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The hornless Wolgarms did not walk toward the village.
They were dragged forward by the will of others.
Not physically, although some of them might have deserved it. They advanced inside Roswaal's ring of mana, their bodies lowered, ears pressed against their skulls, and eyes darting in every direction. They did not growl. They did not attack. They did not attempt to flee. That was the worst part. A free Wolgarm would have been a clear threat: fangs, curse, hunger, forest, death. These creatures, however, were something more uncomfortable. They were still Mabeasts, they still possessed claws, and they still smelled of blood, mud, and curses, but something was missing from them. The broken horns left their snouts mutilated, and that absence seemed to have emptied away part of their animal pride.
Link walked close to them, still carrying Rem in his arms.
Not because he could not let her walk, but because Rem had attempted to stand twice, and both times her legs had explained with brutal honesty that heroism was not a muscular function currently available to her. On the third attempt, Link had looked at her in silence. She had averted her gaze. He lifted her again without asking permission. Rem did not protest anymore, although her pride remained seated beside her with a deeply wounded expression.
Subaru walked behind them, leaning on Ram more than either of them would ever admit before a royal court. Every few steps, he looked toward the hornless Mabeasts. Then toward Link. Then toward the covered corpse of the Boss Wolgarm, which was being transported by two village men under Roswaal's direct instructions and with an absurd quantity of cloths, ropes, and expressions saying, "This is going to haunt my dreams." Subaru opened his mouth several times. He closed it just as many. In the end, he lost.
—I need to say it —he murmured.
Ram did not turn her head.
—No.
—You don't even know what I'm going to say.
—Ram knows from the mental odor of stupidity.
—That doesn't exist.
—Barusu insists on proving otherwise.
Subaru pointed with his bandaged hand toward the covered corpse.
—We're taking a Boss Wolgarm back to make soup!
—It is not "we." It is the gardener.
—That doesn't make it better!
Link heard him from the front.
—Technically, I'm also making jerky.
Subaru stopped walking.
Ram had to pull him forward to make him continue.
—Don't try to fix it by adding a menu!
From Link's arms, Rem spoke in a quiet and tired voice.
—Subaru should conserve his strength.
—Rem, please tell me you also find it concerning that our friend is turning trauma into broth.
Rem took a second to respond.
—Rem finds many things about Link concerning.
—Thank you.
—But if Mabeast meat helps Link recover, Rem will not object.
Subaru looked toward the sky.
—Sanity has abandoned me. Sanity went into the forest and died alongside the other Wolgarms.
Roswaal, walking ahead with an offensively calm demeanor for someone who had just incinerated threats from a distance, released a soft laugh.
—Adaptability is a virtue, Subaru-kun.
—Not when it includes demonic soup.
—Gastronomy has always been born from courageous people.
—That does not apply to giant cursed dogs!
Link lowered his gaze slightly toward Rem.
—You do not have to try it.
—Rem will not.
—Very direct.
—Rem is tired.
—Fair enough.
The village was drawing closer. The villagers' faces, visible along the edges of the paths, shifted between gratitude, horror, and profound confusion when they realized the survivors were not only returning alive, but were also bringing a small group of subdued Mabeasts with them. Most of the villagers retreated at the sight of them. From the window of one house, a child poked his head out curiously until an adult hand dragged him back inside. The hornless Wolgarms lowered themselves even further as they passed near the people. Not out of respect, but because of the pressure Link and Roswaal imposed upon them. Even so, the villagers' fear was justified. Fear was healthy.
Roswaal stopped the group before they fully entered the center of the village.
—We will take them no farther.
Link stopped as well.
Rem barely raised her head.
—Roswaal-sama.
—The village has already suffered enough without turning its square into an exhibition of domesticated Mabeasts. We will leave these creatures in the outer clearing until suitable transportation or confinement can be prepared.
—That sounds reasonable —Subaru said—. Which makes me uncomfortable because it came from you.
Roswaal smiled.
—Reason can arrive from unexpected sources.
Ram sighed.
—Perhaps Barusu could try it someday.
—My emotional recovery just moved three steps backward.
Link carefully lowered Rem onto a blanket spread out by a villager who could not decide whether to approach or flee. She sat rigidly, attempting to preserve a dignity that exhaustion was stealing from her around the edges. Ram went to her as soon as Subaru could support himself alone. The sisters looked at each other. There was no dramatic embrace. There were no grand words. Only a long gaze, far too heavy for a place filled with people. Link looked away. He did not know what existed between them. It was not his place to bite into that silence.
Instead, he walked toward the hornless Wolgarms.
Subaru immediately straightened.
—What are you doing?
—Demonstrating something before everyone decides to burn them out of fear.
—Fear has arguments.
—Yes. That is why I will demonstrate it away from the people.
Roswaal did not stop him. In Subaru's opinion, that was a bad sign. Beatrice would have said that whenever Roswaal did not prevent an idea, it was probably because he wanted to see how much of it caught fire. But Beatrice was still inside the village, finishing her examination of the children, and Subaru did not have enough air to retrieve her and bring her back as a moral fire extinguisher.
Link stood before the Wolgarms.
There were seven.
Not the fifteen he had subdued during the hunt. Some had died in the battle. Others had been finished off by Roswaal when he could not determine in time whether they remained under control or still represented a threat. Seven had survived with their horns broken and their obedience twisted toward Link. They were of different sizes, all injured to varying degrees. One could barely place weight on one leg. Another bore bite marks across its neck. The largest one, the beast Link had ridden down from the cliff, still breathed heavily, its snout mutilated and its head lowered.
Link stood motionless before them.
He did not deploy his kagunes at first.
He did not need to.
—Down.
The word was simple.
The Wolgarms did not move simultaneously. Two lowered themselves immediately. One hesitated. Another turned its head toward the forest, as though some old part of its pack still called to it. Link raised his hand. He did not threaten them. He merely pointed toward the ground.
—Down.
All seven lowered their bodies.
Subaru blinked.
From beside Rem, Ram slightly opened her eye.
Roswaal smiled with greater interest.
The nearest villagers murmured among themselves.
Link walked around the creatures. The Wolgarms kept their heads low. One growled when Link passed near its injured leg. Link stopped. The animal tensed, expecting pain or punishment. Instead, Link crouched in front of it.
—Stay still.
The Mabeast trembled.
Link raised his hand and moved it toward the mutilated snout. Subaru instinctively took half a step forward.
—Link, don't be an idiot.
—I'm working.
—That's what every idiot says before losing fingers!
Link did not look at him.
His fingers touched the Wolgarm's forehead.
The creature did not bite.
Link closed his eyes.
The mana did not emerge like a spell. There was no circle, chant, or fire. It was more like opening a valve inside his body. His horns, still partially visible because of the morning's tension, drew mana from the environment. His kagunes, although concealed, responded beneath his skin like sleeping roots. Link allowed a small current to descend through his arm and enter the Mabeast through the broken place where its horn had been torn away.
The Wolgarm released a low sound.
Not a growl.
Not pain.
Something resembling relief.
Its trembling leg pressed more firmly against the ground. Its breathing became less irregular. It did not heal instantly. It did not transform into a good dog. But some of its animal tension faded, as though the hunger for mana that left it hollow had received enough of a drop to keep it from going mad.
Subaru remained silent.
That was truly historic.
Link removed his hand.
—They cannot absorb it on their own.
Roswaal tilted his head.
—Not without their horns, apparently.
—But they can receive it.
—A useful distinction.
—A dangerous one as well.
—Every interesting use tends to be.
Link moved to the next one.
One by one, he touched the Wolgarms upon their broken snouts or foreheads, giving them small quantities of mana. Not too much. He quickly felt the difference: if he gave too much, the creatures became restless; if he gave too little, they continued trembling. There was a middle point, a portion, like feeding embers without allowing the fire to grow beyond the hearth. Luci floated near his shoulder, watching with attentive light. At times, the small sphere glowed when the flow stabilized, as though celebrating that Link had performed something magical without exploding.
Subaru could not resist.
—This is officially the strangest thing I've seen all week.
Ram looked at him.
—Barusu watched the gardener shout "Explosion" and fly through the air.
—I said "all week" with deliberately broad intentions.
—You also watched him ride a Wolgarm.
—My brain is attempting to protect itself by deleting files.
From the blanket, Rem watched in silence.
Link finished with the large Wolgarm. That one took longer. It possessed deep wounds, and its entire body vibrated with a tension that was more than pain. When Link touched it, he felt stronger resistance, as though part of the creature still hated obeying him. He could not blame it. He would also have hated someone who broke an essential part of him and then decided to use him. Link gave it mana slowly. The Wolgarm breathed, released a low growl, then rested its head against the ground.
—Up —Link said.
All seven raised their heads.
—Stay.
None moved.
—Left.
Three hesitated.
Link pointed.
—Left.
All seven moved clumsily toward the edge of the clearing.
—Stop.
They stopped.
Subaru ran a hand across his face.
—I cannot believe this works.
—It works —Ram said—. That does not make it any less absurd.
Roswaal softly clapped once.
—Very instructive.
Link turned toward him.
—They are not pets.
—I should hope not.
—They are not free either.
—That is obvious.
—If they remain, they need food, control, and isolation. No villagers near them. No children. No parading them around like trophies.
Roswaal smiled.
—The tamer imposing conditions.
Link held his gaze.
—The one responsible for them.
Roswaal's smile became slightly thinner.
—Acceptable. I will prepare a temporary enclosure on the outer grounds of the mansion. Until we determine whether they are useful or too dangerous, they will remain under supervision. And under your responsibility.
—Good.
—If one of them kills or injures someone...
—I will kill it myself.
Rem lowered her gaze.
Link noticed, but he did not correct the statement. It was an ugly truth. Ugly truths did not cease to exist merely because someone he loved was tired of seeing blood.
Subaru carefully walked over to him.
—Brother, I'm going to ask you something, and I need you not to answer with something disturbing.
—I promise to try.
—Are you all right with this?
Link looked toward the Wolgarms.
All seven were crouched, obedient, fed by his mana and confined inside a logic that did not seem natural. They were useful. They were dangerous. They were proof that the world had violent rules that could be bent in one's own favor if someone was willing to dirty their hands.
—No —Link said.
Subaru looked at him.
—But I'm going to do it anyway.
—That was a disturbing answer.
—I promised to try, not succeed.
Subaru released a weak laugh.
—Fair.
The return to the mansion began once Beatrice confirmed that the children were stable.
She reached the village entrance with her book held against her chest, wearing the expression of someone who had saved lives and was still irritated that she had been forced to move. She looked first at Subaru, then Link, then the hornless Wolgarms surrounded by Roswaal's mana.
—Betty does not want to know, in fact.
Subaru raised one hand.
—Wise decision.
Beatrice looked at Link with technical contempt.
—You smell of misused magic, Mabeast flesh, and decisions that should be prohibited by common sense.
—Good morning to you too.
—Do not try to be funny. Your condition is grotesque.
—But improving.
—That is no excuse to continue existing so irresponsibly, I suppose.
Link opened his mouth.
Rem spoke first.
—Beatrice-sama, is Subaru out of danger?
Beatrice clicked her tongue.
—The main curses disappeared when their sources died. Minor and irritating remnants remain, but nothing Betty cannot finish removing once she has a proper room and silence. The noisy one will live, I suppose.
Subaru placed one hand against his chest.
—I never thought "the noisy one will live" could sound so beautiful.
—Do not ruin it by speaking.
—Too late.
Beatrice looked at Rem.
—And you need to sleep before your body decides to shut down on its own. Your horn is not a toy, in fact.
Rem lowered her head.
—Yes.
Ram observed her from the corner of her eye.
—Rem will listen to Beatrice-sama.
—Yes, Nee-sama.
—And she will not work upon reaching the mansion.
Rem looked up.
—But—
—No.
—Nee-sama—
—No.
Subaru whispered to Link:
—That was Ram's version of "yes, Rem."
Link answered just as quietly:
—More terrifying.
Ram looked at them.
—Ram can hear you.
Both immediately straightened like criminals caught in the act.
The carriage journey was less heroic than anyone might have imagined for survivors of a battle against Mabeasts.
Subaru fell asleep after ten minutes, despite swearing that he was "perfectly conscious and narratively active." Ram allowed him to slump against the seat without arranging him too comfortably. Rem, compelled by Ram and Beatrice, occupied a seat beside Link, although she insisted she could ride in the other carriage and inspect the supplies. No one listened to her. Luci floated above her knees for a while, and Rem observed the spirit with a faint calm, almost grateful for something that demanded no conversation. Link sat opposite her and forced himself to remain awake. Every time his eyes closed, he remembered blood inside his mouth and opened his fingers until his nails tore the skin of his palms.
Rem noticed.
She said nothing for several minutes.
Then she quietly asked:
—Is Link still hungry?
The question did not sound accusatory.
That made it harder.
Link looked through the carriage window. The trees passed slowly. Far away, in another transport, the Boss Wolgarm's corpse was traveling toward an examination that Subaru refused to witness.
—Not like before.
Rem held his gaze.
—But he is.
Link exhaled.
—Yes.
Rem lowered her gaze.
—The soup will help.
—I hope so.
—Rem does not judge Link.
—You should.
—Rem does not want to.
Link looked at her.
She looked exhausted to her bones. Even so, her eyes were clear. Sad and burdened, yes, but returned. Not trapped within her horn. Not lost inside an impossible command.
—Thank you —he said.
Rem barely nodded.
—Link did not judge Rem either.
He did not know how to respond.
The carriage continued onward.
The Roswaal mansion received them with its absurd beauty, its towers, its gardens, and a silver-haired figure waiting anxiously at the entrance.
Emilia was there.
The instant Subaru climbed down from the carriage, helped by Ram and wearing the face of someone who had returned from the other side of a nightmare, she approached him with rapid steps. Puck floated above her shoulder, serious. At first, she said nothing. That was the worst part. Subaru attempted to smile.
—Emilia-tan, before you say anything, I must clarify that in my defense—
—Subaru.
Emilia's voice was gentle.
She did not raise it.
For some reason, that made everyone become even more still.
—Yes.
—Do you know how worried I was?
Subaru opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Emilia looked at him with violet eyes shining from contained emotion. Fear was there. Anger as well, although she did not know how to sharpen it into a blade. Relief. Frustration. The kind of concern that did not need to scream to cause pain.
—You disappeared from the mansion after everything that happened. You returned injured. Mabeasts bit you. Beatrice said you were in danger of dying from the curses. Rem returned with barely any strength. Link came back covered in blood and with... —she briefly looked toward the distant carriage where the hornless Wolgarms remained contained— with things no one has explained to me yet.
Link raised a hand from behind.
—That last part will take time.
Puck looked at him.
—You are in no position to speak.
—Fair.
Emilia took a deep breath.
—I'm not saying you should not have saved the children. I could never say that. I am happy everyone is alive. But... Subaru, Link, Rem, all of you acted as though your lives were something you could spend without telling anyone.
Rem lowered her gaze.
Link said nothing.
Subaru swallowed.
—I'm sorry.
Emilia closed her eyes for a moment.
—I don't only want you to feel sorry. I want you to understand that if you had not returned, I... we...
The sentence broke.
Subaru, who could confront Mabeasts with a trembling sword more easily than he could endure seeing Emilia saddened because of him, raised his hands.
—I know. No, I don't completely understand, but I want to. And you're right. I was reckless. Very reckless. Classic Subaru level, forest edition. But also... if I had stayed behind, the children...
—I'm not saying you should have done nothing.
—I know.
Emilia looked at him with a mixture of tenderness and exasperation.
—That does not make me any less angry.
Subaru lowered his head.
—I accept the full scolding.
—Good.
—Does it include hitting?
—No.
—Thank goodness. I already received several from animal sources and one allied kagune.
Link looked away.
—Sorry.
Emilia turned toward him.
—You too.
Link froze.
—Yes.
—You cannot throw yourself at everything as though your regeneration means it does not matter.
The sentence struck a precise place.
Rem looked up at him.
Subaru did as well.
Link took a second to respond.
—I know.
—No, I don't think you do. If it hurts you, it matters. If you break, it matters. If you recover, that does not erase the fact that the others saw you fall.
Link lowered his gaze.
He had no defense against that.
Emilia breathed again, more gently.
—I'm happy everyone is alive. But I'm very angry.
Puck nodded from her shoulder.
—Lia nearly froze a table by accident.
—Puck!
—It's true.
Subaru blinked.
—That would have been a very elegant punishment.
Ram spoke from the side.
—Barusu should not admire potential methods of punishment.
—It's because they came from Emilia-tan.
Emilia looked at him.
Subaru straightened.
—I will not admire them. Understood.
Little by little, the atmosphere loosened. Not because the scolding had finished healing anything, but because everyone remained alive to receive it. Roswaal appeared behind them with his usual smile, explaining that the hornless Wolgarms would be confined inside a temporary enclosure far from the main grounds, that Beatrice would inspect the boss's corpse before permitting any "culinary experiment," and that the injured would be taken to their rooms.
Subaru, however, exploited an impossible opening.
—Emilia-tan.
She looked at him, still serious.
—Yes?
Subaru swallowed.
—When all of this stops hurting... and when you're no longer angry enough to consider turning tables into ice... would you go to the village with me?
Emilia blinked.
—To the village?
—Yes. A date. Well, a date with less death, fewer dogs, fewer curses, and preferably more peace. We could walk, talk, see the children once they're awake, and buy something. Something normal. I think... I think I would like to have a version of the village that does not smell like terror.
Emilia looked at him for several seconds.
Subaru began to sweat.
—And if you don't want to, I understand. You don't have to answer now. Or you can scold me more, which would also be fair. I only—
—All right.
Subaru froze.
—What?
Emilia lowered her gaze slightly, her cheeks faintly pink.
—I'll go with you. Once everyone has rested and Beatrice says you are well. But not if you try to get up before you should.
Subaru placed both hands against his chest as though he had received a divine blessing.
—My medical recovery has just found its supreme motivation!
Puck sighed.
—That is going to make him unbearable.
Ram closed her eye.
—It will make him more unbearable.
Rem, weak but now seated upon a chair brought by a servant, observed Subaru and Emilia with a serene expression. Link could not fully read it. There was exhaustion, perhaps tenderness, perhaps something else. But Rem did not sink. Not at that moment.
Link lowered his gaze toward her.
She noticed.
—Does Link wish to ask for something as well?
—Yes.
—What?
—A kitchen.
Subaru turned his head so quickly he nearly injured himself.
—No! We just left an emotional scene! Do not drag the soup into this!
Link raised his hands.
—I need to prepare the corpse before it spoils.
Emilia opened her mouth.
She closed it.
Puck floated toward him with an expression both horrified and fascinated.
—Are you serious?
—Extremely serious.
Roswaal smiled.
—Beatrice will inspect it first.
—Obviously.
Beatrice, appearing in the entrance as though she had been summoned by irritation, clicked her tongue.
—Betty does not inspect ingredients, I suppose.
—You inspect curses.
—Inside a corpse you want to turn into soup. That is inspecting ingredients, in fact.
—Technically.
—Do not say "technically."
Subaru moved closer to Emilia with the expression of someone seeking moral refuge.
—Emilia-tan, please use your authority as a sensible person.
Emilia appeared caught between nausea, concern, and a curiosity she did not wish to admit.
—If... if it helps Link recover, and Beatrice says it is not dangerous...
Subaru recoiled as though betrayed by the heavens.
—No! Another collapse of sanity!
Ram spoke.
—Barusu can go to his room and smell nothing.
—That is precisely what I will do.
He did not.
One hour later, Subaru was sitting in a corner of the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket, holding a cup of tea and wearing an expression of absolute moral defeat. He claimed he was there to "ensure civilization did not collapse," although everyone knew he was also far too curious to leave. Rem had been sent to rest by the combined orders of Ram, Emilia, Beatrice, and Puck; her defeat was so complete that she did not even attempt to stand again. Emilia also withdrew after making Subaru promise three times that he would not move, and Puck threatened to freeze his shoes if he tried.
Link remained inside the kitchen.
Not alone.
Ram supervised with the face of someone who did not want to appear interested. Beatrice sat in a chair with her book in hand after declaring the corpse "repulsive, but without any relevant active curse for consumption, I suppose." Roswaal authorized the use of a secondary preparation area, more out of curiosity than trust. Several servants helped transport the corpse and then fled in an extremely polite manner.
The Boss Wolgarm was divided into sections.
Link worked with a seriousness so sharply contrasting his usual jokes that Subaru stopped commenting for several minutes. First, Link washed the meat. Then he cut it. He separated bones, fat, and lean meat. He smelled each section with uncomfortable precision. Beatrice made a disgusted expression when Link separated one portion that, according to him, was "too heavily saturated with bad vibes." Ram asked whether that was an official culinary category. Link replied that it was now.
The soup began with roasted bones inside an enormous pot.
Subaru groaned.
—I cannot believe that smells good.
That was the problem.
It smelled good.
Not from the beginning, of course. At first, it smelled of forest, iron, and questionable decisions. But then Link added water, salt, strong herbs, aromatic roots, local onion, an acidic fruit to cut through the fat, and spices Rem had arranged inside the pantry and which Link seemed to remember through pure culinary instinct. The smell slowly changed. First into broth. Then deep meat. Then something warm and dense, with a wild note that was not unpleasant, but strangely powerful. The kitchen filled with an aroma that evoked winter food, a broken body recovering, and hunger being answered by something more serious than a simple meal.
Ram frowned.
—This is offensive.
—What is? —Subaru asked.
—That it smells good.
—Exactly! That is what I have been saying with my traumatized silence!
Without looking toward the pot, Beatrice murmured:
—If you die from eating that, Betty will not clean the mess, in fact.
—No one else is going to eat it —Link said.
—Good.
Subaru raised his hand.
—I did not say no one else was going to eat. I said I morally objected. That leaves room for one scientific spoonful if the smell continues betraying me.
Ram looked at him.
—Barusu is weak.
—I know. I'm in my self-awareness arc.
While the soup boiled, Link prepared jerky.
He cut thin strips of Wolgarm meat, removed the tough sections, and marinated them with salt, herbs, a little acid, and spicy seasonings from the pantry. Then he placed them near low heat, using an improvised technique involving metal racks, controlled hot air, and a small amount of Goa so restrained that Beatrice threatened to lock him away if he transformed the kitchen into another crater. Link obeyed. The flame was small. Almost humble. Subaru called it "personal growth." Link threw a strip of cloth at his face.
The broth took hours.
During that time, the mansion gradually returned to its normal noise. Servants walking, Ram issuing orders, Roswaal disappearing to handle his affairs, Beatrice entering and leaving irritably, Subaru refusing to leave the kitchen because he had already accepted that his curiosity was stronger than his common sense. Link did not speak much. Rem did not appear either. That was good. She needed sleep. She needed to avoid carrying anything more. Link repeated that thought every time part of him wanted to go and see her.
When the soup was ready, the smell had become indecently delicious.
Subaru described it that way.
—This is indecently delicious. The adjective is important.
Ram, who had pretended not to look toward the pot for an hour, finally agreed to examine the broth.
—Its appearance is not repulsive.
—In Ram language, that is a Michelin star —Subaru said.
—Ram does not know what that means, but suspects Barusu ruined it.
Link served a bowl.
The broth was dark, with a golden sheen across the surface, pieces of shredded meat, tender roots, and floating herbs. It did not look monstrous. That was the problem. It looked like food. Good food. Food prepared by someone who knew how to respect an ingredient even when the ingredient had attempted to eat him first.
Link held the bowl between both hands.
For a second, no one spoke.
It was not merely soup.
Everyone knew it.
It meant admitting that his body needed it. That Mabeast flesh was not an emergency oddity, but a tool. Perhaps a future necessity. Perhaps a dangerous door.
Link blew gently across the surface.
He tasted it.
He closed his eyes.
The flavor was brutally good.
Not like refined noble cuisine. Not like dessert. Not exactly like home. It was deep, intense, animalistic, with clean fat, balanced acidity, and an undercurrent of mana his body recognized before his tongue did. The meat fell apart. The broth descended through his throat like gentle fire.
Then his body responded.
Not wildly as it had in the forest.
Not with frenzy.
With restoration.
The fatigue vanished first from his fingers. Then his shoulders. Then his chest. The wounds that were still slowly closing finished sealing. The lingering pain of broken bones faded away. The heaviness within his Od, the emptiness left behind by Al Goa – R·E·M, filled with steady warmth. Mana began circulating once again without the roughness of a half-empty vessel. Beneath his skin, his kagunes ceased feeling exhausted. His hidden horns responded with a faint and comfortable pulse, no longer hungry.
Link opened his eyes.
Subaru was looking at him with fear.
—What happened?
Link took another spoonful.
—I feel new.
Ram frowned.
—Define "new."
—No exhaustion. No pain. No dizziness. No strange hunger. Everything... stable.
Beatrice lowered her book slightly.
—Impossible.
—I don't usually lie to soup.
—That means nothing.
Link drank again.
The feeling settled more firmly. It was not euphoria. It was not loss of control. It was genuine nourishment for the most dangerous part of his nature, processed in a way that did not drag his mind toward frenzy. The heat of the kitchen, the salt, the herbs, and the slow cooking transformed it into something his human side could accept and his monstrous side could use.
Subaru swallowed.
—Then... it works?
Link looked at the bowl.
—It works too well.
That silence was different.
Ram understood the problem.
Beatrice did as well.
Subaru understood slightly later, and some of the color drained from his face.
—Oh.
Link placed the bowl on the table.
—I will not eat this without control. It will be prepared, stored, and measured. No wandering through the forest biting things like an animal.
Subaru nodded quickly.
—I support that motion with my entire traumatized soul.
Beatrice closed her book.
—Betty will inspect the portions, I suppose.
Link looked at her.
—You're going to help?
—Do not get excited. It is to prevent your existence from becoming even more troublesome, in fact.
—I accept.
Ram crossed her arms.
—Ram will also inform Rem.
Link became still.
—Why?
—Because Link would hide the worrying details to avoid worrying her, which would worry Rem even more when she discovered them.
Subaru pointed at Ram.
—That was an impeccable and painful social reading.
Link sighed.
—All right.
He took another spoonful.
Subaru looked at him.
—Does it taste as good as it smells?
Link smiled faintly.
—Better.
Subaru closed his eyes.
—Give me one spoonful.
Ram looked at him as though she had just bitten an invisible lemon.
—Barusu.
—A scientific one! One scientific spoonful. Don't look at me like that. I have survived worse.
—That is not a defense.
Link served a small spoonful into another bowl.
Subaru stared at it like a man confronting his destiny.
—If I die, tell Emilia my final wish was the date.
—You are not going to die from soup.
—That is exactly what a murderous soup would say.
He tasted it.
He remained still.
Ram raised an eyebrow.
Subaru swallowed slowly.
—I am furious.
Link smiled.
—Why?
—Because it's good.
Ram closed her eye.
—Civilization falls in stages.
Beatrice murmured:
—How troublesome.
Luci glowed as though celebrating.
And so, inside a kitchen in the Roswaal mansion, after curses, Wolgarms, horns, blue fire, Emilia's scolding, and a date request accepted under medical conditions, Link finished drinking the first bowl of Mabeast soup.
With every spoonful, the monster inside him stopped scratching at the door.
It did not disappear.
It was not that easy.
But for the first time since the hunger had awakened inside the forest, Link felt he could feed it without allowing it to take control.
On the other side of the mansion, Rem slept.
Subaru spoke too much to hide the fact that he remained worried.
Ram pretended not to watch the pot.
Beatrice pretended to read.
And on the outer grounds, seven hornless Wolgarms waited in silence, fed by foreign mana, confined between orders and fear, transformed into living proof that the night had not merely left behind wounds.
It had also left tools.
Dangerous.
Repulsive.
Useful.
Link looked at the empty bottom of his bowl.
Then toward the strips of meat slowly drying beside the low heat.
—Well —he finally said—. At least we didn't waste the boss.
Subaru dropped his forehead against the table.
—I hate that this sentence makes sense.
Ram replied without emotion:
—Ram does as well.
Beatrice turned a page.
—Betty hates that all of you are still speaking, in fact.
Luci glowed.
The soup continued smelling delicious.
And against all moral expectations, no one could deny it.