After a small silence, the mistress said with a smile, "Let's go eat, my little Mog. As for the potion, I will need a few days to prepare myself to make it without error. In the meantime, do as you see fit."

I nodded respectfully and said, "Yes, mistress."

I wasn't worried about her going back on her words. If she doesn't fulfill my conditions, the oath will be null and void, after all. Even if the contract is 

After exiting the room, I looked through the window by the hallway and saw the setting sun. Sunset was the time when people usually ate their dinners, even nobles.¹For Romans, dinner is the most important meal of the day. They can even skip lunch, but they won't skip dinner. Also, dinner during those days was early. like 5-6 pm.

We walked until we reached the main dining hall. Inside the room, young master Aulus was already sitting down next to the already prepared dinner table, waiting for the mistress.

When I saw what lay on the dinner table, I couldn't help but gulp.

Besides the regular fruit, bread, intricate salads, cheese, and wine, there was a whole plate full of roast pig slices, weighing around 10 pounds, a stuffed roast duck, and even a large roast fish, weighing about 7 pounds laying on the table.

"I know that the dinners of the rich people are extravagant, but this is just a waste! Just the meat can easily feed over 20 people until they're full and then some. Can they even eat everything?!"

I couldn't help but turn to the mistress and ask, "Mistress, are you having guests?"

The mistress looked at me questioningly, "Hm? No, this is our regular dinner. What, are you wondering why we have so much food on the table?"

As she asked that, a teasing look flashed on her face. I could only smile warily and silently nod.

In response, the mistress smiled mysteriously, "Go to the servant dining room and ask your colleagues. I am sure they will answer you."

Following that, she entered the main dining room, leaving the curious me outside.

I could only let my imagination run wild as I walked to the high-class servant dining room.

When I entered the dining room, I saw that everyone was there, even Drusus and Lars, who weren't present during breakfast and lunch. Only Agrippa and the mysterious Thrakkare, the head cook, weren't here. Currently, they were all eating or chatting.

However, I noticed that something was off about our dinner table. There was no meat. Dinner was the most important meal of the day, but there was no meat on the table. Moreover, although some of the people were eating, they were eating strangely little. Even Borso, who usually ate like a beast unleashed, was eating strangely little.

"What is going on? There is no meat. Everyone is acting like they are waiting for something. Could it be...?"

At that line of thought, my eyes shined in expectation. I impatiently went and sat next to Cispia, who was chatting with Livia.

Cispia said to Livia while making hand gestures, "... And the lich's phylactery was shattered with a swing of his - Oh, hey Mog!"

She finally noticed me as I sat next to her.

I smiled and asked, "Hi Cispia, what were you talking about?"

Cispia smiled and said, "Oh, I was telling Livia about the story I read while we were in the library. It's a story about a hero saving a city from an evil lich."

I nodded and smiled, "That's nice. Do show me the scroll next time. I think I will read it when I have free time. Oh, right, can I ask you a quick question?"

"Hm? Oh, go ahead."

I pointed at the table, "Do you know why we don't have meat on the table? We had some meat during lunch, so surely we will have some meat during dinner, right?"

Cispia looked at me in puzzlement, "You don't know?"

Livia, who remained quiet until now, poked Cispia's side, "Cispia, he wasn't born a servant or in a noble house. Of course, he doesn't know."

A look of realization mixed with embarrassment was on Cispia's face as she said, "Right, your new, sorry."

I honestly didn't care, "It's fine. I don't mind. So..."

"Ah, right. We are waiting for leftovers."

I raised an eyebrow and repeated, "Leftovers? You mean..."

This time, Livia answered, "Yeah, just like what you think. Leftovers of the meat dishes of the masters. It is a tradition in great noble families to give during dinner leftovers to the high-ranking servants. It is to show off the family's wealth and status. It is as if to tell everyone that "even our leftovers are extravagant, and our servants eat like nobles."."

Cispia added, "Yes. As Livia said, it is for show. It also shows off our status. We are high-ranking servants of the Fidelis family. As high-ranking servants, we have a higher status than most people in the Lamarian empire. Even lesser noble houses need to show us respect. In any case, besides the food being slightly colder, we enjoy the same food as any noble out there."

At their words, my eyes shined!

"If the food I ate for lunch is equal to what I eat for my birthdays, then dinner is like eating what I could only dream of, but for every day! Thank you, Veona!"

I gave a silent prayer to my patron goddess, Veona, and then I chatted with the girls and snacked on some food as we waited for the main course.

After a quarter of an hour, a few servants holding large plates of meat entered the room. Among the servants, there was an old and short woman who wore a stola, something only a citizen would wear. She also had expensive jewelry adorning her body. Moreover, she wasn't holding a plate and was instead instructing the servants like a boss.

"Put the pork slices over there, next to the sauces. Put the roast duck over there, next to the cheese. You put the rainbow trout over there, next to the wine."

While she was bossing around the servants, I gave her a scanning look.

She had white hair tied in a bun. Her round face was a bit wrinkly, and her nose was slightly long and crooked, but her bright purple eyes and general look gave away that she was a beauty back in her prime. She was as tall as I am, and she had a rather skinny childlike frame. I wasn't sure about her race, though. She looked like a mix of a human and dwarf, which should be impossible due to incompatibility. However, despite her lack of stature, she had a very domineering aura about her, an aura demanding respect.

It only took me a moment to guess her identity. She is Thrakkare, the mysterious head cook.

She was wearing a green Stola, the clothing of scholars and mages. And judging from her clean silken clothes and expensive jewelry, I highly doubted that she is only a scholar. Also, I noticed that everyone was silently looking at her with respect in their eyes, even Erno. What Borug told me about her probably has some truth in it. She is likely both a mage and the lover of the mistress's grandfather.

Thrakkare turned her head in my direction just as I was thinking that, startling me out of my thoughts. She gazed at me appraisingly as if trying to remember who I was but failing to do so.

After a brief moment, she asked with slightly squinted eyes, "And who are you, boy? I don't recall seeing you before."

Despite her questioning me rudely, I still answered respectfully, "Hello, Miss Thrakkare. I am Mog, the Mistress's new slave."

Thrakkare raised an eyebrow, "That wild girly bought a slave and a little boy at that? What's more, she made you into a high-ranking servant? For what purpose? Don't tell me she is raising you as a mage guard."

I hesitated for a bit before I carefully answered, "That is one of my possible duties..."

Thrakkare narrowed her eyes further, before a look of realization dawned on her, "So she is raising you as a pet? Well, her tastes are not too bad, I guess. Don't worry, kiddo, I will sort her out for you to make sure that she doesn't do anything outrageous."

I could only bitterly smile and say, "Erm, thanks, Miss Thrakkare."

Thrakkare waved her hand, "Don't mention it. Now then, I need to go tend to that poor boy again."

I was confused about who she was talking about, but I still asked, "Miss Thrakkare, aren't you eating with us?"

In response, she waved her hand as she walked away, "I already ate before dinner. Enjoy your meal."

As I watched her small figure walking away with a slightly hunched back, I couldn't help but ask Cispia, "Who is she tending to?"

Cispia, who was taking a drumstick from the duck, didn't turn to me and said, "She is tending Sir Agrippa."

I got curious and asked, "Why is she tending Sir Agrippa?"

Cispia already took a bite from the drumstick and said while chewing, "Num* num*, I don't num* know the num* details. Gulp* But I know that Sir Agrippa has some sort of incurable curse on him. You saw his bandaged arm and stomach, right? It is some sort of curse that makes his left arm and stomach constantly rot. I don't want to talk about it during dinner. Just thinking about it makes my stomach churn."

I nodded and didn't give it another thought. I then set my gaze on the feast in front of me and began to eat. I must say, it is delicious.

 

 

 

 

 

Agrippa POV:

"Gk... Argh..."

I was now inside my bed-chamber, a room with soundproofing effect to nullify any voice from coming outside while letting voice enter. I was lying on my bed, pain washing over me like tidal waves. Even my S-rank willpower, something that can let me even endure the pain of getting a limb sawed off, is unable to help me withstand this horrible pain.

"Cough* Cough*. Whiz*, hah*. Whiz*, hah*."

I could only breathe faintly, as breathing any deeper would elicit more pain from my constantly rotting entrails. Thanks to my entrails rotting all the time, I could only ingest certain skin-absorbed medicinal foods, so I never eat and drink with the others. Also, it affected my prostate gland, so I lost my drive for sex, rendering me infertile.

What's worse, no mortal potion or spell can heal this wound. Every time someone heals me, my body heals me back to my previous state of constant rot.

"Fucking, dark, cultist! Cough* Cough*! Bloody, fucking, soul scaring! Gu...!"

That is right. I was cursed by a dark cultist, worshipping a dark god. He used a forbidden spell that sacrifices himself to damage the very soul of an individual. The spell was intended for master Bultatus, but as a dutiful mage-guard, I took the hit for him. The runic Mythril-coated magic steel shield and armor I was so proud of proved of little use, as the spell penetrated its magical defenses and tore the soul on my left arm and stomach.

Although some emergency treatment from priests managed to put together some of my shambled soul pieces, just like a broken vase fixed with glue, it was still cracked, scarred. No potion, magic, or God's blessing has managed to cure this affliction, only give it some respite.

The only thing that kept me alive until now, or even functioning for that matter, was one person.

Creak*

As if on cue, the door opened. I saw the familiar face of Thrakkare standing by the entrance. She is my savior and the one keeping my injured soul intact. Not many know her background, and few know her true story. Even the Fidelis siblings don't know. Only a few core members of the Fidelis family know her true identity. I was one of them.

After closing the door, reactivating the runes on it, she scanned my pathetic display. After a painfully long half a minute, she sighed and silently approached me. She sat on a chair I prepared beforehand next to the bed, reached out her old and wrinkled hand, and chanted.

"Give a brief respite to this poor and shattered soul. Soul mend."

After her chant, I felt the unbearable pain that plagued me lessen. It gradually got reduced to bearable pain. If before, I felt like my entrails were being dragged out of my body and constantly eaten by vultures, I now only felt a dagger stuck in it. It is painful but bearable.

Now, being temporarily freed from my horrible pain, I stood up from the bed and said with a clear and relaxed voice, "Thank you, honorable guardian."

Yes, she is a guardian of the Fidelis family. And, to be a guardian, one must be at the standard of an S-rank professional, someone who has met one of the minimum requirements to become a demigod. Beyond that, however, I do not know anything, nor do I need to know. All I know and care about is that she can mend my soul and protect the young masters from harm.

Thrakkare shook her head, "I told you before, call me Thrakkare, no need for that fancy bullshit title. Anyways, how are you holding up?"

I shook my head and bitterly answered, "The pain is unbearable, even for me. My strength is stagnant at B-rank. My soul is also healing very slowly. At this point, I very much prefer to die and reincarnate."

However, Thrakkare shook her head and said, "I told you before, dying with a damaged soul will give you a lot of trouble in the netherworld. You would be bullied and mocked while unable to retaliate. You might even get eaten by a soul cleaner. You should endure the pain and recover your soul for as long as possible. At your rate of recovery, I reckon that it would take barely 15 years for your soul to fully recover."

I bitterly smiled as I said, "15 years is a long time."

Thrakkare shook her head, "15 years is a short amount of time. Souls heal slowly, unlike the body. It is already a miracle that you can even slowly heal your soul instead of it already shattering even more. If your willpower and soul were even a bit less tenacious, you would die a slow and agonizing true death. Besides, the process of healing from a soul wound strengthens your soul and talent. Your future journey to achieve demigodhood will be smooth. With your talent, it would only be a matter of time."

I gave an honest smile and said, "Thank you for the encouragement, honorable Thrakkare."

Thrakkare gave a genial smile and said, "Don't mention it, kid. You saved my only son's life, after all."

And that is also Thrakkare's other secret identity. She is master Bultatus's biological mother. Even though she was but a lover of the master's father, due to her strength, talent, and alleged beauty, her son, master Bultatus, a bastard out of wedlock, was adopted into the main family and eventually became the current patriarch. Although there was discontent among the elders, they eventually accepted him due to his incredible talent, sharp mind, and leadership skills, as well as Thrakkare's strength.

I shook my head and replied, "That was my oathbound duty."

Thrakkare nodded and then changed the subject and asked, "A few minutes ago, I saw a new face. Mog, I believe, right? What do you think about him? For that silly little girl to select him like that, he should have some potential, right?"

At her words, I solemnly nodded and said, "Yes, Ma'am. I checked him myself. Along with advanced warrior talent, he has C-rank willpower at the tender age of 10. That is even better than me. I only had D-rank willpower at his age, and I was called a prodigy."

At my words, Thrakkare slightly widened her eyes. I have only seen it once when she saw my soul wound.

She asked in a calm tone, "Are you sure?"

Although I found it odd for her to react like this, I still answered, "Yes, I checked him myself. I am sure he has C-rank willpower."

Thrakkare stayed silent for a few moments before saying, "I see... Alright, get some rest, kid."

She then stood up and silently left the room, leaving me alone to my thoughts.