In the past, I had painstakingly accumulated a vast amount of knowledge and experience, all in preparation for working at a maid cafe.
I mastered countless culinary techniques, refining them into my own unique style; I delved into pharmacology, acquiring a pharmacist’s license; and I even learned 31 languages, aspiring to become a multinational maid.
While briefly studying cooking in China, I chanced upon a martial arts master who had reached the pinnacle of Hwagyeong (TL Note: A state of enlightenment or mastery in martial arts, often associated with transcending physical limitations), operating in the underworld, and ended up serving them a meal.
As a result of their gratitude, I learned the whereabouts of China’s greatest retired acupuncturist.
Subsequently, various underworld organizations targeted me, leading to conflicts, simply because I was known as the acupuncturist’s disciple.
However, my friend swept through all those organizations, ending the strife within a mere week.
During that time, I acquired secret culinary recipes from those organizations, and was even contacted by a clandestine organization that, until then, I believed only existed as an internet rumor.
These are rather unimportant stories, largely unrelated to my maid work, so I won’t delve into the specifics.
Nevertheless, through countless experiences before becoming a maid, I managed to acquire a multitude of skills.
Yet, despite acquiring an uncountable number of talents, if asked about my greatest skill, I would always give the same answer.
‘Cooking,’ of course.
****
“A lie…!”
Chef Taspa von Regon, who was in charge of Haas’s restaurant, gazed at the beef stew placed before her, her mind vehemently denying all reality.
She simply couldn’t believe that her ten years of culinary experience had been utterly trampled by a young girl who looked barely fifteen.
“If you find it hard to believe, perhaps you should taste it yourself.”
“Tch…! I was already going to, even without you telling me…!”
Unwilling to concede defeat to this mere girl, Taspa reluctantly tasted the stew herself.
“Haaah…!”
And then, a new world unfolded within Taspa’s mouth.
The explosive flavor of the beef stew surpassed her palate, seemingly spreading throughout her entire body.
Feeling a sensation so intense it felt as though her very clothes were bursting from her body, Taspa collapsed onto the spot.
“Hngh… Haaah…♡”
Her entire body trembled with a gastronomic pleasure she had never before experienced, and her expression, lost in ecstasy, was utterly beyond her control.
“Do you still refuse to acknowledge my victory?”
Taspa, who was shedding tears of ecstasy, looked up through her blurred vision at the maid-clad girl approaching her.
As Lysium (TL Note: Changed ‘리시움’ to Lysium for better flow and common fantasy naming convention) was situated at the heart of the continent, it was a place where cultures from across the world met and harmonized.
Consequently, chefs from all over the continent converged on Lysium, and conflicts arose among them over the question of which nation’s chef was truly the best.
To quell these disputes, a unique tradition emerged among Lysium’s chefs.
The Sacred Culinary War.
The Seongshikjeon (TL Note: A formal culinary contest, literally ‘Sacred Food Battle’).
A culinary showdown where all competitors faced equal conditions.
The Seongshikjeon, with its long history, remained a sacred duel passed down among Lysium’s elite chefs to this very day.
And now, Taspa, in a Seongshikjeon against an intruder who had suddenly invaded her sanctuary, had suffered a complete and utter defeat.
The beef stew created by that maid-clad intruder had shattered every ounce of effort and pride Taspa had built over ten years.
“I… I admit my defeat…”
Were the tears streaming from her eyes now tears of ecstasy from the beef stew, or tears of despair and humiliation?
The loser of a Seongshikjeon had to surrender anything the victor desired, save for their life.
Though this tradition had gradually softened with the passage of time, Taspa, overflowing with pride as a chef, always insisted that this was the true Seongshikjeon, conducting it according to its original rules.
Naturally, the Seongshikjeon held this time was also conducted under the original rules, not the modified ones that had evolved with the times.
Taspa had never even imagined losing, but now, by the original rules, she had to grant any demand made by the intruder.
‘To cut off my fingers, to offer my liver—those would be acceptable.
But, but not my chef’s knife, which is like my very soul…!’
For a chef, their knife is akin to their very soul.
There was a famous anecdote of a chef who, after losing a Seongshikjeon and having their knife confiscated, descended into becoming a dark chef—a testament to how chefs viewed their knives as soulmates and their greatest partners.
Thus, while Taspa resigned herself to accepting the Seongshikjeon’s penalty, she could only pray that the intruder would not reach for her precious partner.
“I desire but one thing.”
Was this how a condemned prisoner felt before the guillotine?
To Taspa, the pristine white girl approaching her appeared nothing less than a dark grim reaper wielding a scythe.
‘Ah, so this is how my soul as a chef meets its end.’
As Taspa quietly closed her eyes, awaiting her fate, she realized the lingering flavor of the beef stew still swirled in her mouth.
‘Ha, what an utterly absurd dish.’
Though it was the grim reaper’s meal, serving her death, there could be no greater ‘Last Supper’ to consume in this life.
Only then could Taspa accept the entire situation.
For a chef’s soul to perish at the hands of one who could create such a dish was by no means a humiliation.
Rather, it was almost an honor, and thus Taspa could find satisfaction in her defeat.
“The authority to use this kitchen as I please, whenever I wish.
That is what I desire.”
“What?”
“What did you say…?”
“Really? Is that truly all?”
This place had once been Taspa’s sanctuary.
A sacred space where no unauthorized person dared to set foot, a sanctuary over which Taspa reigned supreme.
But this white-clad girl had shot an arrow named ‘beef stew’ into the sky, sending Taspa, who had reigned supremely above the clouds, plummeting to the ground.
From that very moment, this kitchen had already transformed into the girl’s sanctuary.
Therefore, Taspa didn’t see this as the price of losing the Seongshikjeon.
Just as it was logical for a nation’s land to fall into the hands of its conqueror when it collapsed, this kitchen was merely a byproduct that came with the girl’s victory.
Yet, the girl was merely requesting the right to use this kitchen.
“Yes.
Simply allowing me to use this kitchen will be sufficient.”
As the girl finished speaking, the word ‘hope’ began to re-engrave itself in Taspa’s eyes, eyes that had abandoned all.
For, interpreted differently, the girl’s words meant, ‘I will not demand any compensation, and I will still acknowledge this kitchen as Taspa’s sanctuary.’
The white-clad girl had suddenly invaded her sanctuary and taken everything.
But now, in Taspa’s eyes, she was no longer an intruder.
The white-clad girl, no, the white saintess, was not a grim reaper who had invaded this kitchen.
She was a grateful benefactor who had stripped away the shell of Taspa’s arrogance as a chef, allowing her to be reborn as a chef and as a human being.
“Then, I will return later for dinner preparations.”
“Yes, understood.
My esteemed mentor.”
Though she was a girl much younger than herself, what did age matter when it came to learning and teaching?
This girl, who had brought her enlightenment and helped her ascend a step as a human, was nothing short of a mentor to Taspa.
****
While cooking was my best skill, I had another favorite hobby.
Cleaning—wiping dirty floors, polishing windows until they were transparent, letting the sunlight warmly fill the room—that was truly my favorite specialty.
I retrieved the broom I had placed in Bokja’s mouth.
Now, the restaurant was already in my hands.
Therefore, it was time for cleaning.
****
Within Aegis (TL Note: Changed ‘아이기스’ to Aegis for better flow and common fantasy naming convention), there existed student organizations known as ‘clubs’.
In modern times, many people might associate ‘clubs’ with places of desire where people rub against each other, dancing vigorously and releasing their carnal urges.
However, the original meaning of ‘club’ simply referred to a social gathering.
The developers of Destiny held a peculiar belief: they found it natural for academy students to wear modern uniforms in the early modern period, when railways were just emerging and the world was transitioning from medieval to modern times.
They also believed it was more fitting to call student groups ‘clubs’ rather than ‘societies’ in a Western setting.
Therefore, in Aegis, a ‘club’ did not refer to the wild places of sweat and carnal desire one might typically imagine, but simply to an extracurricular activity or a hobby group.
And here, operating secretly in the shadows of Aegis, was such a club.
Commonly known as the ‘Darkthorn Club,’ or ‘Aegis’s Phantom.’
It was an underworld organization within Aegis, founded by Deed de Sabbath, the third son of a federal assassin family.
Their existence was generally perceived by students as a mere rumor, yet Darkthorn was a very real organization, operating from a secret room located in Haas’s basement.
Only a select few knew of their existence.
Moreover, thanks to their exquisite tightrope walk, never crossing the ‘line’ regardless of the commission they accepted, there was no justification to punish Darkthorn even if their identities were revealed.
They were, quite literally, a sharp thorn existing within the shadows of the students.
That was Darkthorn.
“Kuaaaah…!”
But what was this sight before them now?
Kebes Rukava (TL Note: Changed ‘케베스 루카바’ to Kebes Rukava for better flow), a new recruit who had recently joined Darkthorn, couldn’t help but doubt his eyes at the unbelievable scene unfolding before him.
“Ugh…”
“Oh…”
“My, you’re still a minor, yet you’re bringing in lewd magazines.
These are confiscated.”
The secret corridor located in Haas’s basement.
Hidden within that secret corridor was the Darkthorn Club’s hideout.
The members of Darkthorn were briefing on a mission in their hideout as usual.
As they were fervently debating how to deal with their target, a maid-clad girl, whom none of them recognized, suddenly appeared.
This was a place that no one unrelated to them could possibly know.
So how had this girl found her way in?
– “Hey, I don’t know how you got in, but don’t expect to leave unscathed, alright?”
The Darkthorn Club had several rules.
Deed, the club leader, called them the ‘Thorn Creed’ and strictly commanded his members to follow them.
One such rule was: ‘If anyone discovers the hideout, silence them by any means necessary.’
To uphold this creed, the member acting as the action leader approached the unfamiliar intruder, and the Darkthorn members believed the situation would be resolved quickly.
– “Oh, judging by your movements, your shoulder muscles seem severely stiff.
I’ll apply acupuncture to relax them, but as a side effect, you won’t be able to use your left shoulder for a day, so please bear that in mind.”
– “Kuaaaah!!! My arm…! My armmm…!”
However, the intruder instantly appeared behind the action leader and stabbed something into his shoulder, causing the action leader to clutch his left shoulder and let out a painful scream.
Only then did the remaining Darkthorn members realize the gravity of the situation and draw their weapons.
Each of them was a combat prodigy, ranking among the top students in the academy.
Furthermore, having completed numerous missions, their teamwork was excellent.
They thought that no matter how strong this individual was, even if they had dealt with their action leader in a single blow, they could not defeat them.
…Or so the Darkthorn members thought at the time.
Contrary to their arrogance, the Darkthorn Club members collapsed in a truly unsightly manner in less than ten seconds.
The intruder who had defeated them then pulled out a broom from somewhere and proceeded to clean the hideout.
It was an overwhelming disparity.
Their skill alone was terrifying.
But why was this crazy person cleaning the hideout with such a blissful expression?
Could it be that they simply wanted to clean, so they invaded their hideout and beat them up…?
“Hehe, hehehe…♪”
The bizarre behavior of an incomprehensible monster.
To ordinary people, it was nothing but an unknown terror.
“Heehee~♪ I’ve finished cleaning here!”
The monster had completely transformed the dilapidated hideout in the basement.
The floor and ceiling were so clean they seemed to sparkle visibly, and new furniture and decorations appeared throughout the hideout, making it resemble a room in a grand mansion rather than a basement.
This transformation had occurred in just ten minutes.
“Then, I’ll be taking my leave now.
I’ll be sure to visit again tomorrow, so please pay attention to cleanliness this time.”
With those words, the mysterious monster leisurely exited the hideout.
Despite this being an unmanaged basement, through the gap in the door that the monster opened, they could see not a gloomy floor, but one so immaculately clean that every single wall-mounted candle holder was reflected in it.
Looking at their own faces reflected in that floor, the Darkthorn members thought:
They would rather quit the club than meet that crazy person again tomorrow.
****
“Blanc…?”
While unpacking her luggage and resting in her room, Noir heard Blanc’s knock, signaling that dinner preparations were complete.
She then descended to the student cafeteria with Blanc.
Haas’s student cafeteria.
Although it was a student cafeteria, it was renowned as one of Lysium’s top five culinary establishments, and she recalled reading in a book that it was highly popular among students because meals were free.
Therefore, Noir had come down to the cafeteria with considerable anticipation, and as she took her seat, Blanc appeared from the kitchen, carrying an astonishing amount of dishes.
“Yes, Young Lady.”
“What is all this…?”
“These are dishes specially prepared for you, Young Lady.
I had wished to serve you a full-course meal, but as you mentioned that course meals felt stifling, I presented all the dishes that would normally be served in succession at once.
This dish here is silver-winged salmon from Alfas, lightly drizzled with premium quality lemon procured from the Rukoda Merchant Guild…”
“Ah, no, that’s not what I meant…!”
Noir averted her gaze from Blanc, who was proudly explaining each dish, and hastily looked at the other students’ meals.
The menu they were eating consisted of steak and cream soup.
Those dishes, too, were highly refined and lived up to Lysium’s reputation as a top restaurant.
However, the dishes Blanc had presented were on an entirely different ‘dimension’ compared to them.
“And this steak here is from the tenderloin of a Vesrama red-horned wild ox, native to the great Vesrama forest…”
A total of twelve extravagant dishes adorned Noir’s table.
Beside them, the maid, with noble gestures, meticulously explained each one.
Eyes converged from all directions.
Noir read the emotions contained within the blatant stares directed at herself and Blanc.
Half of the gazes were bewildered, wondering, ‘What the hell is that person doing?’
And the other half were envious, thinking, ‘Wow, that looks incredibly delicious.’
Noir quietly closed her eyes.
She felt an inexplicable embarrassment from the gazes converging from all sides.
Moreover, some students were even making displeased expressions, making Noir unable to lift her head.
“Um, Blanc…? I’m truly curious, but where did you prepare these dishes?
Isn’t it proper etiquette to eat the food made by the chefs here when you come to a restaurant…?”
“Ah, you needn’t worry about that, Young Lady.
I have already received permission to use the kitchen through a Seongshikjeon.
In fact, the chef here even said it was an honor just to observe my cooking process.
Now, to continue with the explanation, this salad here is made from the Kingdom’s…”
Ultimately, Noir slowly began to eat the food Blanc had served.
She simply couldn’t refuse the dishes when Blanc had explained each one with such sparkling eyes.
“It’s… it’s delicious, Blanc.
Thank you.”
Blanc’s cooking was, as always, of the highest quality.
****
“Hmph, such are the noble aristocrats.”
Jerry Hudson, a first-year student from the Owl Class, ate the finest steak and soup, dishes she would never normally be able to afford, and gazed at her classmate sitting far away.
Some people were absolutely thrilled by the high-quality steak they were eating for the first time, yet that classmate seemed unsatisfied even with such a lavish steak, consuming even more extravagant dishes.
This created an inexplicable barrier and disparity in Jerry’s mind.
Moreover, the fact that the classmate had even enrolled with a personal maid seemed to Jerry like an assertion of, ‘I am superior, and my standing is different from yours.’
Jerry quietly cut her steak, placing a piece into her mouth.
Though it was undoubtedly the finest food she had ever tasted, a bitter flavor lingered on her tongue.
