Chapter 12: What to Do When Your Body Feels Hot

After being force-fed a bite of each dish, Milly felt her soul begin to detach from her body.

She was ascending.

This was it.

But a cold touch jolted her back to reality.

Stacy was gently caressing her face, that same look of eager anticipation in her eyes.

“Was Little Milly satisfied with her meal?”

Satisfied?

Of course she was satisfied.

Did she dare say anything else?

Milly forced a smile, but it was uglier than a grimace.

The words that tumbled from her cherry lips were laced with a tremor.

“Satis… fied. Thank you, Master…”

A sob caught in her throat.

She truly couldn’t eat another bite.

If Stacy tried to force her, she would rather be electrocuted into oblivion than taste those abominations again.

Milly’s ghastly expression stirred a flicker of unease in Stacy.

‘Could it be…?’

She had forgotten to taste it before serving.

But she had followed the cookbook’s instructions to the letter.

Logically, there shouldn’t have been any issues.

Her original plan had been to spring a surprise quiz on today’s vocabulary mid-dinner.

She had everything planned out—the questions, the punishments for wrong answers, even the positions for tonight’s “bed warming.”

But why had the very first step gone so wrong?

It didn’t ruin the subsequent plans, but it fell short of her standards of perfection.

She picked up a knife, sliced off a piece of the twitching steak, and brought it to her lips.

In her haste to let Milly taste her cooking, she had forgotten the most crucial step.

It was… off.

The flavor was nothing like the cookbook described.

No wonder Milly had looked like that.

Stacy’s brow furrowed. She had to swallow three times before the piece finally went down.

“The heat… it seems a bit off.”

A tendril suddenly snatched the plate from in front of Milly.

A rare, displeased expression crossed Stacy’s beautiful face, though at least it wasn’t directed at her.

Milly remained slumped in her chair.

So, Stacy hadn’t made this monstrosity just to torture her.

She was simply a terrible cook who thought she was a culinary genius.

At least her taste buds were still functional.

She hadn’t actually found that unholy mess delicious.

After clearing the plate, Stacy plunged back into the kitchen.

A sense of dread crept into Milly’s heart.

‘She’s not going to… remake it, is she?’

The thought of another writhing steak made her stomach heave.

She had to find a place to throw up, now.

With Stacy gone, the tendrils on the chair had released her.

She was about to leave when another tentacle emerged from under the table, holding a crystal goblet filled with water.

It looked clear, transparent—just ordinary water.

But after what had just been on her plate, Milly snatched her hand back.

Better not.

She was about to jump off the chair when she found herself frozen again.

The tendrils from the chairback had wrapped around her once more.

‘I can’t leave unless I drink it, right?’

Milly stared at the goblet, her brow furrowed.

Fine.

She had already swallowed abominations.

What was a simple glass of water?

She picked it up and downed it in one go.

It was the first normal thing she had tasted all day.

Sweet, like honeyed water.

It was actually… good.

She couldn’t help but flip an international friendly gesture toward the kitchen.

‘You had normal stuff all along and didn’t bring it out sooner?!’

She placed the empty glass back on the table, and the restraints released her.

She hopped off the chair, her little white-stockinged feet pattering softly as she left the room.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Stacy frowned deeply.

She had followed the steps exactly.

Why did the final product look nothing like the picture?

She had lost count of her failures.

Each time, she followed the cookbook meticulously.

And each time, the result was…

She looked at the still-twitching steak.

A jet of flame shot from her palm, incinerating the contents of the plate.

In the past, she would never have made such things.

Now, she felt… numb.

Even seeing the abominations she created, she didn’t find it strange.

She had adapted.

She even thought she had done a good job, just like when she had eagerly awaited Milly’s praise.

But in reality, that “meal” had tormented Milly horribly.

If it had been her past self—the one before she was called a Fell God—her reaction would have been even stronger than Milly’s.

A self-deprecating smile touched Stacy’s lips.

How long had it been since she had gained that title, since she had become the stain on the Augustian Empire?

She couldn’t remember.

But Milly’s arrival had given her a sliver of hope.

The method to uncover that hope, however, would require slow experimentation.

No matter.

She had time.

She could wait for Milly to reveal it willingly.

And if she wasn’t willing… well, Stacy would help her be willing.

Her red pupils constricted as she stared at the cookbook in her hand.

But for now, she would take it slow.

“Blegh…”

After emptying the contents of her stomach, Milly collapsed beside the sink.

It had taken her ages to find a washroom.

She had almost thrown up in the hallway.

Stacy would have definitely used that as an excuse to punish her.

Her stomach was empty, but the foul taste lingered in her mouth.

Even after rinsing, the disgusting flavor remained.

She wondered how Stacy’s second attempt at cooking was going.

She wouldn’t call her back for another taste test, would she?

A shiver of dread ran down her spine.

No way.

While Stacy was busy in the kitchen, Milly continued her exploration of the castle.

It was even bigger than she had imagined.

And aside from Stacy, completely empty.

She passed by the ruined throne hall.

The stone walls were covered in intricate carvings that looked like magical arrays—things she couldn’t understand.

The hall had been cleaned up since she first arrived.

The shattered platinum armor was gone.

She wondered who those people had been.

It was a shame.

If she had touched something related to her original body, she might have regained some memories.

But now, it was all gone.

After about an hour, Milly had a rough map of the first floor in her head.

She found the front door.

It had been destroyed in some attack, but an invisible barrier blocked the exit—an air wall.

There was also a back door leading to a garden, but it was locked.

No escape route yet.

She would have to check the other floors.

That was enough for today.

She was getting tired.

Back in the bedroom, Stacy had not yet returned.

She must still be in the kitchen.

If she wasn’t being called, she might as well sleep.

But as she closed her eyes, something felt wrong.

Her body… it felt a little hot.