The Principle of a Philosopher by Eternal Fool “Asley”

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As Betty and Itsuki exchanged a few words between themselves, Bruce continued his role as the host.

A dish was placed in front of Asley.

It contained vibrant orange, brown, and translucent ingredients.

“Meat and potato stew!” Lina announced.

Betty clutched her forehead dramatically and exclaimed,

Bruce and Itsuki restrained the hysterical Betty, while Lina blushed and looked down, mumbling,

“Miss Betty… You’re not supposed to say that out loud…”

Asley chuckled, clasped his hands together, and took a bite of the meat.

“Delicious! Really, it is! It’s not too sweet, perfectly rich, and the natural sweetness of the vegetables and meat is amazing! How did you make this in just fifty minutes!?”

“I used the Boil spell together with a new magic I recently invented… Hehehe…”

Lina beamed with pride at Asley’s praise.

And as one would expect, Asley was quite intrigued by the newly invented magic.

“Wait, it’s your very own original spell?” he asked.

“Nothing too fancy,” Lina explained. “It’s a pressure-generating formula that makes the meat and vegetables very tender.”

Asley nodded, clearly impressed and pleased by his apprentice’s innovation.

“I see, a practical magic for cooking…” Warren said, clad in a floral apron and carrying his dish as he approached right behind Lina. “This could be an unexpectedly tough competitor.”

Bruce announced.

Lina stepped aside, bowing to Asley before leaving, but not without stopping a moment to declare to Warren, “I won’t lose!”

Warren chuckled. “Hehehe… That’s intimidating.”

He then knelt before Asley and presented a rectangular box.

Asley opened it and his face promptly contorted in confusion.

“……What in blazes is this?”

“Can’t you tell? It’s the Devil King’s Lunch — based on a T’oued bento box♪!” Warren said cheerfully.

“…Is this supposed to be me?”

“I used a pickled plum for the nose. What do you think♪?”

“But there are so many different dishes in here! Isn’t that against the rules?”

“A bento is a special kind of meal. It’s not a collection of dishes; it’s the harmony of all components together♪”

Unconvinced by Warren’s excuse, Asley glanced over at the announcers’ table.

There, Betty and Bruce promptly both gave a thumbs-up.

Once again, Asley realized he had no allies.

He looked back at the bento box, which featured a caricature of his face made from various ingredients topping the white rice.

“I used seaweed and hijiki for the outline of your face and the glasses, a pickled plum for the nose, and the fried chicken represents Chappie and Pochi’s unbreakable bond.”

“Uh, it’s just normal fried chicken…”

“Now, take a look at the sweets.”

“……Ohh, I get it. Now this DOES invoke the image of Pochi and Chappie. You’ve captured them perfectly.”

“Exactly♪! The rice, plum, and apple were freshly harvested from the second Lala Farm. Please, Your Majesty, enjoy,” Warren encouraged with a radiant smile.

Determined not to be swayed by the smile, Asley nervously took a bite of the Devil King’s Lunch.

As soon as he did, he set his chopsticks down and covered his eyes.

Everyone watched, stunned by his reaction.

“…Your Majesty?” Prime Minister Leon asked, concerned.

Ignoring Leon’s question, tears streamed down Asley’s cheeks.

It took a moment for everyone to realize he was crying.

Asley finally spoke, his voice trembling.

“…S-so good…”

“”!?””

As brief as the comment was, the intensity of it conveyed to the whole crowd that this dish surpassed the three others.

“How did you make it this good…?”

“Your Majesty, what could be more powerful than the seasoning… of loooooove?”

“W-well, let’s just… leave it at that…” Asley muttered, shaking.

Warren, smiling, left the stage.

Right after him, Fuyu stepped forward, watching Warren’s retreat with determination.

She advanced one step at a time, the intimidation of a strong rival at her back.

As Asley was wiping his eyes, she proceeded to place a tall bowl in front of Asley.

It was quite different from all the cooking that had been presented up to now.

“Hehehe… I remember that you said you liked this kind of thing, Fuyu.”

“Indeed, I do! It’s a chocolate milk tropical sundae, with extra chocolate, Fuyu-style!” she declared.

Suddenly, Gaston’s eyes widened in anticipation.

He shot Asley a pleading look.

‘If there’s any left, give it to me’ was what he implied.

Asley could not eat everything — All the contestants and even Asley himself knew that. That someone would outright ask to have the leftovers, however, was likely unexpected. The organizer, Bright, chuckled at Gaston’s eagerness.

Asley took a long spoon and scooped up the fluffy milk whip and fresh fruits from Lala Farm, putting the generous portion into his mouth. The sweet and tangy flavors melted together, sliding smoothly down his throat.

“Sweet~~!” Asley exclaimed, his voice ringing with delight.

Fuyu beamed with pride; at the same time, Gaston cracked a grin. He held up his own spoon and waited eagerly for his turn.

“The strawberry ice cream under the whip was incredible. Thank you, Fuyu.”

“I’m so glad you liked it! I did my best!” Fuyu replied, her face lighting up as she walked away.

By now, Gaston was already holding the sundae bowl, his eyes shining with boyish excitement.

Behind him, a young woman cloaked in a dark aura approached.

From her bubbling pot emanated a foul stench, and the thick black liquid within made everyone pinch their noses. Asley’s face twitched in trepidation.

The announcers proceeded to relocate upwind from Tifa.

Glancing resentfully at those three, Asley looked at the ominous pot Tifa set before him.

The trembling in his eyes was evident to all, surpassing even his fear the night before he went to face Devil King Lucifer.

Tifa, glancing nervously at the pot, murmured softly,

“It’s… pork miso soup…”

History would later record this moment as one where the Holy Demon Kingdom’s timeline seemed to freeze.

The viscous, dark liquid that Tifa called pork miso soup utterly baffled Asley. He could not understand how her senses had judged that this creation of hers was even remotely edible.

“Pork miso soup… Right… Well, here goes nothing…”

Despite his words, Asley’s fingers and arms refused to move.

His body rejected the idea of this as food. Everyone but Tifa could see it.

Yet, the enthusiastic sibling duo cheered with bright smiles.

Itsuki’s sympathy was faintly audible, but even she wore an expectant smile. She, too, awaited the Devil King’s reaction.

[Damn it! I’ll remember this, you guys…!]

This would certainly become a memory of their enjoyable times together.

[Must I really do this…? Do I have no other choice…!?]

Nope.

[D-DAMN IT ALL!]

Finally, Asley braved the dark concoction.

The sound that echoed in his brain was sticky, the texture in his mouth indescribable.

Even for someone as experienced as Asley, it was a new sensation.

His jaws refused to chew, leaving swallowing as his only option. With a desperate expression, he gulped it down.

[Bitter, salty, sour, sweet… and FOUL.]

Asley’s simplistic mental reaction was far from a culinary review. Yet, everyone understood when they saw his strained smile.

“How… was it?” Tifa asked.

Asley felt cornered.

He knew he could not lie — he had to manage his answer.

Swallowing the lingering aftertaste, he exhaled and said,

“I’d… give it a passing grade… I guess? Hahaha.”

It was not too harsh or too lenient — a safe middle ground. Asley knew the magnitude of Tifa’s determination, for she was his second student.

Tifa looked down for a moment but quickly began muttering to herself, planning improvements.

And it was clear that she intended to go at it herself.

Noticing that, Asley added,

“Oh, I know. You could ask Haruhana or Lina for advice–“

“–It’s all right. I can manage by myself,” Tifa interrupted firmly, turning her back to him.

As she walked away, Asley felt proud… but he could not help but also be concerned.

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