Episode 96 — The Golden Cascade

The nobles, their hearts still etched with the terror from the courtyard, followed the guides into the manor.

The moment they stepped into the Grand Hall, they froze, looking around in bewilderment. A pleasant, artificial coolness greeted them, instantly washing away the humid night air. Above all, the interior was shockingly clean. There wasn't a trace of the moldy smell or layer of dust that had once plagued the Felsen manor; instead, the polished floors reflected the light of the magic stone lamps like a dark mirror.

"Wh-What is this scent?" one noble stammered, his voice a mix of confusion and anticipation.

Dominating the air of the hall was a rich, dense, and entirely unknown aroma that tugged directly at their appetites. It was the fragrance of herbs and a hint of garlic, all wrapped in the soft, warm scent of heated milk.

The guests' eyes were drawn to a certain "thing" sitting in the center of the hall.

"Is that... a fountain? But wait..."

Towering before them was a massive, golden, multi-tiered apparatus. At the very top stood a statue of a maiden tilting a jar with an elegant grace. The shocking part, however, was the liquid overflowing from that jar. It wasn't water, nor was it wine. A lustrous golden liquid with a thick, velvety viscosity tumbled down the tiers in smooth, continuous layers.

The cascading liquid caught the light of the magic stone lamps, glowing with a pearlescent sheen as it circulated through the tiers like a series of waterfalls. Struck by the visual impact and the overwhelming allure of the aroma, the nobles stood there, speechless.

"I hope this finds you well," Gustav said, appearing serenely from behind the crowd. He picked up a silver fork, skewered a piece of freshly baked bread, and dipped it into the golden cascade. "This is a blessing born of our new Felsen logic: the 'Golden Cascade.'"

"The... Cascade?" Daryl repeated suspiciously. In this world, no one had ever imagined that something so beautiful, flowing like a liquid, could actually be food.

"By meticulously organizing our territory’s pastures and pursuing the absolute limits of freshness and temperature control, we have perfected this 'flowing delicacy.' ...Duke Daryl, would you care for the first taste?"

Gustav held out the bread coated in the blessing.

The Duke hesitated. The intimidation from the Knights earlier flashed through his mind. Was this poison? Or a curse intended to make him submit? But the aroma wafting past his nose ruthlessly stripped away his reason.

Daryl steeled himself and brought it to his mouth.

"...!?"

The Duke’s eyes snapped wide.

The moment he chewed, a vivid sweetness from the milk and a rich, deep umami exploded in his mouth. The velvety liquid wrapped around his tongue like silk, and the scent of herbs drifting through his senses pleasantly numbed his brain. It was a pleasure on a completely different dimension from any luxury he had ever tasted.

"Wh-What is this...! It’s melting... It’s as if the flavor itself has seized my very mind!"

With the Duke’s shout as a signal, the nobles—who had reached their limit—swarmed the apparatus. Bread, steamed vegetables, and even fresh fruit. Every time they dipped a morsel into the golden cascade and brought it to their lips, cheers bordering on screams erupted throughout the hall.

These were high-ranking nobles. They prided themselves on having experienced the finest banquets the Capital had to offer. But what was before them now wasn't an extension of existing fine dining; it was a complete rewriting of the concept of food itself.

Gustav walked among the feasting nobles with a quiet smile. He had planted fear with overwhelming force (discipline) and was now conquering their stomachs with a cuisine they had never seen (culture). Under this masterful push and pull, the pride of the neighboring lords was crumbling away without a trace.

"In Felsen, there are many more 'logics' still sleeping that you have yet to see," Gustav said.

Daryl shuddered at his words. This prosperity wasn't a fluke. The discipline of the Knights, the cleanliness of this manor, and this unknown delicacy—everything was constructed by a "solid will," calculated with terrifying precision.

Suddenly, Daryl’s eyes flickered to the corner of the hall. There, in an eerie silence, sat a chessboard with black and white pieces that had yet to be touched by anyone.

Physical terror. Cultural shock. And what was coming next... a challenge to their very intelligence.

The banquet laid out by the monster known as Felsen had only just begun.

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