Chapter 49: Master and Disciple
Tardolf seized Jeora just as the man tried to flee, grabbing him by the scruff and dragging him bodily back into the church.
It was exactly the sort of scene you always saw in horror movies.
A victim trying desperately to escape.
The monster effortlessly pulling them back.
“WHY ARE YOU RUNNING, JEORA!?”
“B-Because Master is chasing me!! And more importantly, why are you here!?”
“AM I NOT ALLOWED TO BE HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!?”
The man certainly had plenty of energy for the middle of the day.
“Now, now, Tardolf-sama. Please calm yourself.”
“Sister Marusa, why is this man here?”
“Because he has repented his actions and reflected upon his mistakes.”
“…Oh?”
Tardolf’s eyes narrowed sharply as he glared at Jeora.
The piercing stare struck him like a physical blow.
Jeora flinched violently, his shoulders trembling before he lowered his head in submission.
“If I remember correctly, it was shortly after your cooking duel, Tardolf-sama. He came to the church and confessed his sins before the Goddess.”
“…Hmph. Words are cheap. Anyone can say they’re sorry.”
“Perhaps. But he seemed so troubled, so consumed by regret, that I couldn’t help worrying about him.”
Apparently, Marusa had taken pity on Jeora.
Concerned for his well-being, she had arranged for an elderly couple she knew—owners of a small family restaurant—to give him work.
“Today, I came here to thank Sister Marusa for that…”
“Oh, there’s no need to thank me. If anything, I’d rather you make up with Tardolf-sama as soon as possible.”
“…Master.”
“What?”
“I’m truly sorry!! I was a fool!!”
Jeora immediately dropped into a perfect kneeling posture and slammed his forehead against the floor.
It was a masterpiece of a prostration.
Even in Japan, there probably weren’t many people capable of performing such a flawless dogeza.
Yet Tardolf merely shook his head.
“I HAVE NO NEED FOR EMPTY APOLOGIES!! If you truly regret what you’ve done, then prove it with your cooking!!”
“U-Understood!! Sister Marusa, may I borrow the kitchen!?”
“Of course. Feel free to use any ingredients you need.”
“Thank you very much!!”
After expressing his gratitude, Jeora hurried off toward the kitchen.
…Now I was curious.
“Eight. I find myself rather interested in seeing what sort of dish he prepares.”
“What a coincidence, Raphiel-sama. So am I.”
“Shall we take a look?”
“Definitely.”
“You two get along surprisingly well. Why don’t you just start dating already?”
Ignoring Hijiri’s teasing entirely, Raphiel and I headed for the kitchen.
Inside, Jeora was already hard at work.
As expected of Tardolf’s former top disciple.
His knife skills were swift, precise, and efficient.
Every movement carried the unmistakable confidence of a seasoned professional chef.
“Magnificent. He cuts vegetables faster than you do, Eight.”
“Come on now. Don’t compare a professional chef to an amateur who mostly cooks home meals.”
An hour passed.
Before we knew it, Jeora had completed a hearty vegetable soup packed with ingredients.
Carrying the finished bowl carefully, he returned to the church hall.
Tardolf accepted it without a word.
Silently, he stared into the steaming soup.
Vegetables floated beneath the surface of the rich broth.
Then, with deliberate slowness, he raised the bowl and took a sip.
Well then.
What would happen now?
“Jeora. After I expelled you from my school, what did you do?”
“Huh? Um… I worked at the restaurant run by that elderly couple. I helped prepare ingredients, washed dishes, and things like that…”
“Was that truly all?”
The atmosphere instantly tightened.
Faced with Tardolf’s craftsman-like intensity, everyone in the room unconsciously held their breath.
“This soup contains something you lacked before.”
Tardolf gazed quietly into the bowl.
“Warmth.”
The single word echoed through the room.
“You must have done something else. Think carefully.”
“…Ah.”
Jeora blinked.
Then realization dawned.
“Now that you mention it… I cooked staff meals for the elderly couple.”
“That’s it.”
Tardolf nodded immediately.
“I suspect they praised those meals, didn’t they?”
“Eh? Ah, yes. They did.”
“I can feel it in this dish.”
Tardolf set down the bowl.
“This soup carries a desire to hear someone say ‘That was delicious’ again.”
His voice was calm and certain.
“It’s far superior to your old cooking, which was tainted by the desire to simply ‘cook skillfully.’”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“And it appears your claim of repentance wasn’t a lie.”
The stern, difficult expression he had worn moments earlier had completely vanished.
In its place was the warm smile of a proud master.
“…If you swear never again to commit such foolishness, and if you properly apologize to Eight-sama, then I have no objection to lifting your expulsion.”
“Y-Yes!!”
Jeora’s eyes widened with joy.
“A-And, Eight-sama!!”
“Eh? Ah, yes?”
“I’m truly sorry for what happened back then!! Please forgive me!!”
He immediately turned toward me and performed another full dogeza.
Honestly, I hadn’t been that upset in the first place.
And if I rejected him now, after all this, I’d look like the one person in the room incapable of reading the mood.
So I simply nodded.
“Just make sure you never betray Tardolf’s expectations again.”
“Y-Yes, Eight-oniisan!!”
“Oniisan? H-Hey, cut that out. You’re making me embarrassed.”
At that exact moment, Hijiri—who had remained quietly observing the entire reconciliation—finally stepped forward.
“Jeora-san, would you mind if I questioned you for a moment?”
“Question me? Sure. What is it?”
“If you lie, I’ll slowly carve the flesh off your toes one piece at a time, so prepare yourself.”
“EEEEH!?”
Good grief.
What was that all of a sudden?
As everyone stared at Hijiri in shock, he calmly continued.
“We’ve confirmed that the culprit behind the attempted poisoning of His Majesty is the same person who guided assassins into the underground prison with the intention of abducting Eight-kun and murdering Mr. Tardolf.”
His smile never wavered.
“According to my investigation, there are two primary suspects.”
Then he pointed directly at Jeora.
“One of them is you.”
“W-What!? I would never try to kill Master!”
“Relax.”
Hijiri waved dismissively.
“There wasn’t a single lie in anything you said just now. Contrary to appearances, I’m rather sensitive to deception. I can tell.”
His usually narrowed eyes opened slightly.
The faint glimpse of those eyes was somehow more frightening than any glare.
“You spent years as Tardolf’s disciple. So why did you suddenly commit an act that directly opposed your master’s wishes?”
“T-That…”
Jeora’s voice faltered.
“I can’t say.”
“Were you manipulated by your junior disciple, Alsia-san?”
“!?”
Jeora froze.
The look on his face said everything.
No confession was necessary.
His reaction alone was practically proof.
“…Indeed, Alsia may appear carefree and absent-minded,” Tardolf muttered. “But she’s always possessed ambition greater than anyone else’s. I could believe she devised a scheme to have Jeora expelled from my school.”
His expression darkened.
“However, poisoning the Emperor’s meal is another matter entirely—”
“I understand wanting to trust your disciple as her teacher.”
Hijiri’s voice was merciless.
“But among everyone involved in this incident, she’s the one who benefits the most.”
And then—
CRASH!
A sharp sound, like shattering glass, rang throughout the church.
Everyone froze.
Raphiel immediately looked toward the sky.
“The barrier surrounding the church has been destroyed. Marusa, evacuate the children into the church immediately. An enemy capable of breaking Mikaela’s barrier is approaching.”
“Y-Yes!”
“…No.”
Raphiel’s expression hardened.
“It seems we’re already too late. Their execution is frighteningly efficient.”
“Eh?”
At that moment—
The church doors exploded inward.
The heavy entrance was kicked open with tremendous force.
A group of figures clad in jet-black robes poured into the church one after another.
The same black robes worn by the two men who had attacked us in the underground prison.
“Well then~”
A cheerful voice echoed through the stunned silence.
“If you value the children’s lives, everyone stay nice and quiet, okay~?”
“Alsia… you…”
“Hello there, Master. And I’ve been wanting to see you too, Jeora-niisama.”
Among the robed intruders stood one familiar face.
Alsia.
The disciple we had seen working in the royal castle’s kitchen.
Cradled in one arm was Mea.
A knife gleamed coldly against the girl’s throat.
Just as Hijiri had suspected—
Alsia was looking very, very suspiciously dark.