The Abandoned Saint's Happy Feeding Life - Chapter 5
“Faa~”
She let out yet another sigh of wonder—she had lost count.
The god’s dwelling was truly incredible.
Glass, rarely used even in the grand cathedral, was placed everywhere, firmly supported by sturdy-looking metal frames.
The room, lit by light streaming through the glass, was covered wall-to-wall with glossy boards polished to perfection by artisans.
Mysterious objects filled every corner.
Bags of unknown material with intricate pictures.
A strange mat covered in protrusions, like a forest of mushrooms without umbrellas.
A huge metal box that occasionally hummed.
And orichalcum, the divine metal, used in various places—light yet hard, in vivid colors: eye-awakening blue, gold, pure white untouched by any dye. Just searching was fun.
This building, blending primal wood and divine orichalcum, was magnificent.
Having safely survived the assault of bodily functions, curiosity now tingling, she scurried choro choro around the God of War.
He watched her with a fond smile, occasionally glancing at a small metal plate while cooking.
A metal tube that spouted water.
A shelf that suddenly burst into flame.
A ceiling that whipped up wind.
A metal block that blew cold air.
The divine kitchen overflowed with wonders.
Amazingly, none used “God’s Grace.”
Proof: no magic swirled around the God of War.
He casually produced water, ignited fire, summoned wind, and released cold.
(God of War-sama is amazing!!)
Her admiration had no end.
At the same time, she deeply accepted—this was no longer the mortal world, but the realm of gods.
(I mustn’t trouble God of War-sama with every surprise! I need to observe and get used to it now!)
She wanted to help, but everything worked so differently from the mortal world, and the divine realm was too large. For now, all she could do was adapt and let her heart race at the sweet scent drifting from his hands.
(Ah~ such a sweet smell… could it be sugar…? Using something so precious without hesitation… will I get to partake too?)
Glancing at various things and stealing looks at his work, she rubbed her growling stomach kuu kuu.
She scolded herself for assuming she’d eat, but expectation only grew.
“A~…”
Staring hopefully at his back, the God of War suddenly turned and tilted his head.
He beckoned her over and crouched.
“Na-me. Name. What’s your name?”
He seemed to ask something—she didn’t understand.
She shook her head.
He thought for a moment, then pointed at himself.
“Zen.”
“???”
She shook her head again.
“Zen.”
He pointed at himself once more.
Imitate me?
“Zen.”
She pointed at him and said it—he nodded vigorously.
Then he pointed at her.
“???”
Point at God of War and say “Zen,” then point at her and—
“Ah!!!”
She finally realized.
“Asha!!!”
She answered enthusiastically.
Hearing it, the God of War—Zen—grinned, showing white teeth.
“Asha.”
Called by name, she nodded eagerly.
Hearing her name in his calm, wonderful voice made it feel precious.
Taken into the temple, her lowly name had been mocked and replaced with a strange one—but her real name was Asha, and she was happy.
“Asha, open wide.”
Zen smiled gently, speared a golden glowing food from his plate with a fork, and offered it.
She lunged without hesitation.
She had grown completely used to being fed.
People fall fast.
“Nnnnn~!!!”
Saliva gushed—she clutched her cheeks.
Sweetly stewed apple crumbled on her tongue, spreading blissful sweetness in her mouth.
Had she ever tasted anything this sweet in her life?
Happiness. This was the taste of happiness.
Unable to resist, she swallowed Goku—sweetness melted into her body, leaving refreshing tartness.
“Open wide.”
Lost in emotion, the next happiness arrived.
“Oishii… oishii…”
Happiness kept coming—she could only chew through tears.
“Asha.”
To her, trembling with joy alongside her digestive system, another seed of happiness was given.
A delicate glass cup—used only by chosen royalty and nobles.
Filled to the brim with liquid, the moment she held it, a soft apple scent wafted up.
(Could this be the legendary fruit water!?)
Her heart raced—she had never drunk such a thing.
She brought the pale yellow liquid to her lips without hesitation.
“~~~!!!”
Pleasant sweet-sourness spread in her mouth—tears and saliva welled up.
Drinks had only been water or faintly colored weak tea.
This was a stimulating beverage.
To think such delicious liquid would enter her mouth.
Memories of sipping muddy water to survive seemed purified.
The grated apple, together with the sweet liquid, raced through her body, dragging waves of emotion.
So delicious, she wished she could chew forever.
Light thirst helped—her throat wouldn’t stop.
It hydrated her while being this maddeningly tasty.
“Aa…”
The fruit water vanished in no time.
The sheer deliciousness made her want to lick the empty glass.
That would be utterly impolite—she clenched her fists and held back, but it was that good.
“More? Here.”
And then—true divine grace.
The empty glass was refilled to the brim with fruit water.
“Foooh!!”
She couldn’t help crying out in joy.
“Drink slowly, okay?”
Zen smiled niko niko as she pounced and started gulping.
She didn’t notice his smile stiffen slightly—she was too busy leaping at the luck of a second serving.
“Kep”
She downed the second cup without breathing, rubbed her cheeks, and savored the aftertaste.
“Good. Now… bath time.”
Watching her, Zen nodded and cleared his throat, gohon gohon.
“Asha, ba-th.”
“…?”
She tilted her head.
Zen scratched his head, mimed scrubbing his arms.
“???”
Still blank, she was pulled by the hand.
He opened a door.
Of course, it slid sideways.
(Water sound…?)
She had accepted the many unknown objects—big metal boxes and such—but water presence nearby.
“Ba-th. Bath.”
He pointed to a frosted-glass door.
On a shelf beside it: towels and the fruit water she just drank.
She expected another sliding door, but this one folded in half when pushed.
The divine world always went above expectations.
The moment it opened, humid hot air flowed out.
Curious, she peeked in.
The entire space was made of divine metal.
Shelves, containers—everything.
(Amazing… using orichalcum everywhere without hesitation…!!)
White and gray tones.
At the back: a huge tub.
Big enough for two gods—or ten Ashas.
Shockingly, it was filled with water.
No—hot, because her face felt the heat.
(That’s enough hot water to burn through the church’s entire firewood stock!!)
How much wood would it take to heat that?
Next to the tub: a small window leading to another identical space.
Someone was in there.
“Hii!!!”
Confirming the figure beyond, she gasped.
She dashed back to Zen.
“Zen-sama!! Goblin! There’s a goblin!!”
Her tongue hated her—it wouldn’t say “goblin” properly.
A monster living in a god’s residence—unthinkable.
Panicking, she jumped at him.
Barefoot from removing slippers earlier, Zen staggered but held steady.
“Calm down, it’s just a mirror. Look—see? That’s you.”
He spoke, patted her back pon pon to calm her, and lifted her.
“Hii!!”
Did Zen not notice the goblin? He walked in defenseless.
She clung tighter—he patted again, as if to say safe.
Still carrying her, Zen sat on a strange cylindrical object in the center.
“Goblin right there! Zen-sama!!”
She pointed urgently to warn the relaxed god—he nodded un un.
“Mirror. Mi-rror.”
And—to her horror—waved at the window.
(No time for leisure!!)
Those sneaky creatures would attack the moment—
She glared at the goblin beyond the window and froze.
Beyond the window: Zen holding a goblin, waving.
The goblin gripped the god’s clothes tightly, glaring back.
“Eh.”
No way—
She slowly let go of Zen’s clothes.
The goblin did the same.
She touched her face peta peta.
The goblin touched its silly face.
(No, no, no—!!!)
Zen put her down.
She wobbled toward the window.
The goblin wobbled toward her with unsteady steps.
Hair dry and lusterless, clumped like caterpillars from dirt and grime.
Skin not green, but patchy black.
Eyes sunken, bulging.
Body emaciated, skin stretched, bones visible.
Yet the belly protruded.
Hands and feet have bony, sharp lines.
Everything but color matched the goblins she’d seen on subjugation missions.
But this goblin wore the same clothes as the god.
Fabric bunched at the shoulders and tied, same color as what she wore now.
Trembling, she touched the window.
(It’s a mirror—!!!!)
Cold surface met her hand—she despaired.
(I’ve turned into a goblin—!!!)
Soul nearly left her mouth.
She never imagined a mirror this large and clear.
No—nobles had them, so of course a god would.
But who expects one casually stuck to the wall like a window?
Mirrors were expensive—gaudily decorated, placed prominently.
Not disguised as “just a window” on the wall.
And this mirror was several times clearer than the ones in noble houses, as if it captured the world itself.
(Why am I a goblin…?)
Not suspecting she was a goblin had kept her from noticing the mirror.
She had never heard “ascended to heaven and became a goblin.”
She stared at the demoralized goblin before her.
She hadn’t been much to look at before, but surely better than a goblin.
“Clothes off… okay?”
Zen spoke to her, still dazed and pressed against the mirror.
His eyes were full of kindness.
Even toward a goblin.
“Arms up? Like this.”
He raised both hands as if to say Copy me—She lifted hers like a puppet on strings.
(When I raise mine, the goblin raises its…)
She watched the mirror-goblin with despair.
Zen pulled up her clothes—revealing the goblin’s upper body.
Skin sank between ribs—ghastly.
Goblins were generally scrawny, but she had never seen one this wasted.
(Wait… when I was little…?)
Recent overwork had blurred childhood memories from the village, but rural kids might have looked like this.
A world apart from capital children.
Goblins were bony with potbellies—maybe from food scarcity.
(Sorry for mercilessly killing you without knowing your circumstances… but you eat live livestock and people, so maybe we’re even…?)
Lost in irrelevant thoughts, warm water poured over her—Zen diligently scrubbed with a thin cloth.
(Warm… thank you for not exterminating this goblin, Zen-sama.)
Zen could probably pulverize a goblin at her level with one bare fist.
Yet divine mercy was deep.
He fed this lowly being delicious food and now cleaned her with the care of polishing porcelain.
“Hair’s tangled… gently… shampoo, rinse… don’t pull…”
Muttering seriously, he spread flower-scented foam over her body again and again.
The foam popped putsu putsu the moment it touched her—mysterious.
Still reeling from shock, she moved as he directed, letting warm water rinse her.
“All clean…”
She only snapped out of her daze after multiple careful rinses—then was gently lowered into the huge tub.
Water reached just below her shoulders.
Head tilted back, he washed her hair, stroking repeatedly.
Zen’s face was utterly serious as he untangled the complex knots without pulling.
The water warmed her to the core—even her heart.
It was said hot water opened pores and let bad things in, so usually people wiped with a damp cloth.
Nobles avoided even that, using perfume.
As a saintess, superstition claimed she couldn’t get sick, and ritual required sacred spring ablutions—so she did enter water.
But never hot water—pores and all.
She never knew warm water felt this good.
Head warmed, combed—it was indescribably pleasant.
“Hafuu…”
A sigh escaped from pure comfort.
All tension melted—the fact she was a goblin felt irrelevant…
(No, no!! Not irrelevant at all!!)
She suddenly looked at her filthy body.
(At least! At least I must be clean!!)
Zen—divine Zen—was getting his clothes wet and dirty while diligently cleaning her.
Nothing could be done about becoming a monster, but a clean monster was surely better than a filthy one.
She lifted an arm to scrub herself.
“…?”
Part of the skin peeled up.
She timidly pinched it.
“!!!!”
It slid off Zuru.
(N-N-No way!!)
Other peeling spots came off the same.
(It’s grime—!!! All of it is grime!!!)
Her soul nearly fled again.
(I-I-I was covered in this much grime and defiling the god’s home!!!)
She thrashed her limbs wildly in the water.
“Whoa—calm down! You’ll slip!”
Zen looked shocked, but this was a bird-bath strategy.
Violent motion to strip grime.
“…What are you doing?”
She ignored the suspicious gaze.
(Ah—submerge completely!)
She inhaled deeply and plunged dobun.
“Waaa—! Don’t dunk!”
But she was yanked up before thrashing.
“Too much!”
She had overdone it—regret.
But grime coated her everywhere.
(Face too! Must clean!)
She scooped water basha basha onto her face—then, annoyed, dunked her face and scrubbed in the tub.
The clear water clouded fast; black clumps floated.
“Okay, out—enough.”
Still far from clean, she was lifted out.
Sat on the cylinder Zen had used earlier, draped in thick cloth.
“???”
Puzzled—then the same glass was handed over.
Filled to the brim with fruit water.
“Waa!!!”
Not overly cold, it soaked into her heated body.
The ultimate treat for her warmed body.
She cheered and drank.
The mirror still showed a goblin, but thanks to the fruit water, the shock was milder.
When empty, it was instantly refilled—utterly pampered.
While she leisurely savored the fruit water, Zen diligently drained the tub and cleaned it.
Feeling guilty for her filth, she met his eyes—he flashed a bright nika smile.
He foamed the tub, then rinsed it with water from a pipe hanging beside the mirror.
(I’m getting used to divine miracles…)
She nodded, satisfied that she could watch without much surprise.
But after a pipipi sound, hot water gushed from the tub’s bottom—she widened her eyes again.
(God’s tub fills itself with hot water… amazing!!!)
She still needed time to fully adapt.
Zen laughed at her staring, took the glass, and removed the cloth.
“Hair next.”
He mimed scratching his head.
Hair wash, surely.
She nodded—he guided her hands to her ears.
“Plug ears.”
He plugged his own.
“Close eyes!”
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Close eyes and ears, she understood—did so.
A large hand stroked her head.
Tilted upward, a soft cloth covered her closed eyes.
Her hair was gently washed.
(Hoaaaooo~)
She had never had her head touched, let alone washed—didn’t know it felt this good.
Head perfectly supported—no strain.
Scalp gently massaged—pleasant, sleepy.
Eyes closed, she was already half-asleep.
Occasional warm water on her body—cozy, dreamlike.
(Is it okay to let a god do this…?)
Drowsy, she wondered.
Normally, humans served—why was she treated so well?
Or because she was a goblin, it was fine?
(No, no, goblins should be even less deserving.)
Her last thought was a self-retort—then she plunged fully into sleep.
Goblin or not, naked and dead asleep while her head was washed.
Not proper for a fifteen-year-old maiden, but for a goblin—maybe permissible.
“Eh!? She fell asleep—?! Don’t drown! Wake up!! Wake up!!”
The god’s desperate shouts never reached her ears.