Chapter 7: Custard Pudding

After returning home, Alan carefully placed that “¥#@*&” plant into a clear crystal water bottle.

This type of crystal had a very strong effect in repelling curses and suppressing toxins. To be extra safe, Alan also added some spring water that had been infused with bay branches into the bottle, which further strengthened the crystal bottle’s white magic.

The plant itself didn’t appear unusual.

It lay quietly in the crystal bottle, and if one ignored the scales on its surface, it actually looked like a normal, albeit ugly, plant.

Alan, with a serious expression, drew a circle of salt around the crystal bottle and then placed it in the center of his desk.

After finishing all this, he slowly exhaled and collapsed in exhaustion into a rocking chair in a corner of the room.

…The interaction with Forest Ranger Veles had almost scared his soul to pieces!

To soothe himself, that night Alan made a large plate of warm jam cake, a serving of mashed potatoes drenched in meat sauce, and he even ate a big pile of chilled peach chunks—peaches that had been soaking in white wine before, carefully stored in a container enhanced with ice magic.

If not for today’s unexpected events, they would have, in a few days, turned into golden-yellow peach jam with a faint wine aroma, and in the gradually cooling deep autumn, become piping-hot fillings in pies, cakes, and puff pastries.

But now, Alan couldn’t help himself: he ate all those cold, wine-soaked peach chunks, accompanied by a glass of honey iced tea filled with ice.

“Hic—”

Alcohol, sugar, and fruit.

With his stomach finally full, Alan’s mind began to calm down.

He let out a tiny drunken hiccup.

The side effect of letting himself relax so completely was a bit of drowsiness.

However, before falling asleep, Alan mustered his strength and stood up to head toward the kitchen.

He chose his favorite silver plate and placed a chunk of warm jam cake on it, roughly the size of his fist.

Of course, the jam was no longer hot, but the golden, fluffy cake still smelled deliciously sweet.

Alan set the plate, along with the warm jam cake, on the windowsill.

This time, he didn’t pray for anything; instead, he clasped his hands together and solemnly thanked the fairies.

Although it probably had no effect, Alan would not forget how the fairies at the end of the little path had struggled to drive away that strange silver-eyed man today.

After finishing his thanks, Alan swayed as he stood up. It was at that moment that he suddenly felt, out of the corner of his eye, that he had glimpsed something.

Alan jumped and quickly turned his head.

There was nothing unusual.

After confirming that, he relaxed again.

“Although it’s just a peach… after soaking in wine… hmm, it’s kind of intoxicating…”

He murmured to himself, a little puzzled, as he returned to the table.

He closed the jam jar, yawned, and decided to go to bed. He was so tired that even though he vaguely noticed the jam in the jar seemed to have less than before, he had no energy to care.

As for the green-scaled plant, it remained obedient and quiet, lying peacefully inside the crystal bottle and the circle of salt.

Earlier, at the exact moment when Alan had been startled by the shadow in his peripheral vision, deep in the forest, not far from Alan’s house, Forest Ranger Veles paused mid-motion while wiping his long blade.

Before he fully realized it, he had licked his lips.

Perhaps this was some sort of secret technique again.

Veles forced himself to calmly analyze his current state.

Although the Dragon Vine could indeed share sensations and form connections, what it had given that human was only a seedling, and the only thing that could be shared was a very faint trace of sweetness. Moreover, it had merely been ordinary, non-magical food that the person had casually prepared.

Yet even so… he still felt dazed by how exquisite that taste had been.

He even felt a subtle sense of dissatisfaction.

Hunger.

And emptiness.

It had started this afternoon, from the close contact with that human.

Veles had, until now, been obsessively fixated on the sensation of that human’s skin—smooth and tender, like a custard pudding carefully crafted by a palace chef, as if a slight touch could crush it and release the rich, creamy sweetness.

This wasn’t right.

Veles could hear a voice from within his own body telling him so.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

**TN

Dear Alan, those fairies were mad because their food was stolen. XD

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