Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 14: Raw Meat and Roasted Meat
The next second, Salaar resisted by reflex. Using his larger build, he rolled and pinned Myss beneath him.
Myss twisted his body in an unimaginable way and slipped out through the gaps of Salaar’s limbs. Then, he hooked a long leg, plopped down on Salaar’s lower back, and clamped both hands on the back of his neck.
The single wooden bed creaked under the strain, thumping against the floor.
Seeing that Myss wasn’t using offensive magic, Salaar stopped struggling and said helplessly, “What is it now?”
“Don’t move. I need to smell you,” Myss said. “You have picked up a strange scent.”
Salaar: “……”
Salaar: “You could’ve asked for permission.”
“Ah, why would I need your permission?” Myss bared his teeth. “You brought an army to attack me before, and you didn’t ‘ask for permission’.”
Salaar was left momentarily speechless. “Then smell away.”
Myss was satisfied.
He climbed off Salaar’s back, and Salaar obligingly rolled over, lying spread-eagle on the bed in silent resignation. Myss propped himself over him, and with a smug look, buried his head to sniff.
Salaar liked to keep clean. Although they had been out and about most of the day, he hardly smelled of sweat.
His black hair was infused with an herbal fragrance. His collar carried a faint soapy scent. His collarbones and the hollow of his throat exuded a warm “Salaar smell”—like warm amber, sun-dried linen, and a hint of musk.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the scent Myss was after.
Impatient, Myss yanked open Salaar’s shirt and rubbed the tip of his nose over his mortal enemy’s chest. Very soon he found his target—that curious aroma hidden deep within his flesh.
Sure enough, Salaar’s light personal scent was still there, only now there was an added smell of butter cookies. The latter was extremely faint. Rather than something Salaar gave off himself, it was more like something that had accidentally rubbed off on him.
This was it. He had smelled the same aroma on Mina.
Thinking back, that scent was identical to Covington’s, only far weaker than Covington’s.
Just to be safe, Myss tugged Salaar’s shirt open farther. He sniffed hard along the man’s chest and abdomen, then all the way back to his throat and jaw, as if he meant to suck Salaar’s soul out.
His breath pressed close to Salaar’s skin, leaving warm damp traces as it went.
Yes, it was definitely Covington’s scent, Myss judged fairly.
He now strongly suspected that Mina had picked it up from Covington, and that Salaar, after close contact with her, had picked up a little as well.
He closed his eyes and carefully recalled Kai on the carriage, Mina in the bookshop, and the dead Covington… even that bird-beaked demon that radiated a strong scent.
“I understand.”
Myss shifted and rested his chin on Salaar’s chest, naturally treating the man as a cushion.
Salaar covered his eyes with the back of his hand, his expression a little stiff. “If you understand, get off me.”
Myss didn’t move. He shot Salaar a triumphant look. Salaar’s heartbeat sped up, his chest rose and fell without stopping, and Myss’s field of vision trembled lightly with it.
Myss liked this commanding vantage point. It reminded him of the past.
Sadly, the good moment didn’t last. Salaar couldn’t take it anymore and tightened both arms as if to choke Myss to death against his chest. Myss sprang up as if pinched by a clamp and hopped off the bed in a flash.
He straightened his clothes in dissatisfaction. “You should show me some respect. I have made a remarkable discovery.”
“Oh, then would you mind sharing it, Your Illustrious Lord Myss?” Salaar propped himself up and took a few deep breaths.
“I very much mind, actually, but I want to finish the investigation quickly,” Myss said. “Long story short, I seem to be able to smell the scent of ‘magic’.”
Salaar blinked and, rare for him, looked at Myss in confusion. Myss glanced at the cranberry soup on the floor and drew out a long “Mm”.
“If we compare human magic to food—don’t look at me like that; it’s just an analogy—then to me, magic falls into two kinds.”
“One is ‘raw meat’. The smell is very faint. You have to sniff for it on purpose to catch it.”
For example, the vast majority of humans, the faint-smelling Kai, and Salaar, whose scent is a little unripe.
“The other is ‘roasted meat’. Its scent is extremely strong. I suspect it’s caused by a mutation of magic.”
For example, Covington on the verge of death, and the bird-beaked demon while its wounds were healing.
“Mina is an exception. The aroma on her is too superficial and thin. Rather than smelling like roasted meat, she is more like someone who has just eaten barbeque.”
Myss climbed back onto his own bed and did his best to describe to Salaar what was peculiar about Mina and their encounter during the day. By the time he finished with gestures and metaphors, night had just fallen.
Salaar lit the lamp by the bed. The firelight lit up his pensive expression.
“A mutation of magic, is it. Interesting.”
“At present the Magibase is the source of human magic. By your account, Mina seems to have had a hand in Covington’s Magibase.”
Mr. Hero made the call almost at once. “…But how exactly she pulled it off, and whether it’s connected to Covington’s magic mutation, are both still uncertain.”
Thinking of that tempting butter-cookie aroma, Myss swallowed.
It was a shame he didn’t know the cause of the mutation. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have minded getting some for himself to taste.
“Back to the point.” Salaar idly toyed with the charcoal while he doodled on the page. “It seems you are extremely sensitive to magic, and you find this mutated magic very tasty.”
“Since you’re good at sensing magic, I suspect the Magibase looks different in your eyes as well. Earlier you mentioned a ‘strange hamster’, the way you looked at the old carpenter was off too, and you suddenly asked us whether the Magibase can talk…”
“…You can see the Magibase at any time and talk with them, right?”
Myss’s scalp prickled, and he shot back out of stubbornness, “Wrong.”
What’s with this kid? Things were plenty weird. Shouldn’t Salaar keep digging into Mina? How had the topic swerved back to him?
Salaar looked at him with something close to pity. “Heavens, I never imagined you would be this bad at lying.”
Before, he couldn’t read the emotions of a gigantic monster. Now Myss had been stuffed into a human shell, and that shell was flushing red and bristling with wariness right in front of him.
“Fine. Now I know why the old butler turned into mincemeat. You crushed his Magibase hamster.”
Salaar watched Myss’s face and went on ruthlessly.
“Looks like I really don’t have a Magibase. Otherwise, you would have jumped up triumphantly ages ago and waved it over my head as a threat.”
Right on the mark. Myss grabbed the sheets in despair and wrapped himself up like a cocoon.
“Good evening?” Salaar leaned close and knocked on the bundle in mock formality. “Anyone home?”
Myss pulled the blanket tighter. “You should think more about the connection between Mina and that strange disease. I gave you a new lead—”
“And you should put less stock in a bard’s nonsense,” Salaar said. “I don’t know how many bullshit hymns this slave has listened to. Remember this. My target has only ever been you.”
……
Myss slept with his head under the covers all night and was especially listless the next day.
Just last night he had lost his little secret, the way an animal loses the soft fur that hides its skin. Reality turned chilly and left him feeling unsafe.
He admitted it. His head really was stuffed full of hymns—
For slave traders, bards were the cheapest form of appeasement. For a few silver shields those paupers would sing to the slaves for a week, and they might even teach the slaves some new words along the way.
At this moment Myss almost wished Salaar were the legendary great hero.
If that were true, he could easily guess Salaar’s intentions. A great hero would never sit and watch a strange disease spread. He would immediately track Mina down and save Rosha from disaster, instead of…
“The inn’s barbeque is too expensive.”
Salaar sliced the roast beef on his plate. “Back in my day it was at most two copper teeth a piece, with a side of mashed beans. Shall we go stroll around the ritual grounds again today? The skewers over there are more affordable.”
“What about ‘Mina’? If even we were affected, ordinary humans have even less hope of resisting.”
Myss tried to rouse the conscience of Mr. Hero.
“Good morning, child.” Mina—or rather the Mina that existed only in memory—sat at his elbow. “Picky eating is bad for you. You need to finish the chicory in your bowl.”
Myss pointed at her for emphasis. “My memories are still twisted right now.”
Then he pushed the chicory on his plate even farther away.
“Ignore it. She can’t alter our real memories. So far, she has had no effect on the investigation.”
Salaar waggled his table knife. “Eat your chicory. Don’t waste food.”
Annoyed to the point of exasperation, Myss picked up his fork and speared the bitter chicory leaves into his mouth.
He could faintly sense that Mina couldn’t influence them any further.
The two of them were too unusual. They didn’t even have Magibase. She could only wedge herself into the memories of their shell bodies and play at being “mother”, which was pointless anyway.
“What if she keeps following me?” Myss muttered.
Salaar laughed. “Isn’t that better?”
“She targets consciousness rather than flesh. If she actually manages to hurt you, that would be very valuable reference information.”
“Are you insane? She’s tangling with you too.”
Salaar cut another slice of roast. “How perfect! I can be your control sample.”
The silver knife parted the meat, and the cut surface slowly bled. The juices crept across the white porcelain, like a tiny pool of blood.
On the pale red sheen there was a reflection of a lapis-blue eye.
In the next second that eye, through the reflection, caught Myss’s gaze.
It curved slightly. That trace of a smile felt like a curse.
……
They had barely finished breakfast when Hailey came barreling into the inn. Though her nose was still swollen, her smile was dazzling.
“Both of you are here. Perfect. Yesterday Mr. Myss said you wanted to see the Summoning Ritual.”
Hailey tilted her nose up with a “go on, ask me” look.
Salaar played along. “Yes. What about it?”
“My uncle knows of a temporary job that would be perfect for Mr. Myss. If you two are willing, he would be happy to make the introduction.”
Hailey lowered her voice mysteriously. “That way you can not only watch the ritual up close, you can also make a little money.”
Talk about just the pillow he needed when he was about to snooze. Salaar was surprised. “What job is it?”
“Playing the ‘Pure Soul’ that symbolizes love and magic, and bestowing blessings on the children.”
Hailey spoke with longing. “The role has no gender requirement. The applicant only needs to be good-looking and gentle in temperament. Mr. Myss would absolutely be chosen.”
Salaar: “……”
Myss: “?”
The author has something to say:
A Demon Lord’s blessing.
How exciting, children! A one-of-a-kind in history.
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