The Abandoned Saint's Happy Feeding Life - Chapter 7

Her third awakening began inside a dream.

Rising pitch-black.

Not shadow opposing light.

Bottomless swamp-like—pure endless darkness.

A wretched existence that could not be purified, only erased.

Why born, where from—unknown.

But its presence was detectable.

(Three… born…? No, hiding inside something… Here, so full of divine aura—how can that exist?)

The black lurked in some shadow.

(…A cavity in the divine aura…? Wants in…? But can’t move alone… stains a host… incites…? What is the host…?)

She tried to see better, loud noise interfered.

(Wait… not yet… mustn’t wake…)

Awake, her eyes dominated—couldn’t see this clearly.

She fought to maintain the state—but the noise pushed her body toward full wakefulness.

(Ah… no…)

Dandan—the sound yanked her fully back.

“What the hell!!”

Anger at the awakening noise—Asha bolted upright.

Only in the border between sleep and wake could she leave her body and “see” around.

Too deep sleep or full wake—impossible.

She couldn’t control it—this might’ve been a once-in-a-lifetime chance!

(That black could be a danger to Zen-sama!!)

Fuming, she glared toward the sound.

Someone dared pound the god’s dwelling hard enough to creak the house.

Each knock made the paper door tremble.

(Insolent wretches!!)

Anyone disrespecting such a magnificent god must be crushed.

Asha clenched her fists, stoked her fighting spirit, and crawled from the wonderful bed.

The sliding door was heavy—hard to open—but, pushing and pulling, she made a finger-width gap and managed.

Shouting while pounding the god’s home.

Following the sound, she found Zen carrying a large cylinder about an arm’s span wide.

(Carrying… water?)

Shape differed from known water jugs—but was similar to them.

Chapu chapu water sounds.

Where Zen headed: opaque glass with a wooden frame outside.

Multiple shadows reflected—yelling angrily, pounding the frame.

(Ma… pounding such large glass… don’t they know value…? Monsters?)

Asha frowned.

Frosted glass—the size of the frameless bed she’d slept in.

Only select workshops made large glass—expensive.

Farmers might never see glass in life.

She stared at the door shadows.

(No good… can’t see without direct view.)

Outside, shadows shouted something language-like—maybe not monsters.

While observing, Zen stepped down to the perfectly uniform tiled floor one level below the wood.

“…?”

What for the water in one hand?

Head tilted watching—next instant, he slid the glass sideways with one hand.

(It was a door!!)

Another sliding door.

Using glass as a door—luxurious, bold—no time to think.

The moment opened—figures avalanche in.

Tried to—but water blasted from the swung cylinder hit them like an unleashed river in heavy rain.

One luckily escaped behind the door shadow escaped—but charged, yelling, got the cylinder thrown, flew back.

Looked far more painful than water.

(As expected of the God of War!!)

Asha gazed in admiration at the slick repulse.

Zen calmly stepped outside, spoke to the pounders.

The insolent disturbers stuck to the ground, listening to the god.

“Flat.”

Asha’s honest reaction slipped out.

(Humans…? But insanely flat…)

Bipedal, five fingers.

No third eye, no split mouth.

Skin slightly smoky, yellowish—but not abnormal.

Just… every face there was relentlessly, utterly flat.

Eyes and nose base aligned straight on a plane.

Nose rose somewhat—half-hearted height, cheeks spread wide.

Faces pulled sideways.

Forehead and jaw flat curves—no grip.

No brow depression—brows and eyes far apart, adding to the stretched look.

(No… demonic energy and… faint miasma—so probably not human. Talking to Zen-sama—intelligent… subhuman?)

Suddenly yelling mid-god-speech—intelligence present, but low.

God urged departure—yet when he returned and closed the door, they resumed cursing and pounding.

God’s deep mercy settled for water—such disrespect.

“Stay calm. It’s okay.”

Zen ignored the subhumans, smiled gently, and stroked Asha.

(I’ll blast them away!)

At that compassionate hand—Asha resolved.

She worried about how far this goblinized body could go.

Magic and divine aura opposed each other.

Could a goblin body-wielding magic manipulate divine aura?

Her usual staff—aid for channeling divine aura wasn’t here.

But this place overflowed with a divine aura seeping from the ground.

(Eight years continuously invoking divine aura—there’s no way I can’t do it.)

Asha jumped from the wooden floor to the tiles.

Divine aura dwelt in the earth.

Closer to Earth made gathering easier.

Weak goblin legs buckled—she clenched her belly, endured.

“Stay back. Dangerous.”

Zen reached worriedly.

“No need to worry! I’ll crush them!”

Asha declared confidently.

Words wouldn’t reach—but intent would.

Slightly troubled, Zen watched over her.

Tiles cold enough to steal heat—yet amazingly smooth.

Good for dancing.

Ton ton—she hopped, tested the goblin’s body.

(…What a frail, hard-to-move body…)

Still—she’d succeed.

Repaying the god who treated her so well.

(Light to repel evil and purify.)

Asha closed her eyes, felt a rising circular array inside.

Stepped precisely on the divine aura gushing from the ground.

Drew it in, sent to the array center.

Body remembered how.

Weak aura—raised hands, slammed down, circulated, wove with others.

Too strong—spun body, stretched thin.

Movements looked like a dance, called “Saintess’s Dance.”

To those who could “see,” a woven aura spread like thin cloth—brilliant dance.

But what Asha wove now surely didn’t look like thin cloth.

(…Heavy… such heavyweight divine aura… just drawing it saps strength.)

Immense reserves—drawing alone was grueling, couldn’t stretch properly.

Wouldn’t move as willed.

Felt like swinging a giant serpent.

Normally, aura is softly layered in the center—now like piling chains.

Goblin’s body indeed had limits.

“Ha!!”

No point refining an unmanageable amount.

With a battle cry, full force, she unleashed a divine aura at the subhumans pounding on the door.

“Gyaa!!!”

“Hiii!!!”

Short screams—subhumans beyond the door blown away.

Some wore miasma—wanted to open the door and check—but strength fled their legs.

Collapsed Besha onto the tiles.

(What…? One dance and this… impossible…)

Terrifying exhaustion.

Even dancing half a day nonstop has never been like this.

Beyond tired—couldn’t muster strength.

Couldn’t even hold upper body—about to slump.

Posun—body caught.

Clean, cloth-wrapped, warm, strong chest.

(Smells like flowers…)

Gave delicious food freely, cleaned her body.

Now lifted pathetic goblin so preciously.

Weakened in one go—yet proud she could protect him.

“From now on, I’ll crush them!”

No more carrying water.

Asha could be useful.

Raised fist to show—Zen grinned, white teeth flashing.

Patted her head again, yoshi yoshi.

Back in bed—she couldn’t even sit up.

(Goblin body took damage…?)

Used harshly before—never bedridden.

Couldn’t lift head—unbearably anxious.

(Why did I become a goblin anyway?)

Never heard dying to heaven made people goblins.

(Come to think… why did I die…?)

Survived countless expeditions where people died—unbelievable she died.

(I swore to survive no matter what.)

Fact of death clear—yet memory fogged when recalled.

Always acted to survive absolutely.

Impossible tasks, made royal fiancée, bullied, during the great stampede.

Gritted teeth, thought only survival—did survive.

(Huh…?)

Eyes closed, trying to remember death, she opened them at an odd feeling.

(What… was I surviving for…?)

Stunned.

Strong will to survive—remembered.

Why—couldn’t.

Belief hung in the air—overwhelming anxiety.

Core hollowed out.

Like grass uprooted.

No earth to root—wilt, crumble.

“Asha.”

Gentle voice to her, clutching herself protectively.

At once, an appetizing aroma filled the room, hitting the stomach.

On his tray—same bowl as morning.

(N-No way, no way!!! Meat again!? Meat!!? Meat twice in one day!? Too luxurious!?)

Anxiety is powerless before meat.

Moments ago, it had swallowed her—driven out in an instant.

Zen gently sat her up, placed a cushion behind her back.

Seeing Asha’s eyes glued to the bowl, he chuckled, removed the lid.

“Ah…!!”

No seductive meat inside.

But her eyes sparkled.

Instead—dodoon—a dazzling golden lump.

“E-Egg!!”

Soft half-boiled yolk wrapped in melting white.

Twice a month, half-only ultra-rare egg—lounging whole, served with carrots and onions.

Egg rivaled meat as a favorite—she’d dreamed of eating one whole.

What fortune.

Zen deftly used two thin sticks to move vegetables and white stuff from a small plate.

White things—pinkie-thick, very long, glossy.

He grabbed them with one hand, using just the sticks—amazing.

(As expected of a god. So skillful…)

Impossible for Asha.

Admiring—yet worried: sticks can’t pick an egg? Maybe egg is not for the mouth?

Heart raced.

While Zen fuu fuu cooled the plate, she kept glancing at the egg.

“Asha, open wide.”

Distracted by the egg, she opened reflexively.

“!!!!”

White thing entered—eyes widened.

First-time purun texture.

Thicker umami than morning’s liquid.

Saliva flooded Juwa.

Bite—softly accepted, gently melted.

Throat couldn’t resist—Goku—smooth, kind sensation slid down.

Warm, delicious, irresistible throat feel.

“U-don. Asha, open wide.”

This tasty, smooth thing was “udon.”

If body moved freely—she’d pounce.

Zen cut long “udon” into bite-sized, fed her.

Before “open wide,” she opened like a baby bird.

Mouth panting haku haku—Zen smiled, amused, fed “udon.”

Vegetables too—flavor-soaked, crumbled horo in the mouth without chewing.

Delicious, unbearably delicious—but the egg in the bowl still worried her.

Then—soft laugh beside.

Smiling Zen switched sticks for a spoon, finally scooped the egg.

Steaming egg on a small plate.

Zen with sticks again—skillfully halved it.

“~~~~~!!!”

Golden yolk oozed toro—Asha trembled.

Impatient drool rushed lips.

“Ta-ma-go.”

He said, quartered half, fed her.

“~~~~~~~!!!”

This egg—far richer than any she’d eaten.

Perfectly soft-boiled yolk spread toro, mixed with tasty broth, left a strong flavor on the tongue.

Bite—more intense yolk burst in the mouth.

First time this is delicious.

“…Oishii yoo…”

If body moved—she’d dance.

“Open wide.”

Trembling in awe—next egg came.

What luxury.

What bliss.

Egg ended—deep regret—but offered next: “udon” coated in remaining yolk on a small plate.

“…”

Already delicious just looking.

Mouth closed in tension—egg richness, toro broth, “udon” gentle sweetness spread.

“~~~!!!”

Undeniably delicious.

Eating this—when die, why didn’t want to die—trivial.

Dead now—very happy.

Between delicious bites—fruit water naturally offered.

No matter how greedily—no “vulgar”—the more she ate, the happier the god.

Goblin or not—picked up by such a kind god—definitely happy.

(“Udon,” “tamago,” “furobasu,” “Zen”)

She repeated learned words in her head.

She’d work hard to learn god’s language.

Not just words.

Learn, understand much about god’s world.

Repay the kindness of this delicious food—absolutely.

Can’t promise what yet—but find a way to be useful.

For now, escape a weak goblin who collapses after one dance: eat plenty, build body.

(Must… work hard…)

But sadly, fragile body—stamina gone fast.

Stomach full of delicious food.

(This… just eat-sleep… more… study…)

Eyelids ignored will—dropped.

Finishing blow—a large hand gently stroked Asha’s head.

Words didn’t reach—but “good job” did.

Full approval of eat-sleep—supremely merciful pat.

(Ah… too good…)

Thus, she fell asleep a third time.