NOVPUBJoo-Hyun offered to help with the meal preparations, but her offer was rejected.
“It would be best if you stayed here.”
“But I feel bad, just eating without doing anything...”
“If you’d like to keep the human race going, I suggest you sit still.”
“...Ah.”
“Exactly that.”
Iser nodded once and headed into the kitchen. Aria, who gently escorted the bewildered Joo-Hyun to the sofa, offered a light explanation.
“If it wasn’t prepared and handled directly by the teacher, it’s likely too dangerous for a human to consume.”
“What happens if I eat something that Gio didn’t prepare...?”
“You’d become one with this portrait. I doubt that’s what you want, gentleman.”
“Even just handling the ingredients—is that a problem too?”
“Unfortunately, your body is far too fragile for that kind of strain.”
Aria gave her a delicate smile.
“You seem eager to help somehow. How about setting the table, then?”
“...Yes, I suppose placing the utensils shouldn’t be an issue, right?”
“That level of contact won’t cause any mutation, so don’t worry.”
“Thank you for that... nourishing advice.”
“Think nothing of it.”
After a slight nod, Aria also disappeared into the kitchen.
Joo-Hyun let out a quiet sigh of relief. Whether it was pure coincidence or Gio’s deliberate care, she realized she had never eaten unprocessed ingredients while staying here.
‘Now that I think of it, even the drinks were always in the form of tea or juice.’
That could’ve turned out to be a dangerous situation.
‘I let my guard down because most dungeon-grown ingredients are safe for humans...’
Maybe it was because this dungeon belonged to a humanoid monster like “Black Cloak.” Joo-Hyun had judged it by the standards of ordinary dungeons.
Not knowing about Gio’s Origin or the nature of the garden made her vulnerable to such oversight.
It made sense though — dungeon-grown ingredients had become a valuable food source in modern times.
Cheaper than Earth-grown produce, they were widely embraced by the middle class. Joo-Hyun was no exception.
“Hey, gentleman.”
“Oh, yes?”
“Would you care to enjoy some tea with me while we wait for the meal?”
Aria emerged from the kitchen, lifting a teaware set on a tray.
“Gio’s made a new blend recently.”
“A new tea...?”
“It’s made from small flowers clustered like stars.”
“I’ve tried it before.”
Gio had once brought the flowers, saying he had grown them in “a waterbird’s nest.”
Joo-Hyun’s face brightened as she accepted the tray from Aria.
“It had a rich, nutty aroma.”
“The kitchen was far too busy, so I just brought it out.”
“I-Is that allowed...?”
“No one’s going to get mad about stolen food.”
“So you did steal it...”
There was something disconcerting about hearing a humanoid monster casually say she “stole” something.
Aria was a mermaid — a species sometimes considered a subspecies of humans.
That she even understood the concept of theft surprised Joo-Hyun anew.
‘Not that I should make a big deal out of it...’
Joo-Hyun placed the teaware on the table and began to steep the tea.
“Gio told me it’s a dried tea made from Basram flowers.”
“Basram flowers were cultivated in the world I was born in.”
“So it was a famous tea flower there?”
“Each blossom was worth its weight in gold.”
“...Gold was expensive there too, I assume?”
Joo-Hyun asked with an awkward laugh.
“Why was it so valuable?”
“It was incredibly difficult to cultivate.”
“How so?”
“These flowers choose who grows them.”
“They... choose their grower?”
“Yes.”
Aria smiled faintly.
“Only a few of the priests of the Sun were able to raise them properly.”
“A flower that only priests could cultivate... that does sound special.”
"Basram flowers were grown underwater, in the places where solar energy was strongest.”
“Underwater cultivation? Come to think of it, Gio said he grew them in a waterbird’s nest. That’s unusual.”
“There was a time when Basram flowers were grown in the deepest part of the Sun Temple...”
Aria trailed off before continuing.
“...That’s where they used to bloom.”
“In the deepest part of the Sun Temple?”
Joo-Hyun tried to picture it.
“What was the status of the Sun Church back then?”
“It was the dominant religion aboveground.”
“Then this Basram flower must’ve been truly rare.”
“It was treated as the supreme elixir blessed by the Sun.”
“......”
Joo-Hyun, mid-pour, paused.
“...An elixir?”
“Yes. The most highly revered elixir of the land.”
“So I’m currently brewing... an elixir as tea?”
“Why ask such obvious things?”
Aria gave a flawless smile.
“Everything you’ve eaten here probably fits that category.”
“...Oh...”
Drip.
Joo-Hyun finished pouring her tea.
“Now I feel awkward drinking it.”
“I doubt the teacher had any deep intentions. Just drink it.”
“To a mere human like me, that’s a terrifying thought.”
“Drinking it won’t shatter your identity as a human.”
“So... there might be small changes?”
“You’ll be very warm.”
“...Like ginseng?”
“Perhaps something close to that.”
Aria took a sip from her own cup.
“Though the effects will probably be much better.”
“...The aroma really is rich and pleasant.”
“Doesn’t it smell like well-roasted grains?”
The mermaid’s lips curved gently.
“Giovanni was the warmest of all the priests of the Sun.”
“......”
“The Basram flowers he raised were the sweetest and most fragrant in the world.”
“...Could it be that this is...?”
“They can no longer grow in my dungeon, unfortunately.”
Aria traced the rim of her teacup and continued.
“Before they’re harvested, even a slight chill will cause the Basram flowers to wilt. They can only grow if they’re constantly watched over by someone close to the Sun.”
“What a delicate flower.”
“My human teacher was the best priest at nurturing Basram flowers. The Sun Temple tried every way to bring him back and trap him there. He was essential to their elixir business.”
“...That’s more... worldly than I expected.”
“But Giovanni spent his time outside, healing and comforting people. The Temple must’ve been frantic. Many hated him for not obeying the Church’s orders.”
“Hm...”
Joo-Hyun sipped her tea and asked,
“Were there any priests who cultivated flowers privately?”
“Of course there were. Most of them just couldn’t do it well.”
“Was it that hard to grow?”
“Sunlight alone wasn’t enough.”
“Then what else was needed?”
“You had to love them.”
Aria gazed at the small floating blossoms in the transparent teapot, her tone almost doting.
“You had to truly love and care for them.”
“...That’s incredible.”
Joo-Hyun nodded slowly.
“And it took a lot of effort.”
“That’s what made them so hard to grow.”
Aria chuckled softly.
“Still, there were priests who tried to grow Basram flowers on their own. They lacked the full warmth of the Sun, and they couldn’t truly love a flower submerged in water... but even so, they managed to grow a little, little by little.”
“How was that possible?”
“Simple. They brought objects imbued with the Sun’s energy into the cultivation chamber. The more of those objects you gathered, the more the chamber would resemble the Sun Temple. Let’s see... like a sacred relic of the Sun. A saint’s remains, for example...”
“But even so, would that really fulfill the ‘love’ requirement?”
At Joo-Hyun’s question, Aria set her teacup down.
“It didn’t.”
“Then how...?”
“That’s why another method was necessary.”
“What method?”
“You place the priest’s corpse with the flowers.”
“......”
“The temple’s pond became a tomb for saints.”
Joo-Hyun blinked, then asked again.
“Wait—are you saying they used corpses like that?”
“They say it produced something close to love.”
“...Why would they...?”
“They must’ve decided that sacrificing one’s entire being as nourishment counted as devotion.”
Aria smiled.
“So Basram flowers were also called ‘corpse-eating flowers.’”
Rather than having a high-ranking priest with strong Sun energy raise them directly, it was far more cost-effective to use the corpses of priests with just enough of that energy.
“There was even a time when Sun priests’ bodies were secretly sold.”
“......”
“Of course, the flowers grown that way were inferior to those raised with genuine love.”
“Uh...”
“Still, even those produced through such means were highly effective.”
Aria continued, her tone as casual as ever.
“That’s how great the demand for the elixir was. A flower considered a divine relic, grown using priests’ remains, with value beyond mere symbolism — its actual effects were tremendous.”
“...Could you tell me exactly what effects it has?”
“They said it could bring the dead back to life — and there were cases close enough to be believed. It warms the body to its ideal temperature. The standard method was drying the flower under intense solar heat and powdering it to mix with water.”
“At that point, wouldn’t that just cause burns...?”
“If it did, it wouldn’t have been treated so preciously. It had no side effects. It simply kept the body at an ideal warmth, making people far less prone to illness.”
“......”
Joo-Hyun stared at the teacup in her hand. Then she looked at Aria again.
“...Am I really allowed to drink this?”
“You won’t die.”
“That’s kind of the problem.”
“Do you want to die?”
“Please don’t tempt me. I mean, I’d like to die as a human, at least.”
“There was a rumor that it extends one’s lifespan.”
“This flower?”
“Well, not as tea, but...”
“Oh...”
Joo-Hyun rolled her eyes, visibly thinking.
“Would drinking it as tea make the effect weaker?”
“Are you hoping the flowers dried by the Sun God are less effective?”
“...Wait, what?”
Joo-Hyun asked, startled.
“The Sun God?”
“Oh dear, didn’t you know?”
“Giovanni is...?”
“Do you see that gentlemanly teddy bear waving from the kitchen?”
“...Ah.”
From within the kitchen, a teddy bear waved a paw — apparently helping with the cooking.
“Yes, that’s his father.”
“...You mean—”
“The previous Sun God.”
“Excuse me?”
“Gio inherited his divinity.”
“......”
As Joo-Hyun paled, Aria smiled faintly.
“Isn’t it lovely? To have the Sun God as your friend. What greater honor could there be?”
“It is certainly an honor, but no — I mean — still, this is...”
Joo-Hyun wore a troubled expression.
“It’s a bit much, honestly.”
“Your friend? Or the tea?”
“How am I supposed to repay this...?”
“You’re thinking of repaying a divine gift?”
“Well, that’s one way to [N O V E L I G H T] look at it...”
Flustered by her own thoughts, Joo-Hyun’s face flushed with embarrassment.
“I can’t just keep taking...”
“......”
Aria’s smile faded, and she let out something close to a sigh.
“...You remind me a little of my foolish brother.”
“Me?”
“Yes, just a little.”
Aria smiled softly again.
“If only my brother had received divine grace during better times, like you have...”
There was something deeply layered in that statement — something Joo-Hyun couldn’t even begin to grasp.
“Then he wouldn’t have become a monster, but a priest of peace.”
“...Do you regret it?”
“As you probably know already, someone who regrets... can’t be a monster.”
“That’s true.”
A dream, an attachment, a daily life — anyone who still had such things couldn’t become a monster. Joo-Hyun knew that better than most.
“......”
And so she could already sense how this story between the mermaids would end.
***
Dinner was lamb skewers.
“...Lamb skewers?”
“Do you dislike them?”
“No, not at all.”
Looking at the meat skewers perfectly marinated, Joo-Hyun smiled awkwardly.
“This is golden lamb meat, isn’t it?”
“You remember well.”
Gio beamed.
“Seems you enjoyed the lamb chops last time.”
“W-Well, I did. I really did, but...”
“Is there a problem? I can adjust things if needed.”
“......”
Eventually, Joo-Hyun gave in.
“No, it looks delicious.”
“Of course it does. I made it.”
“Haha...”
I really need to move out.
‘Live independently. Eat like a normal person again.’
As long as Dana was still wary of him, this was her last chance.
Joo-Hyun made up her mind — she would get a home on Earth again.
An unexpectedly surreal method of trauma recovery.
