Chapter 17 …
Offering Recipe
âLay him down neatly over there.â
Abel hoisted the Black Sword Guild leader off his shoulder and placed him onto the altar at the end of the basement.
The man was so tall that his feet stuck awkwardly over the edge, which offended my eyes, so I bent his knees slightly. That made him look much more presentable.
âMmph⌠MmghâŚâ
Had he realized what was about to happen?
The battered thief groaned and began squirming.
That was unacceptable.
âPlease keep quiet. An offering shouldnât be making that much noise, should it?â
âMmph!â
âAbel.â
âYes.â
Thud!
Quick to catch on, Abel immediately drove his fist into the guild leaderâs stomach.
A punch carrying enough force to rival that of a grown man.
Normally, the thief wouldâve endured it without issue, but after Rosalia had thoroughly beaten him, he rolled his eyes back from a single blow.
Thud!
âHeâs already quiet now. Thereâs no need to hit him again.â
âI know.â
Only after giving him another punch square in the chest did Abel step back in satisfaction.
âKar, should I carve him up for you?â
Marlin cautiously asked while drawing the ritual dagger Iâd given her.
âThereâs no need to remove his head today. This offering isnât for Lord Lidni.â
[Lidni is trembling with indignation!]
[I, the Eyes That Perceive the Truth, hereby officially declare my disappointment in you as well.]
Iâd even spent quite a while faithfully carrying out my religious duties at the library precisely because I expected this, yet they still seemed sulky.
It was unfortunate, but there was no need to make excuses.
Thanks to the trait [True Believer], unless I openly declared apostasy by announcing Iâd become a priest of a benevolent god, theyâd forgive me no matter what I did.
âIâll prepare a real feast for you next time, so please donât be upset.â
After casually placating them, I placed a hand on Abelâs shoulder just as he was about to punch the guild leader in the stomach again.
âAre you ready?â
âYes. There were new supplies prepared in the mansion.â
Abel took out a notebook and a pen.
On the notebookâs cover, heâd carefully written exactly what Iâd instructed him.
[Offering Recipes for the Evil Gods]
âRecord every step of the preparation in as much detail as you can.â
The tastes of the evil gods were incredibly finicky.
Despite having utterly fallen from glory after the Great Holy War, they remained absurdly picky about both the quantity and quality of offerings, giving countless cultists endless headaches.
That was why I intended to write an offering cookbook, compiling every ingredient and preparation method favored by the gods we served.
Once completed, it should greatly improve the treatment of our fellow worshippers of the fallen evil gods.
âMarlin, cut the ropes first.â
âWonât he go on a rampage?â
âThe assassin already softened him up before sending him over, so heâs completely exhausted.
ââŚItâs fine this time since heâs the guild leader, but please stop treating people like ingredients.â
Marlin walked over to the altar and cut apart the ropes binding the Black Sword Guild leader from head to toe.
Once she untied the cloth gagging his mouth as well, the thief quietly stared at the siblings with calm eyes.
âMarlin. Abel. You havenât forgotten, have you? If I hadnât helped you, both of you wouldâve starved to death on the streets.â
ââŚâŚâ
The siblingsâ faces darkened instantly.
âI sincerely taught you skills so you could make a living. I even accepted you into my guild. I treasured you like my own younger siblings. And yet, just like always, youâve disappointed me by pulling another foolish stunt.â
A textbook example of gaslighting.
Heâd probably spent years piling psychological burdens onto the siblings with similarly subtle manipulation.
I briefly considered tearing out his tongue to stop him from talking, even if it lowered the quality of the offering.
But I changed my mind.
The hesitation in the siblingsâ eyes was steadily disappearing.
âBy now, my guild members are surely searching for me. Come back before itâs too late.â
Marlin and Abel exchanged glances before replying simultaneously.
âGet lost.â
âNo.â
Their voices carried unwavering resolve.
I couldnât help nodding with satisfaction.
âWell done.â
I patted each of them on the shoulder before crouching down to meet the Black Sword Guild leaderâs gaze.
He glared at me, grinding his teeth.
âYou bastard⌠Youâd better untie me immediately. Do you know which guilds Iâm connected to?â
âRed Star Guild, Hyena Guild, Thousand Gold Coin Guild, Lamb Guild, Crimson Castle Guild, Any others?â
ââŚâŚâ
They were all infamous underworld guilds.
Yet they didnât seem threatening in the slightest.
âDid you know something?â
I slowly wiped the sticky blood from the guild leaderâs forehead with my index finger, curling the corners of my lips upward.
âMaken, leader of the Black Sword Guild. The assassin who beat you senseless and brought you here belongs to the Brites family. She even serves as the youngest masterâs personal attendant.â
ââŚâŚ!â
Realizing where I was going with this, Makenâs eyes widened.
âCongratulations. The Black Sword Guild you founded is about to become one of the most prominent thief guilds in all of Pletica.â
You just wonât be part of it.
ââŚDamn you!â
âHow dare you use such vulgar language?â
With a flick of my hand, Abel punched Maken square in the solar plexus, as if heâd been waiting for permission.
The thief lost consciousness instantly.
âMarlin.â
It was time to prepare the ingredients for the ritual.
âStrip him first.â
ââŚHuh?â
Marlin looked at me with obvious reluctance.
âWhy do we have to take off his clothesâŚ?â
âBecause the Exalted One wishes to admire him.â
The Black Sword Guild leader possessed looks that stood in stark contrast to his rotten personality.
His face was fairly handsome.
His physique, too, was lean and well-toned, as though heâd worked hard to maintain it.
Crackle!
The black lightning emblem engraved near my collarbone reacted.
It meant he was exactly the type of offering its owner preferred.
âFirst⌠strip him nakedâŚâ
Unlike his sister, Abel dutifully wrote everything into his notebook without questioning it.
Marlin stared at him in disbelief before tearing Makenâs clothes to shreds.
Without so much as asking for his consent, sheâd turned him into a nude model.
The unconscious Maken simply hung limply in place.
ââŚKar. Is this enough?â
Avoiding the naked body that probably wasnât good for a teenagerâs emotional development, Marlin asked.
âThis is only the beginning. Could you pull him down off the altar for a moment?â
We laid the guild leader on the floor before covering the empty altar with the mana stones weâd collected from the Fire-Eyed Ant Nest.
Selling those wouldâve earned us a decent sum.
But weâd soon receive a hefty payment for revealing the Hidden Piece anyway, so there was no need to be stingy.
âDone. Put him back.â
We placed the offering back atop the mana stones.
This was the important part.
I stepped back to examine the composition from afar before personally adjusting Makenâs pose.
Resting his chin against the floor.
Reclining casually.
He now resembled a mythical figure straight out of a medieval religious painting.
âFinished now?â
âNot yet⌠Could you lightly scratch the back of my hand?â
I let a few drops of my blood fall between Maken and the pile of mana stones.
The trick was to add only a small amount so the balance of flavor wouldnât be ruined.
âFinished.â
The preparation of the offering was complete.
The recipeâs name was Beautiful Cornerstone.
A custom-made offering for the Lord of the Defiled Skies, who delighted in consuming handsome men raw.
By laying mana stones beneath the sacrifice, stones that burst with mana when chewed, I aimed to create a hearty dish whose flavor wouldnât become tiresome no matter how much was consumed.
Furthermore, Lord Sueâje loved all beautiful people regardless of gender, so I deliberately chose gender-neutral terminology as well.
âAbel. Did you write everything down?â
âI recorded it all. I also included my own suggestions for improvement.â
âExcellent.â
ââŚIs this really something excellent?â
âMarlin, take your brother and step back.â
Once the siblings had retreated, I placed a hand on Makenâs waist.
âTo the One who twists the earth with pitch-black thunderbolts, and bestows dark dignity and authority⌠your meal has been prepared.â
Normally, the prayer continued for much longer.
I skipped all of it and concluded simply.
âLord Sueâje. Your meal is ready.â
The instant I finished speaking, black lightning burst from the tattoo near my collarbone.
Like a living creature, it writhed violently before crawling down my arm into the offering.
Crackle!
The Black Sword Guild leader and the mana stones were swallowed whole.
Menacing black lightning exploded in every direction, greedily devouring the offering prepared for the Loftiest One.
For safetyâs sake, I pushed the siblings even farther back.
Then my entire body began tingling.
ăAhahaha! Pretty one, thank you!ă
Apparently, the offering had pleased him.
His voice brimmed with laughter.
Thanks to that, I was once again being reborn into a deliciously roasted electric cultist.
Utilizing [Black Lightning Bloom], the basic Mystery granted to cultists of the Defiled Skies, I absorbed and contained the lightning, barely managing to endure it.
âLord Sueâje⌠Isnât this a little too stimulating?â
ăSorry! I got too excited and forgot to be considerate.ă
Eventually, the wildly crackling lightning that had consumed the offering quieted before flowing back into the tattoo on my collarbone.
The altar was now completely spotless.
ăHaah! Itâs been ages since Iâve received such a satisfying offering!ă
ăDidnât you just become one of my cultists?ă
ăYouâre not secretly a monitoring priest sent by the Harmony Church, are you?ă
âNo. Iâm simply a genius cultist.â
ăOh, you adorable thing!ă
âIâm glad you enjoyed the meal. Iâll prepare another one next time. Was there anything you found lacking?â
ăThe human looked pretty decentâŚă
ăBut next time, bring me someone even more handsome and well-groomed!ă
âUnderstood. From now on, Iâll procure living sacrifices with cleaner appearances.â
Glancing behind me, I saw Abel diligently writing down every word while nodding.
ăMy pretty one, what do you want?ă
ăActually, forget it⌠Iâll give you everything!ă
If I had greedily accepted right then, thanking him enthusiastically⌠I might literally turn into a humanoid bolt of lightning.
Iâd be classified the same as a monster and suddenly become a target for extermination.
Sueâje wouldnât mean any harm.
From his perspective, heâd merely be showering his beloved cultist with blessings.
So I politely declined.
âThank you for your generosity. However, though my body is small and precious, itâs still far too frail to fully receive your grace.â
ăAhâŚă
ăYour proportions are magnificent, but your physical training is pitiful indeed.ă
Unlike a certain god obsessed with knowledge, Sueâje possessed a surprisingly rational personality.
He accepted my explanation immediately.
ăThen is there anything else you want?ă
ăWould you like a magnificent portrait of me smiling?ă
ăOr perhaps another Mystery?ă
âWould it be possible⌠To receive a Second-Tier Mystery?â
Mysteries granted through sacrificial rituals were normally limited to those no higher than the cultistâs own level.
However⌠There were exceptions.
âWouldnât an offering like the one I just prepared qualify as a special feast?â
A special feast.
If one presented an offering that perfectly matched an evil godâs tastes and completely satisfied them, it became possible to receive Mysteries above oneâs own level.
Granting Mysteries consumed the faith flowing up from the mortal world, making such generosity a burden for the evil gods, whose believers were pitifully few.
Still, once thoroughly pleased, they didnât mind treating their followers lavishly.
ăThat really was an exceptionally delightful meal.ă
ăVery well, pretty one.ă
ăIâll grant you a Second-Tier Mystery.ă
ăDo you already have one in mind?ă
âYes.â
I pulled up my shirt, revealing the seed protruding from my solar plexus.
A tiny sprout had already grown from it.






