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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Rat Meat
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"Anybody here?"
Chrome shouted loudly.
It was quiet.
Serena moved the orb of light to the fountain in the center of the lobby. Nothing happened. Aside from the darkness, it was exactly as it had been before the group left.
"Did the lighting mechanism break, or is the mana depleted?"
The group scattered to search for anything unusual. For easier exploration, Serena cast the light orb spell once more. She tensed, worried it might fail, but fortunately, it succeeded this time too.
'See? If you shut up, it works just fine.'
Skills learned through the body really did last. Serena felt quietly proud and straightened her slumped shoulders, weary from fatigue. Her chest made her shoulders and back ache more than usual. Probably from craning her neck to check for traps—it hurt worse than normal.
She checked the cave leading to the exit blocked by rocks, but found nothing.
In the end, the exhausted group gathered near the fountain.
"The rats could come through there, so I'll stand watch by the passage."
Hanson volunteered to rest near the passage.
Chrome fetched her cart, rummaged inside, and pulled out a bucket. She hesitated for a moment, then plunged it into the fountain to scoop up water.
"Won't die on me now, will ya?"
Chrome picked up the rat corpse and the bucket, looking around. She was searching for a spot to prepare it. Near water was best, so right by the fountain was ideal, but she didn't know what would happen to the water spilling outside it.
If it didn't drain properly, it'd stagnate and stink. She needed a spot without tiles—at least somewhere the water could seep in.
"I'll prep it over there."
Chrome headed toward the cave with the rat and bucket. She soon called back that it was too dark and asked for a light orb.
"Lemme borrow a pot."
"Don't touch anything else."
Serena wanted to peek at what was in the cart, but Chrome flatly refused. She pulled out a bag with food, spices, pots, cooking utensils, and dishes, then covered the cart with a blanket.
"The wood'll warp if it gets damp. Don't go pokin' around. You'll ruin it all."
She'd gathered scraps from a lumberyard—fresh green wood. Being the one with the most possessions, she had plenty to offer, but Chrome reacted sensitively.
'Can she sell it to kids even with splinters?'
Maybe commoner children, with their callused hands, weren't fazed by wood splinters.
Respecting Chrome's property rights, Serena made ice in the pot she'd set out.
The sensation of cold ice water sliding down her throat into her stomach was sharply refreshing.
Looking back, Serena hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that morning.
She was hungry.
Serena took the pot of remaining water and approached Chrome.
Chrome was the oldest in the group. Yet because she was a commoner used to blades, she'd fought the rats. She'd pulled the cart alone while they rested, and now she was handling the rats too.
It felt wrong to dump everything on one person. It reminded her of the grandmother who had raised her in her past life, making it feel even worse.
'She did bring the cart on her own, but still.'
But Chrome's reaction wasn't welcoming.
Why're you here?
She didn't say it, but her eyes screamed it.
Serena handed over the pot of water and looked around to see if she could help.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Huh? Lady Serena, you should be restin' over there!"
"I'll help!"
Philia paled at the princess's shocking declaration. Lavenda, not knowing how but wanting to help, squatted down beside Chrome anyway.
Chrome snorted in disbelief, then cleared her throat to stifle a laugh.
"How's a princess gonna help with rat pups? Long as you don't faint... Whoa."
Chrome sliced the rat's neck with a kitchen knife from the cart. The head—fist-sized, like that of a sturdy adult man—rolled across the floor.
The lifeless eyes and bloodied tongue met Philia's lake-like gaze.
Unlike Serena, who had seen even fish eyes at markets in her past life, Philia was a true noble lady with no such memories.
She'd never locked eyes with a dead creature in her life—let alone a grotesque rat.
Philia's slender frame swayed.
"Ahh."
"Countess!"
"Lavenda, support Philia and take her over there."
"Yes. But Princess..."
"I won't faint. Just take her."
Lavenda hurriedly supported Philia and led her away.
"Knew it'd be like this. Help? You're just in the way—scram before you see more nasty stuff."
Even as she spoke, Chrome's hands moved busily. She skinned the headless rat, slit its belly, and removed the innards. She washed the meat with fountain water, then rinsed it again with what Serena brought.
"Hands are freezin'. Almost done, so Princess, you head back now. Oh."
Chrome glanced between the fresh rat meat and cold water, as if struck by an idea.
"Princess, you know how to make fire?"
"Can't you make it yourself?"
"Got flint, but no kindlin'. Can't make fire like you do ice?"
"I'm not great with fire magic..."
Ice was essential when she craved something cold, so she'd mastered it. Fire? When would a princess need to light one? Cold? Furs piled high in warehouses awaited Serena's selection.
She could cast ignition spells, but they were short-lived—not the sustained flame Chrome wanted.
"Makes sense. Heard mages blow stuff up with fireballs, but never that they cook with 'em. Gotta find kindlin' then."
There was moss in the cave, but it was damp, hard to light, and scant. Chrome put the rat meat in the bucket by the fountain and rummaged through the cart, but found little.
Kindling was usually gathered from nearby woods anyway. So she only carried flint and a bit of oil, not firewood.
Philia, having overcome her dizziness through devotion and loyalty to Serena, approached and asked,
"Whatcha lookin' for?"
"Need fire to cook, but no kindlin', so I'm searchin'."
"Isn't there plenty right there? Can't that all be kindling?"
Philia innocently pointed to the cart's load. As she said, it was piled high with wood scraps.
"Philia, you're tired—your eyesight's off. That's not kindling; it's Chrome's carvings and toys."
The carvings and toys were crude, roughly finished. But you could tell what they depicted, and the toys were painted for some flair.
'Splinters and all.'
"It's merchandise for a merchant-craftsman to make a living. Not kindling."
"It can be kindling. There's tons. Hey, I'll buy it all."
Chrome, who'd been silently listening since she couldn't interrupt a princess and countess, grumbled,
"See, Countess? If I was gonna burn it for kindlin', why'd I rummage the cart? Looks junky to fine folk, but it's how I eat. A married lady oughta know better than that."
"Will this much cover it?"
"Won't do it. Oh, seein' the woes of us ignoramuses... I'm honored."
It was too much money to refuse. Chrome broke down the toys and carvings into fire-friendly sizes herself.
"Watch for splinters—Princess, Countess, and massage girl, don't touch. I'll handle it. You too, soldier."
"I wasn't asleep!"
Hanson, who'd dozed off by the passage, shot up and yelled. It was more pitiful than pathetic.
"I'll reward all your efforts, so don't worry."
"Oh, no need."
"Wasn't asleep! Wide awake! Perfectly fine!"
Rat prep and cooking fell to Chrome. Energized by the gold for kindling, she moved briskly.
She lit the fire, seasoned the rat meat, added some dried grains to the pot for porridge.
While it cooked, she carved spoons and bowls from suitable scraps with her knife.
The savory aroma of bubbling rat meat filled the air. Thunder rumbled in Serena's stomach. The others clutched theirs too, hovering near the pot. Even Hanson woke drooling.
"Is it safe to light a fire in an enclosed space like this?"
Lavenda voiced her concern loudly, as if asking anyone. Chrome was busy, Philia clueless, Hanson probably too. Only Serena could answer.
"There must be vents even if we can't see them. See? The smoke's already fading."
"Right."
"All done."
Chrome lifted the pot lid. Steam billowed then vanished. The milky broth with floating oil, grain-soaked barley and oats, and tender meat looked appetizing.
'If only I didn't know what it was.'
"Here, Princess first."
Chrome ladled generous rat porridge into the princess's specially sanded bowl to avoid splinters.
"Thanks."
"Next, our merciful Countess."
"No meat for me."
"Gotta eat meat for strength. That's why you're all bones."
Chrome picked out scarce barley and oats for Philia's bowl. A bit of tender meat slipped in, but unavoidable.
"Next, soldier boy—lotsa meat for you."
"Thanks. Dig in."
"Last, the kickin' massage girl. From Vieta, right? Impressive, really."
"You first, Chrome. Thank you."
Chrome served herself last, emptying the pot.
"Eat up hearty-like."
Chrome dug into her rat porridge without hesitation.
"Made it salty since y'all worked hard."
"Yep."
"Y-yeah..."
Hunger had them circling the pot, but facing actual rat porridge, spoons hesitated.
Serena was glad this world lacked the custom of waiting for elders to start.
If it did, they'd all stare at her until she ate.
'Ugh.'
Reborn a princess, yet eating rat meat.
Never imagined devouring her first rat—untried even in her past life—after gourmet feasts.
'Rats have been humanity's handy protein source since ancient times. After harvest, farmers raid field holes for grain and rats alike. Even before I died, some cultures ate them. Better than bugs, honestly.'
Her delay was just to cool the hot porridge!
Self-convinced, Serena took a bite. Salty as promised, with a faint gamey smell.
'Can't place it.'
Gamey, but new—words failed her. While Serena ransacked her poor vocabulary, the others, inspired by her courage, tried it.
"Tastes good!"
"Warm and nice."
"Tastes bad..."
Philia whined, but all were satisfied with hot broth after hardship.
Hanson hesitated at first, then sped up, emptying his bowl fast. Others slower, but similar.
Philia alone poked at hers, so Serena chided,
"Gotta eat if we wanna move tomorrow—even if you hate it."
"Yeah, I know."
Philia held her breath and nibbled. Serena passed Hanson's canteen to help her swallow.
"Urp—haa!"
"Don't choke—chew well even if holding breath."
"Okay."
Tired but full. Fire kept them warm.
Faces, gripped by sudden disaster and fear, now bore faint smiles.
Hanson dozed again; Philia fiddled with the unresponsive communicator.
"Gonna rinse these."
Chrome moved to wash the pot and bowls. Serena started to rise but stopped.
Too exhausted. She could sleep through an ice-water dousing.
Lavenda's voice woke Serena, dozing like Hanson.
"Princess."
"Mm? What is it?"
The Vietan masseuse—come for work abroad, caught in calamity—looked worst among them. Anxiety from being foreign made sense, but this was extreme.
"Not meaning to oppose Your Highness... but is this really the Royal Mausoleum?"
"It's odd for one. Hwaji's closed terrain breeds isolated culture, and royal tombs are especially unique."
"But I've been somewhere like this before."
"Like this?"
Lavenda hugged herself, face drained pale.
