Chapter 15
Chapter 15
“Bwaaawk?! (My baby?!)”
“Yeah. Just give me one.”
The egg thief, appearing in broad daylight, was shameless beyond belief. Clutching her only egg even tighter to her body, Ringo hastily backed away in protest.
“Bwaaawk! Bwak bwak bwaaawk! Bwak bwaaawk! (No way! I just laid it today! It’s already fertilized!)”
But Isabella, completely unfazed, was not one to be swayed by emotion.
“That’s perfect. It means it’s super fresh. Fertilized eggs are more nutritious too, you know.”
“Bwak! Bwaaawk bwak! (No! Absolutely not this time!)”
“That’s a problem. If I can’t make an egg dish, I guess I’ll have to cook chicken instead…”
Isabella let her voice trail off, eyeing the plump, well-fed Ringo from head to toe.
“…I mean, I can’t very well take you instead, can I?”
“Bwawk! (Gasp!)”
Startled by the implied threat, Ringo flailed her wings and cried out in desperation.
“Bwaaawk bwaak bwak! (Waaah! Master, that’s so cruel!)”
“…”
Isabella scratched her head wordlessly at the scene. She’d always used Ringo’s eggs exclusively in her cooking, so this wasn’t the first time she’d taken one. Naturally, she felt no hesitation in asking. But the way Ringo was bawling her eyes out this time so pitifully gave her a pang of guilt she hadn’t expected.
Still, she needed an egg urgently, and there was no easy solution. Sure, she could get an egg from another cockatrice. But Ringo’s eggs were in a league of their own.
Because of their magical contract, Ringo constantly received a steady stream of Isabella’s high-quality mana, resulting in eggs with unmatched nutritional value. They also had powerful magical and healing properties.
Ironically, one of Isabella’s conditions when forming their contract had been a steady supply of fresh eggs, making this entire situation all the more ridiculous.
“Bwak bwak bwaaawk! (It’s my fourteenth chick! I was finally going to hatch and raise it strong!)”
Watching Ringo continue to flap her wings and sob without pause, Isabella finally made up her mind.
‘Looks like there’s only one way…’
As Ringo’s master, Isabella knew every detail about her magical creatures: their personalities, their quirks, their weaknesses. She knew exactly how to handle Ringo.
Clap! Clap!
She clapped her hands, drawing Ringo’s teary, panicked gaze. Then, she spoke firmly, offering a deal.
“I’ll give you a worm.”
Instantly, mid-squawk and with her wings still half-spread, Ringo froze.
Clearly tempted, Ringo’s eyes darted about in visible inner conflict. Not giving her time to think twice, Isabella pressed on.
Stepping forward, she added, “Not just any worm—a giant worm.”
“Bwa-bwaaawk?! (A g-giant worm?!)”
“Yep. A hundred-year-old one, no less.”
“BWAAAWK?! (A hundred years old?!)”
With each added condition, Ringo’s eyes grew rounder and rounder, until they looked ready to pop out. Soon, drool started dripping from her beak. Isabella, now certain she had won, asked again.
“So? Is that a no?”
Ringo looked between the egg in her wings and Isabella’s face, then finally, with great reluctance, pushed the egg toward her with her beak.
“Cluuuuck. (Now that I think about it, maybe it wasn’t fully fertilized after all.)”
Isabella nearly laughed at how quickly Ringo changed her tune from hysterical sobs to compliance, just like that.
‘Same old Ringo…’
From the very beginning, Ringo had shown an exceptionally materialistic streak. Her willingness to switch sides at the drop of a hat hadn’t changed one bit. Still, Isabella was simply glad to have gotten the egg.
“Alright, I’m off. Thanks for the egg!”
With a snap of her fingers, Isabella summoned a massive, earthworm-like creature that dropped right onto Ringo’s head. Ringo, overjoyed, pinned the wriggling giant worm beneath her sharp talons, spread her wings wide, and beamed.
“Cluuck! Clu-cluuuuck! (Wow! Come again anytime!)
Her chipper voice was clearly full of delight at the generous reward.
Isabella hefted the egg, nearly as large as her torso, with a grunt and made her way back to the mansion. She headed straight for the kitchen.
Thud!
“Ugh, so heavy. Thought I was gonna die.”
She set the hefty cockatrice egg on the counter and wiped the sweat from her brow. Then she turned and jumped in fright.
“Aah!”
Standing right next to her was the chef. A vampire. From his sharp fangs, crimson liquid dripped in thick drops.
Clutching her neck protectively, Isabella gasped.
“Vlad! Don’t tell me you lost control! You can’t drink my blood! I’m already severely anemic as it is!”
The vampire, Vlad, looked utterly wronged as he explained.
“I haven’t drunk any! I was just taste-testing my new batch of concentrated cherry juice!”
“Cherry juice?”
Now noticing the glass of cherry juice with ice in his hand, Isabella let out an awkward laugh.
“Hah… It was just so red. I thought it was blood. Sorry, Vlad.”
Vlad delicately dabbed the juice from his fangs with a linen napkin and responded coolly.
“Please stop mistaking it for blood. Comparing iron-tasting, flavorless blood to cherry juice is an insult to cherry juice itself.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re so weird.”
Vlad had moved into the mansion with the noble goal of studying every delicacy the world had to offer. Though he claimed to be a gourmet and refused to drink blood, his cooking skills, honed over generations as the mansion’s head chef, were unmatched.
And right now, Isabella desperately needed those skills. Tapping the egg gently, she got straight to the point.
“Anyway, Vlad. I need your help.”
Vlad, examining the egg, raised an eyebrow.
“This is Ringo’s egg, isn’t it? She’s been fiercely protective lately, trying to produce an heir. How did you manage to get one?”
“Bribed her with a giant worm.”
Vlad shook his head as if the entire situation made perfect sense.
“You spoil her. What’ll you do if she gets used to it?”
“I had no choice. It was urgent.”
“Sigh… So what are you planning to make with it? Don’t tell me it’s for that human?”
Having lived a long life, Vlad quickly deduced her intention. Isabella nodded.
“Yeah. Egg soup… No, I mean, egg drop soup.”
“Egg drop soup? What’s that?”
“You’ll see. Just assist me like always.”
“Fine, understood.”
With Vlad now on board, Isabella placed her hands on her hips and declared with gusto:
“Alright! First, let’s crack this thing open!”
Given her small stature, she pulled over a step stool. Then, gripping the nail and hammer Vlad provided, she brought them down with all her might.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The cockatrice egg, tougher than even an ostrich egg, echoed with thunderous cracks that rang throughout the mansion. With Vlad’s help, the rest of the cooking process—preparing the broth, chopping vegetables, and stirring in the egg—went relatively smoothly.
Except for the occasional singed strand of hair.
“Ack! My sideburns are burning!”
Still, she managed to complete her very first dish: a clear, golden egg soup. Placing it on a tray, she headed straight for the boy’s room.
Knock, knock.
“Fairy, I brought your lunch!”
Refusing help from Baal or the skeletons, Isabella insisted on delivering the food herself. She placed the tray on the bedside table and eagerly awaited his reaction.
“I told you. I don’t need it.”
The boy scowled as he glanced at the soup, then at her, and pushed the tray away. But Isabella didn’t back down. She scooped a spoonful and offered it to him.
“Just try one bite. I promise it tastes good. It’s lightly seasoned, easy to swallow, and might bring your appetite back. Please?”
Determined to help him recover, her eyes sparkled with sincerity. Yet her persistence only seemed to irritate him further.
His gaze grew colder as he growled, “Stop interfering with—”
But Isabella cut him off before he could finish.
“I made it with you in mind. I worked really hard on it.”
For just a moment, barely a blink, the boy’s frosty eyes wavered. Seizing that sliver of hope, Isabella held out the spoon again, gently urging him.
“I know I’m annoying and you hate this, but if you really want to return to your homeland, you need to eat. Whether you’re a human or a monster, you need strength to recover.”
“…Fine. Hand it over. I’ll eat it myself.”
Was it her desperation that moved him?
With a deep sigh, the boy took the spoon and brought the soup to his lips. Hope flickered in Isabella’s eyes.
“Well? It’s better than you expected, right?”
“…It’s awful.”
His blunt reply hit her like a hammer to the head. But the blow quickly faded because despite his words, he finished the entire bowl.
“Hehe.”
Beaming like a fool at the empty bowl, Isabella grinned. The boy scowled, clearly annoyed by her expression.
“Get out. Or better yet, release me.”
“Nope. Not until you finish all ten bowls.”
Food was food, but escape was another matter. Isabella remained firm as she gathered the empty dishes and turned to leave. Then the boy mumbled softly behind her.
“…Your hair…”
“Huh?”
“…Never mind.”
He turned away, facing the wall, never finishing his thought.
Isabella tilted her head in confusion, but the sight of the empty bowl made her smile all over again as she cheerfully left the room.
……
T/N: Ringo was quickly swayed with a worm hahahaha what about your heir, Ringo? Hahahahha 🤣
