"Gruh…! That is still nasty, I feel like throwing up."
Seven poured the dregs of the tea out the window. He took one hopeful sip first before that and prayed the taste had somehow improved, but it didn't.
Scribble!
After circling the tenth day on the calendar, he took a quick bath and leaned against the window frame to let the cold wind dry his damp hair.
"I… badly want to rest, damn it. I'm burned out."
So much has happened in the last nine days. He had not had a drop of peace since arriving in this world, and honestly, he couldn't even afford to rest now— he still had a ceremony to worry about.
Besides…
"That damn flying shark, I'd better ask Iria about it."
His gaze wandered down to the knights patrolling the yard.
He knew he should also be down there at the training camp, but as his eyes trailed back up, he noticed the potted plant sitting on the exterior ledge just below his window.
"It's... dead?"
He leaned out further.
The plant was a shriveled, blackened husk. The fronds were curled into brittle spirals and a faint yellowish steam seemed to rise from the soil where he had dumped the dregs of his cup.
"Is it because of the tea? Heh. Even the flora couldn't withstand that nasty—"
Knock, knock!
"My lord, may I come in?" Iria's voice called from the other side.
"Go ahead."
Iria entered, carrying a heavy tray full of… glorious meat!
His mouth watered instantly, no wonder breakfast had been so light on protein; she must have been slow roasted this for hours.
Step, step.
But as Iria approached, he noticed something off. Her usual bright energy felt dampened and her shoulders were lower than usual.
'She looks... kind of gloomy. Is something troubling her…?'
As if sensing his gaze, Iria smiled— rather, forced a smile as she placed the tray on the desk.
Seven's attention shifted from her gloomy expression to the meat before him as he immediately snatched a piece, munching like a hungry caveman.
"You truly do love meat, my lord," Iria said, covering her mouth as she giggled. "If Lady Eden were to see you in this state right now, she would probably think you were famished for months."
"T-thwat sho? Dwont whorry abhout it."
He mumbled a reply through a mouthful of steak.
Iria began gathering the empty breakfast utensils from earlier, preparing to leave. Seeing her being eager to go, he grabbed the meat tray with one hand and a fresh drumstick with the other.
"Whait! Lhet… cough!... me come with you."
"Pardon?"
"The library. I… felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to read."
Iria puffed her cheeks, poking one with a finger as she thought deeply.
"But do you not have an obligation to train with the knights again today, my lord?"
"Ehe…"
He grinned like a Cheshire cat.
He knew he should be at the training grounds to grow stronger, but that could wait. His priority right now was cheering up his attendant.
"How silly of you, my lord," Iria pouted. "But I believe it would be best if you head to the training camp today."
"Gve me a breaaaaak… I am still exhausted from training with my sister yesterday."
He groaned dramatically, waving a piece of meat.
"If you truly insist, my lord."
"Aight."
Step, step.
They walked through the hallways together, exchanging small banter along the way— mostly Seven exaggerating an explanation about almost everything.
By the time they reached the kitchen, he had already finished the tray of meat.
With a bit of persistence and some shameless praise, he even managed to convince Iria to take a bite and taste her own 'delicious' cooking.
Iria looked embarrassed, her face turning pink, but she didn't stop him.
Afterward, he helped wash the few dishes they had used. It didn't take long with two pairs of hands.
As they moved into the storage room to put things away, he noted the change. The room was well-stocked now; lots of meat hung neatly from the rafters, baskets of veggies lined the walls, and much more.
Everything looked abundant, almost excessive even.
But as he watched Iria more and more, he couldn't help but frown.
'I didn't notice it much earlier because of things that kept me busy, but her cheeks definitely look thinner than they were a week ago.'
He watched her slender wrists as she lifted a jar.
'Does she even eat properly? I hope she doesn't limit her food intake, thinking that she is just an attendant.'
He didn't really give much care about her before, but not when he could no longer admire her beauty because of his worries.
Once the kitchen was spotless, he followed Iria as she checked the soil of the potted plants before pouring, adjusted the pots to catch the gentle light amidst the snow, and gently wiped snowflakes from the leaves.
Iria smiled after noticing a few newly formed buds.
After an hour of doing all that, they finally moved to the next area: the library. It was small and cramped, smelling of cedarwood and old paper.
'I didn't expect this to actually have a library, since Seven only read books present in his room. Besides, I only spoke that 'I read it in the library' to bullshit my way out from Eden's suspicion.'
He held the heavy stool as Iria dusted the high shelves, making his senses alert just in case Iria fell— he's definitely not thinking about catching her like a princess.
Iria opened the windows then, letting the air wash through the musty room before she began realigning the books on the shelves. He handed the books to her one by one, reading the titles to search for anything useful.
"Ah!" Iria suddenly gasped, nearly dropping a duster like she had just remembered something important. "Forgive me, my lord. Did you not mention earlier that you wished to read something?"
"Kind of…"
He leaned against the shelf made of cedar wood.
"I was planning to start once we finished the cleaning. I mean, there's no sense in reading in a cloud of dust."
"If that is the case, then I must attend to my duties with more haste."
Iria's movements becoming crisp and efficient as she began polishing the spines of the leather-bound volumes.
"Hey, now. There is no need for such a rush. It isn't like these books are going to grow legs and run away."
He chuckled, reaching out to steady a stack of books before they could topple.
"Yes, my lord."
They spent the next hour in a comfortable rhythm. Seven handled the heavy lifting while Iria focused on the meticulous organization she took such pride in.
Eventually, they finished the general library cleaning.
"It is finished, my lord. You may begin your reading session in peace," Iria smoothed her apron and gave a small respectful bow. "Shall I fetch you some fresh tea?"
"No, no! Anything but that!"
"Pardon?"
"Erm, I mean… nevermind."
He scratched the back of his head, he'd definitely accept anything but the tea!
"But Iria. Before that… about the collection here, is there a volume concerning the... uh... the Fff-f-f…"
Iria tilted her head, her expression one of confusion.
"The... F?"
"...The f-flying shark."
"..."
Iria did not answer immediately.
She remained perfectly still, regarding him with such wide-eyed curiosity that her lord felt like a child asking if the moon were made of cheese.
Then, her shoulders began to tremble.
She pressed her hand firmly over her mouth to maintain her dignity, but a bright and genuine heap of laughter escaped nonetheless.
"H-hey…! I—"
"I… I offer my sincerest apologies, my lord. I was merely… taken aback by the specificity of your inquiry."
Iria gestured toward a section of the room where the shelves were packed with leather bound bestiaries and old travelogues.
"I believe the folklore and biological records are kept in that corner, Section 3H. You may find about the f-f-f…"
"That's enough. You may leave now."
"I shall take my leave now to attend to the linens, my lord."
Creak, thud!
Iria left the library room and closed the door shut.
'Damn it, I want to die of embarrassment. Still, at least that made her laugh…'
He now stood alone in the silence of the library, the only sound the faint whistle of the wind against the windowpane. He then sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as Iria's laughter still lingered in the air.
"Section 3H… Section 3H…"
He scanned the spines until his eyes landed on a tattered, leather bound volume that looked like it had been chewed on by a goat.
The title was faded gold leaf lettering barely clinging to the spine:
— [Obsidian Bestiary: Terrors of the Northern Rim]
He pulled it out.
The book was surprisingly heavy, and the pages were as thick as a dictionary.
He flipped through sketches of frost dragons, ice wyrms, and other beasts dominating the sky, until he reached the ocean section and a page earmarked so often the corner was nearly transparent.
"No way, that absurd thing really does exist?!"
There was a cursive script before the drawing, saying:
— The Velosqualus. Commonly known as the Flying Shark.
He read further down the passage:
— …a creature of pure predatory instinct. It is rarely sighted by men, for it does not hunt the beasts of Gaia.
— ...does not appear to swim. Instead, it flies through the heavy water with the grace of a phantom in a cloudless sky.
— …is a scavenger of the tide, whispered to be a parasite of the Leviathan. It is said they only descend from the highest clouds when a Leviathan bleeds, attracted to the scent of its blood.
He frowned.
The name Leviathan wasn't just a fancy word for a big fish. In the novel, that thing was practically the penultimate boss that the protagonist barely defeated.
Later, it was revealed to be a creation of Nevidea of Envy.
If the flying shark only appeared after being attracted to the blood of Leviathan, then catching one (ironically in that river called Stygora) is nothing but just a fever dream!
"Damn it. Did I just happen to make an unpayable debt to that old man?!"