Patunasankus silently put down the vegetable soup in her hand, turning her head to the side, clearly showing refusal.
At that moment, Loranhir tasted a despair like limbs going numb and vision turning pitch black, slumping down as if her entire being had been negated.
That's a bit of an exaggeration. She hadn't expected the princess to actually eat it, not at all.
To this, Patunasankus merely shook her head, appearing unmoved.
Who feeds vegetables to an evil dragon?
"Common home cooking doesn't suit your taste?" Loranhir stood up, her tone somewhat downcast. "I'll check the map to find nearby settlements. It's also time to find an attendant to take care of Princess's daily needs. You can't keep living with a rough person like me."
Patunasankus looked at Loranhir's somewhat defeated face with confusion.
Why did her mood suddenly turn bad?
It must be due to a long-term vegetarian diet.
Honestly, it was already quite good that she hadn't unleashed a mouthful of dragon fire.
There had been reckless monster servants who brought even worse dishes to Patunasankus before. The tyrannical evil dragon would naturally use dragon fire to teach them how to cook properly, with more than enough heat.
But Patunasankus had never killed a servant for this.
At such times, Princess Latifa would always reach out her hand.
The girl would gently stroke the evil dragon's scales, like a light breeze passing by.
Until this stubborn evil dragon would snort lightly, turning her head to extinguish the ready dragon fire, like the plaster mold wrapped around jewelry breaking apart.
At these moments, the girl's heart would sing. These moments belonged to her alone.
After receiving the evil dragon's tacit permission, the girl would patiently taste the barely edible dishes, bit by bit. She would call the trembling monster servants to her side, explaining tirelessly, again and again, where improvements could be made. Then, when the monster servants produced slightly improved dishes the next time, she would taste them again, offering suggestions for improvement, until the food became palatable...
Patunasankus didn't know why Latifa would do this, or what the purpose was. She just found it bewildering.
Patunasankus looked down at the soup in her hand, then at Loranhir who was preparing to go search for a map. The spoon circled around the surface of the soup.
Patunasankus didn't know how to react for a moment. Her mind was filled with images of Latifa, as if she could imagine her standing in the afternoon sun, her hair dancing in the wind, her dress wrapping around her long, lovely legs like gentle snowflakes.
"Meat," she suddenly said.
"?" Loranhir stopped her movements and looked back.
"It must have lots of meat, otherwise it won't do," the evil dragon tasted the stew, deliberately repeating herself. "Without meat, I don't like to eat it."
"...It needs, it needs lots of meat?" Loranhir perked up again. "Wait for me, I'll make a new batch right away."
Patunasankus shook her head as she watched Loranhir's retreating figure.
She felt utterly bewildered.
But before Patunasankus could figure out why she had acted this way, she heard the clattering sound of wheels crushing gravel on the road.
A caravan came from the other side of the fork in the road, stopping under a withered tree not far away.
A group of armed guards surrounding a middle-aged man jumped down from the carriage. They looked around, carefully verifying the surrounding safety before approaching Patunasankus.
"Young lady, do you know what caused such a commotion around here? The sky looked like it was burning. I've never seen anything like it in my life."
The middle-aged man recalled the earlier scene with fear. They had been eating bread and traveling along just fine when suddenly a small sun rose at the horizon. Their pack horses were so frightened their legs went weak, refusing to move, and it took a while before they could barely continue their journey.
Even now, the flames on the plain had not completely died out, emitting smoke. Some burned structures had carbonized into black, occasionally collapsing with a plop sound. The smell of burning was everywhere in the air.
"She did it," Patunasankus pointed without hesitation at Loranhir, who was running back with armfuls of ingredients.
"?" Loranhir was suddenly pointed at, looking completely confused.
Until she spotted several fierce-looking armed guards.
Then a heartbeat like war drums resounded in the night.
Thump-thump! Thump-thump-thump!
"A girl capable of causing such destruction?... Wait! Pink hair, heart beating like war drums—a hero? The great Hero is actually here!"
The middle-aged man leading the group seemed knowledgeable, immediately recognizing Loranhir, his tone extremely excited.
"Such a disturbance could only be from your great power, Hero."
"How fortunate! I never expected to meet the great Hero here. You must be here for the ferocious beast of Silver City? I didn't expect news of Lady Duchess's call for talented individuals would reach your ears so quickly."
"...No, I'm not interested in this matter. I'm just passing through." Hearing something that sounded potentially very dangerous, Loranhir hastily declined. She didn't want to drag the princess into any more trouble.
"I understand, great Hero, I certainly know what to do," the middle-aged man just kept nodding. "I will safely place fifty beautifully patterned silver galleons in your pocket."
"When you reach Silver City, you can ask Duchess Pascal. I am acting on her orders."
"What are you thinking? I'm not interested in this matter."
"To be honest, I don't fully understand either. Many times, our hands don't belong to ourselves; they just happen to be attached to our bodies. The Duchess told me that when you encounter difficulties and your family isn't by your side, if you take out gold coins, the other person will become your family."
"Don't be like this, sir. I am a person of principle," Loranhir shook her head in denial, lowering her gaze to look at the man's outstretched hand. "Your gold isn't enough."
Just as Loranhir was about to dispatch the man and slip away, Patunasankus quietly moved closer to her ear, whispering something.
The middle-aged man examined the girl before him, suddenly feeling a sense of familiarity. Initially, he had just assumed the girl was born to a noble family, a young lady who had run away to travel, so he hadn't paid much attention.
Until he looked more carefully, suddenly realizing her identity.
"...Princess?!"