The Abandoned Saint's Happy Feeding Life - Chapter 1
Volume 1: The Saintess Arrives in the Land of the Gods / The Village of Tradition
Soft light fell upon her face.
(Oh no, the sun is already up!! My duties!! I have to get up!!)
She hurriedly tried to open her eyes.
…But,
(Something feels… incredibly good… this smooth, fluffy fur…? So warm…)
The exquisitely soft and warm thing draped over her body felt too good, and her body refused to wake.
(And these sheets, this pillow—so silky, so fluffy, and what a wonderful scent… like being in a flower garden…)
When she tried to move, she felt the touch of fabric so fine it could only belong to nobility.
The cloth was fluffy, warm, fragrant—like sleeping on a cloud above a flower garden.
(Ah, I must have been called to heaven. For God to accept this sinful body… how merciful He is…)
Overwhelmed with emotion, tears spilled from her still-unwilling eyes.
“Wazusa dansei fukushi? Jūryū-rui, zuisaka geki?”
An utterly unfamiliar language reached her ears.
“Shokuji tsuki? Shōji chōshō funron zōnei mi sō”
She couldn’t understand a word, but she knew someone was speaking to her.
A low, clear male voice.
Perhaps the God of heaven was addressing her.
She forced open her stubbornly closed eyes.
“Suzufuku cho? Sōtetsu kōrō kanji gan ro shu ki”
Through tear-blurred vision, someone was peering down at her.
She pulled her hand from the wonderfully smooth fur and rubbed her eyes.
(It’s the God of War…)
In her now-clear sight stood a man with strong-willed brows, thoughtful black eyes, and skin deeply kissed by the sun.
His physique was perfectly proportioned, imposing—like a conqueror.
An overwhelming yet pure divine aura radiated from him, and instinctively, she knew he was the god who governed war.
His pure white clothing was simple for a god, but a powerful symbol was drawn on his chest, and the garments beneath—simple in shape—were made of materials she had never seen.
There could be no mistake.
“Tōmaze katsuo kōkai bo kyori tsunagi nazo?”
In a low but gentle voice, he asked her something.
(What should I do…)
She couldn’t understand the god’s words at all.
She couldn’t even reply to his gracious speech.
Regretting not having studied theology, she reluctantly left the enchanting bed and somehow sat up.
“God-sama, I am deeply grateful for your gracious words. But I am truly sorry. This ignorant one cannot understand your divine speech.”
She bowed deeply, prostrating herself.
But inwardly, she tilted her head in confusion.
Her tongue felt tangled, hard to move.
Her body wouldn’t respond properly—difficult to control.
She had meant to bow gracefully, but her face sank pofun into the soft bed, her head felt oddly in the way, and her arms wouldn’t extend properly.
“Omotama!? Hakkan gai gō tsuzura sasa gairui hani!?”
Her utterly unrefined prostration seemed to startle the god, who raised his voice.
And then, in an act of great reverence, the god himself lifted her prostrated body with his own hands.
“…?”
He was larger than she had imagined.
His hands under her arms covered most of her upper body.
When he sat in front of her, she had to look almost straight up to see his face.
(As expected of a god. Even his body is grand.)
She gazed up at his noble visage in admiration.
The God of War wore a gentle expression and enveloped her head with his massive palm.
“Tsuru tan jungo chū yū tetsu kei mu”
She didn’t know what he said, but his voice was calm—at the very least, he wasn’t angry at her rudeness.
His features were intimidating, but when he smiled, they softened greatly.
Feeling her heart warm, she smiled back.
“Uzu in san ho iso saka mine”
After cradling her head once more with his large hand, the god stood.
Then, with heavy zushin zushin steps, he walked away.
“Um… what should I…?”
When she called out, the god turned back and made a pushing motion with his hand, as if to say, “Stay in bed.”
Was he kindly allowing her to sleep longer?
Since her body truly felt hard to move, she gratefully remained on the cloud-like, fluffy fabric.
Now, she took a proper look around.
(My, this fluffy bed has no wooden frame!)
Upon closer inspection, what she had been sleeping on wasn’t a bed at all—just fabric laid directly on the floor.
And this was no ordinary cloth.
(Amazing… using such fine fabric so freely… is it stuffed with wool, perhaps?)
She had heard that noble bedding used wool, but to make it this fluffy—how many sheep would they need to shear?
The fabric encasing the wool was woven with terrifying precision, the threads uniform and tight—surely the work of a master artisan.
Even royalty might not possess bedding this smooth.
Both the pillow and the rest were so luxurious that she wanted to bury her face in them.
Having only ever slept on straw, she felt almost unworthy and let out a sigh.
Then, she looked again at what she had thought was fur draped over her—and gasped.
(This is a blanket!? No, but… it really is a blanket… how in the world did they make it like fur!?)
The blankets she knew were woven with wool threads, but this one had fine fibers standing upright, woven like an animal pelt.
She couldn’t even imagine the technique used to create such a marvelous item.
When she stroked it, it felt just like the velvet she had worn once during a ceremony—smooth and rich.
No—perhaps even better than that velvet.
Just touching it made her hand melt with pleasure.
The texture was so exquisite she could stroke it forever.
To let her sleep under something so marvelous—what a broad-hearted being a god must be.
She clasped her hands and offered a prayer of gratitude to the god.
(Over here… incredible! Is it woven from grass?)
Her gaze shifted to the floor where the bedding lay.
What seemed like grass was meticulously woven, with beautifully embroidered cloth wrapped around the edges.
The rectangular mats covered the entire room, giving off a refreshingly clean scent—like being in a meadow.
When she touched it, the surface was smooth; not a speck of dirt or dust.
No wonder one could sleep comfortably even without a canopy to keep out dust.
She carefully crawled out from the cloud-like bedding.
Then she moved toward the sunlight.
(Strange… shutters…?)
A wooden frame crisscrossed vertically and horizontally, stretched with pure white material.
“…Paper!!”
She touched it, thinking it might be thin cloth, and cried out in surprise.
In the human world, parchment was used; “paper” from southern lands was still rare.
The paper she knew was thick, rough to the touch, and a dingy gray.
Yet this paper was a pristine white like a god’s robe, thin enough for sunlight to pass through—
and still strong enough to inspire no worry about tearing.
Truly, the technique of a noble god.
“Breakfast soon? Want some?”
Startled by the voice while she was still marveling, she jumped.
“!!!!”
In that instant, her finger plunged zubot straight through the paper.
“Aaaaaah!! Aaaah!!”
She had damaged a god’s dwelling.
Screaming, she yanked her finger back, but the spotless white paper was cruelly torn.
“I-I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!!”
Without hesitation, she pressed her forehead to the floor and begged forgiveness.
Damaging a god’s property was unforgivable.
She could not complain, no matter what divine punishment came.
“Hic… I-I’m truly sorry! Uuu, I’m sooorry!!”
Fear made tears pour from both eyes.
Even her nose—unbefitting a fifteen-year-old girl in her prime—started running.
“Uuuu, I’m sorry, sorry…”
A large hand lifted her once more.
“Okay, okay. Don’t cry anymore.”
She was casually hoisted up and—reverently—placed on the God of War’s lap.
Her face was gently wiped with an impossibly soft, gauze-thin cloth.
“G-God-sama…”
Despite how expensive it looked, sheet after sheet was used; when one grew damp, it was replaced, and she was carefully cleaned.
Looking up, the God of War gazed at her with kind black eyes.
“Blow.”
He held a thin cloth to her nose.
“???”
When she tilted her head, again—
“Blow.”
“??? …B-Blow.”
Thinking he wanted her to imitate, she blew timidly—and the remaining snot shot out.
Hardly proper for a modest maiden.
She panicked, but the God of War gently wiped away what had flown.
Then, as if praising a job well done, his large hand stroked her head.
Once tears and snot were gone, a wondrous fragrance tickled her nostrils.
(W-What is this!? A scent I’ve never smelled, yet I know without doubt it will be delicious!!)
The sheer deliciousness of the aroma made her sniff kun kun the air—
and her stomach let out a plaintive cry.
“!!!!”
She hurriedly pressed her belly, but the sound refused to stop.
It only grew louder, proclaiming hunger.
To be shamed like this before a god—and by her own insides, no less.
Clutching her rumbling stomach, she curled up.
“Alright, let’s eat.”
Her head was stroked again.
When she looked up, the God of War pulled over a red-lacquered tray.
Atop it sat a thick bowl, steaming hot.
He placed a cloth from the tray over the bowl and lifted the lid.
“FuwAAAA~”
The fragrant steam spread, and she couldn’t help crying out.
Inside were steaming white grains, some leaves, probably carrot, and translucent vegetables, and…
“M-Meat!!”
Not the shape she knew—it was round—but unmistakable.
When had she last eaten meat?
Two months ago, at New Year’s, in a faint chicken broth with mere scraps.
Yet in the god’s bowl floated three whole chunks.
Faced with such a sight, the worm in her belly became an orchestra.
Why did one stomach produce so many sounds?
(The God of War is about to eat…)
She desperately swallowed the drool unfit for a maiden.
(I mustn’t stare. It’s rude. B-But my eyes, my eyes won’t look away!!!)
Staring at someone’s meal was improper—she had to stop.
Yet no force of will could peel her gaze from the delicious-looking meat.
The God of War scooped a spoonful from the ceramic bowl—luxurious in appearance—
and blew fuu fuu to cool it.
(Aaaah~ it looks too delicious~! So glossy, shining… the meat and vegetables’ scents blending… aaaah, this smell I’ve never known yet irresistibly stirs appetite!! Truly divine food!)
She stared dreamily at the spoon—
And to her shock, it drew closer to her.
(I-If you bring it that close to my mouth… m-my self-control, my self-control…!)
She pushed her restraint to maximum to keep from lunging at the spoon like a frog snapping at prey.
“Here, open wide. Want more?”
As if teasing her, the spoon tapped chon chon against her lips.
“F-F-F…”
Her self-control was on the verge of shattering.
Her lips parted with a strange sound.
“Open wide.”
The God of War said it again.
“?”
When she looked up, drool was already spilling even with her mouth closed, and he burst out laughing.
“Open wide.”
With the gentlest smile imaginable, the god repeated it.
She figured he wanted her to imitate.
“A-A~… n.”
The moment her mouth opened, the spoon darted in faster than she could lunge.
“!!!!!!!!!!”
She clutched her cheeks.
A flood of saliva had poured out, making the back of her jaw tingle with pain.
Delicious.
Too delicious.
How could she even describe this taste she had never known?
She only knew salt as seasoning—this was beyond her.
The moment the thick liquid coated her tongue, every pore from head to toe opened in bliss.
Her whole body rejoiced at the overwhelming flavor.
When she chewed, a mellow sweetness spread.
Those white grains.
What an incredibly rich ingredient.
She wanted to savor it longer, but her throat rebelled, demanding more, and she swallowed glk.
A waste, yet the warm, soft slide down her throat was irresistible.
“D-Delishious!!!”
She cried out without thinking.
Did such delicious food exist in the world?
No—this was the realm of gods, so of course.
As expected of a god.
Gods are amazing.
She gazed up at him with utmost reverence.
“Open wide.”
And unbelievably, a second spoonful approached her mouth.
The word restraint had vanished from her mind.
The second bite was just as earth-shatteringly good.
She had swallowed the first too quickly, so she tried to savor this one—but the flavor overwhelmed her, and glk it went down.
“…!!!”
Then she witnessed it.
The god’s spoon scooped up a small piece of meat.
(No way, no way, no way…)
Her eyes locked onto the meat on the spoon.
It slowly neared her mouth.
“Open wide.”
He said it again.
She lunged at the spoon with speed that would shame a frog.
(Meat…! Meat…!! Meat…!!! Delicious! Delicious! Delicious~~~)
Her jaw nearly burst from the surge of saliva.
She clutched her cheeks and trembled over the meat.
Salty, and it crumbled softly when chewed.
She didn’t know what animal, but it was delicious.
So delicious, tears welled up.
“You okay!?”
The God of War leaned in, startled.
“Delicious.”
She spoke with her mouth full.
“Delishious… so delishious…”
With every chew, umami flooded her mouth—she could say nothing else.
When she swallowed, the flavor soaked into her entire body.
The spoon returned with more meat as she trembled in awe.
“Delishious… delishious…”
She had fully devolved into a frog-person, choking out “delicious” between sobs while leaping at every spoonful.
The meat was divine, but the vegetables were rich and flavorful too.
They tasted packed with nutrition.
And the faintly sweet, soft white grains that cradled the meat and vegetables were unbearably good.
Ah, this really was heaven.
What a wonderful world she had been welcomed into.
If the afterlife was this splendid, she had wronged the gravely ill and injured.
They must have wanted to reach here even a second sooner, yet she had prolonged their lives with prayers and dances.
Had she done something terrible?
Or, considering she was now in heaven, perhaps not?
Lost in thought over the magnificent meal, she somehow became full and began drifting back to sleep.
Interrupting such a meal was unthinkable.
She fought to fit one more bite into her stomach, but a gentle hand patted her back pon pon at steady intervals.
(Ah… at least say thank you… falling asleep mid-meal… I must apologize…)
Despite her intentions, her eyelids won, and she finally closed her eyes.
Translator’s Note (Chapter 1):
The Saintess cannot understand modern Japanese. All dialogue from Zen’ichi is translated into English for the reader’s benefit, but she hears only incomprehensible sounds. Her reactions and thoughts reflect total linguistic isolation.