It was the second day since the well water had been contaminated.
Although Grandpa Bagla and the villagers had hauled clean water from a nearby river, a heavy atmosphere still hung over the village.
The livestock not only stopped laying eggs but had even begun a hunger strike, huddling in their nests with their heads drooping listlessly.
Inside the church, Celia was wrapped in a blanket, her small face appearing somewhat pale.
The symptoms of her cold had eased significantly, but the chill seeping from the depths of her bones remained stubborn.
Coupled with her inability to drink any Happy Water, the young girl’s mood had been stuck in a state of “mostly cloudy with a chance of rain.”
“Elent.”
“I’m here.”
“Start a fire. I need to sweat the toxins out of my body,” Celia said, sniffing her nose.
“Huh? Does the Priestess want to take a bath?” Elent asked, momentarily stunned.
“No. I want to eat hotpot. The extra spicy kind.”
There was no chill that a single meal of hotpot couldn’t dispel.
If there was, then make it two meals.
Although Elent had never heard the word “hotpot” before, he quickly understood the concept under Celia’s explanation.
Wasn’t it just cooking ingredients in a boiling soup base? Simple.
Elent went to the kitchen and sliced the remaining meat of the Crimson Giant Chicken into thin pieces, then chopped the wild mushrooms and green vegetables in turn.
A copper basin was placed atop the Magic Stove. The soup base was a broth Elent had simmered using the chicken carcass, the milky-white liquid bubbling under the high heat.
Celia took charge of the seasoning herself. Following a recipe from her memory, she threw the most similar spices available in this Other World into the pot.
Then, she poured hot oil over them. A pungent, spicy aroma exploded, instantly filling the air of the entire church.
Tucked away in a corner, Iris sneezed and looked up with eyes brimming with tears.
It was so pungent, yet it smelled so good.
What was the Lady Witch up to now?
That aggressive fragrance was like a hook, snagging the gluttonous insects in Iris’s stomach.
“Come here and sit down to eat,” Celia said, tapping the table.
Iris hesitated for a moment before finally shuffling over to the edge of the table.
“Am I allowed to?”
“As long as you don’t let your snot drip into the pot.”
Iris hurriedly wiped her nose and took a seat at the corner of the table.
“Let’s eat.”
At Celia’s command, she picked up a slice of chicken and swished it through the red oil seven or eight times.
The meat changed color, becoming coated in red chili oil and sesame seeds.
Celia popped the slice into her mouth—scalding, spicy, and tender. A multitude of textures exploded on the tip of her tongue, igniting her taste buds.
A wave of heat slid down her esophagus into her stomach, then radiated to every corner of her body.
“Whew!”
Celia opened her mouth and exhaled a puff of hot air, her originally pale cheeks quickly flushing red.
Refreshing.
Her blocked nasal passages cleared, her heavy head felt lighter, and even the frustration pent up in her heart was washed away by this surge of spiciness.
“This is delicious!”
Elent was also sweating profusely as he ate, his hands never stopping for a second.
However, what truly elevated this hotpot was Celia’s specially mixed “soul dipping sauce.”
Sui Feng had no sesame paste, nor was there any fine garlic mash pounded out with a mortar and pestle.
But using substitutes found in this Other World, the taste was seventy to eighty percent similar, with a few extra hints of local flavor.
When a scalding slice of meat took a trip through the red oil pot, emerged carrying a domineering spiciness, and was immediately submerged into this thick bowl of dipping sauce—
The high temperature activated the spicy fragrance, while the mellow richness of the sauce neutralized the dry heat of the chili, making it smooth and multi-layered.
Celia sent the sauce-laden meat into her mouth, savoring the pleasure of tenderness and crispness intertwining between her teeth.
Utterly divine!
“Priestess, this way of eating is fantastic. The freshness of the meat is completely brought out!”
“Naturally.”
Celia picked up a piece of mushroom that had soaked up the broth.
Watching the two of them eating with such gusto, Iris swallowed her saliva and fished out a piece of tofu.
So hot! So spicy!
The moment it entered her mouth, Iris was so burned that she stuck out her tongue, gasping for air. But the deliciousness that followed made her loath to spit it out.
‘This must be the Lady Witch’s alchemical potion!’
Iris thought indignantly, yet she couldn’t control her hand as she reached her fork toward a second piece.
Even though her tongue was throbbing with pain as if she were swallowing lava, why was her brain producing such a strange sense of pleasure?
This sensation was even more exhilarating than being whipped by her sister!
‘Have I fallen so low that I find human slop delicious?’
‘No, it’s not that I lack resolve; it is purely because this tofu has soaked up all the flavor! Just one last piece, truly the last one.’
Iris continued to pant and shed tears, yet the fork in her hand did not stop.
At this moment, the Red-eyed Crow and her sister’s pursuit were all cast to the back of her mind.
The only thing left in her world was this pot of bubbling red soup.
The church was filled with steam, the sound of chewing, and the sound of sharp inhalations.
Slowly, the sky outside darkened as the setting sun was obscured by clouds.
Just then, a bird’s cry suddenly rang out.
Iris’s hand, which was in the middle of grabbing meat, trembled. The slice fell back into the pot, splashing a few drops of red oil.
“Caw—”
It cried again.
This time it was closer, just outside the window.
Celia frowned. She had just picked up a piece of chicken and was about to put it in her mouth.
“Whose crow is that? It sounds hideous.”
Celia grumbled with dissatisfaction. She didn’t pay it much mind and continued bringing the chicken toward her lips.
Then, something seemed to thud against the window. Immediately afterward, a black shadow dropped down and landed on the window’s crossbeam.
It was a crow, but it had three feet.
The third foot was curled against its belly, the tips of its claws shimmering with a cold, metallic light.
The crow tilted its head and looked into the room through the clean glass.
A pair of blood-red eyes locked onto Iris, who was sitting at the corner of the table.
The fork in Iris’s hand fell onto the table. Her face turned deathly pale, her lips trembled, and her entire body went limp as she slumped into her chair.
It was here. The Inspector’s eye had found her.
The Red-eyed Crow opened its beak, and a strange clicking sound came from its throat, sounding like laughter.
The crow pecked at the glass with its sharp beak.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sound was rhythmic, like the Grim Reaper knocking at the door.
Celia stopped chewing.
She looked at the crow, then at the terrified Iris. A surge of nameless anger suddenly flared up within her.
She had finally managed to suppress her cold.
She was finally eating a good meal.
The atmosphere had finally been so nice.
This three-legged freak of a bird was not only making that ghostly noise, but it even dared to stare at her employee?
More importantly, the dust shaken loose by its pecking seemed to have fallen into her dipping sauce bowl.
“Elent.”
Celia put down her chopsticks. Her voice was calm to a terrifying degree.
“Open the window.”
“But Priestess, that’s a magical creature. It’s dangerous.”
“I told you to open it.”
Celia picked up an empty plate from the table and weighed it in her hand.
“It got dust in my bowl.”
“I’m going to teach it the meaning of church dining etiquette.”