"
The laughter of the two friends echoed through the halls of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, a rare sound of humanity in a world of monsters.
Next — Menu 11: Let's Make Curry! (The Spice Quest) — by Momonga
***
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