< Hunger is satisfied >

[ Chef’s Kiss activated ]

[ Recipe - Roasted Butcher Demon: Cooked to a medium rare finish. Glazed with the juices of underworld petals with a side dish of Lust Guards' tongue. An odd combination that doesn’t go well with each other. ]

[ Rating C-]

| 16.1 Strength added.

| 3.4 Dexterity added.

| 14.7 Constitution added.

| 6.2 Intelligence added.

| 3.4 Wisdom added.

| 2.7 Charisma added.

< [ Hunger’s Evolution ] is taking place… >

< [ Underworld Flower Thorns ] : The underworld flower’s thorns protect it from various insects and herbivores that prey on its delicious flowers.. >

Don’t tell me? With the thought, razor sharp barbed thorns emerged from his skin. The thorns were black with a vivid purple tip.

“Holy shit, Alphonse…” Tariq’s eyes opened wide as he witnessed the sudden appearance of Alphonse. Black vicious thorns covered his arms from his knuckles; it crept all the way upwards as they took over his arm. Two bigger thorns popped out from his forehead, creating a demonic visage.

Alphonse’s eyes gazed at his arms in wonder, his fingers grazed over the thorns. With effort, they broke past his high constitution. A burning pain began seeping into his skin as it traveled through his bloodstream before vanishing. Alphonse imagined them disappearing and his body retracted the sharp thorns. It was a strange feeling. It was just like walking or opening your jaw. It just listened to him.

Alphonse spent the rest of the time ripping into the meat that was held in the fridge, but because he didn’t kill it personally and it wasn’t fresh, the points he received were marginal compared to the Butcher Demon.

Looks like if I want a higher chance of gaining a skill, I need to kill it personally and cook it as well as I can. Or it seems like if the enemy is a lot stronger, it has a higher chance of granting me a skill. After testing, he concluded.

“You did well.” Alphonse patted Markus on the shoulder with a smile.

“Aye, if we ever make it back, you’ll have to pay for my services.” Markus smirked as he turned to pick up his shield.

“I’ll look forward to it. I’ll get the best ingredients I can find for you.” Alphonse picked up his cleaver as he walked towards the steps.

“Everything alright?” Alphonse’s eyes rested on Haydon as his eyes wandered around the room.

“They’re back, the shadows.”

“Should we deal with them first? I don’t want any potential threats on my back.” Gabriel held his staff as mana seeped into the wood.

“Think you can flush them out, Haydon?” Alphonse nodded in agreement.

“I’ll give it a shot.” Haydon said as his body blended into the shadows.

No matter how hard Alphonse strained his ears, he couldn’t make out a single sound. His hands itched. He hated waiting.

“There!” Felecia pointed to a corner of the room. The shadows squirmed. Strange liquid poured out from within the walls.

It wasn’t blood, or it wasn’t any blood Alphonse was used to. It was almost black. A putrid smell emitted from within the walls as it wafted into his nostrils. It smells like rotten fish. Alphonse thought as he tried to breathe through his mouth instead of using his heightened sense of smell.

Then, the shadows returned to normal.

“Where is he?” Sweat appeared from Gabriel’s forehead.

Time traveled forwards as the group was stuck within the castle’s kitchen.

< Time remaining 13 days >

The message within their heads reminded them of the mission. They did not know if 13 days was good or bad. It felt like they were near the end, but how could they be sure?

“Alphonse, what’s the call? We can’t wait here all day,” Gabriel said. “We don’t know what Lucus is up to. He might have already made it by now.”

“We can’t leave Haydon.” Felecia scowled as her eyes glistened. “We can't lose another one.”

“It’s been at least 5 hours now, Felecia,” John shook his head. His arms had long become numb from holding his bow at the ready. “Gabriel is right. We can’t wait for him.”

“What do you think, Markus?” Alphonse looked at the mountain standing within the room.

“Don’t look at me, boss, I don’t have a clue. I’ll follow your call.”

“Alright…” Alphonse sighed as he looked back at the shadows within the room. “We'll have to go.”

Just as the words had left Alphonse’s mouth, a sudden holy light flashed within the room, the pillar of light targeted at the shadows as the concentrated light disappeared within the stone walls.

“Felecia…” Alphonse placed his hand on her shoulder. “We can’t help. We’ll just need to believe in him.”

Felecia bit her lip as she slowly nodded. She tore her eyes away from the shadows as she helplessly followed behind Alphonse. Another one. Felecia steeled her eyes as she focused on her steps. One after the other, they walked up the stairs.

The mood had soured once more; the group had shrunk by another. They said nothing, but they knew they had little chance of completing the mission.

Soon, two unopened large doors appeared before them. Despite the grand carvings within the maze and even within the castle, it was nothing compared to the doors in front of them. One side was cast in a black as deep as an abyss, the other a pure white that brought with it a peaceful aura. Alphonse felt uncomfortable as his vision lay on the white door. Stripping his eyes away from it, they shifted to the abyss-like door. They landed on the fat demon carved into its surface. The demon’s eyes were glaring towards the white door. Alphonse could feel the hatred within him as his blood boiled. He craved blood. He wanted to fight and kill.

Alphonse shook his head as the feeling dispersed.

“Those must be the seven deadly sins, alongside the seven heavenly virtues.” Gabriel’s eyes rested on the man in a three-piece suit–his hair slicked back–his gaze seemed to disregard the surrounding people. As if he was above everyone else there.

“How do you know?” Markus craned his eyes towards the door.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t figured it out yet?” Gabriel looked at Markus. “Who am I kidding? Of course you haven’t. This place obviously has something to do with the seven deadly sins and the seven virtues.”

“It makes sense. I remember reading about them back in high-school,” Oskar nodded. “What do you think is through those doors?”

“Our destination.” Gabriel said with certainty.

“Shouldn’t the doors be open if Lucus made his way over here?” Tariq looked around for any signs of a human walking through, but he had no luck.

“Maybe he went the other way.” Felecia added.

“Doesn’t really matter either way.” Alphonse shook his head. He walked forwards as his hand reached towards the black door.

“Wait…” Felecia stepped forwards. “I think we should open the white one.”

Alphonse looked back in surprise. “Why?”

“It feels… right,” Felecia said. “My heart is telling me to open the white door.”

“Is it?” Gabriel spoke up. “Or is it a voice inside your head, Felecia?”

“Uh…” Felecia bit her lip. “The voice is telling me.”

“I’m the same as Felecia.” Markus said. “Again Alphonse, I’ll follow your call.”

“Well–we’re in a dilemma then–aren’t we?” Gabriel smiled. “How about a vote?”

“Why the hell would we vote?” Tariq frowned. “Does it make sense to choose a black door over the white one? Have we all gone crazy?”

“Alphonse, we should open the white door.” Oskar said. “I’m not getting a good feeling from the black one.”

“I’d have to disagree there.” Gabriel shook his head. “I think we should go through the black door.” His eyes looking back at the noble-looking man.

Alphonse shook his head, the voices inside that had been suppressed gushed forth as they desperately attempted to persuade him to open the black door.

You’re fucking pissing me off. Alphonse spat. His palm rested in the middle of the doors as he pushed it open. The voices protested, but he ignored them. Pain shot into his hand that rested on the white side of the door. He gritted his teeth as the seething pain roared up his arm.

Stop telling me what to fucking do. With that thought, the doors opened up into a magnificent room. A deep maroon carpet sprawled royally along the floor as it traveled deep into the room.

Alphonse eyes, guided by the maroon carpet, lay on an imposing throne made from a menagerie of bones. He could only guess how many died creating such a monstrosity. A young man sat deeply within. The seat clearly wasn’t built for his size, as it completely dwarfed him.

But it wasn’t the person sitting in the chair that gained Alphonse’s attention, but the chest under his foot that sent his heart and mind asunder. Alphonse felt like his pride and his very being was being disrespected.

“KILL HIM THEN EAT MY HEART ALPHONSE.” A psychotic, giggling voice penetrated his thoughts.

Alphonse and the man within the seat met each other's eyes.