The Nihility Chef

Alice and Sami had arrived at the royal palace. For Sami, this was a sight unlike any other. The spires, towering high into the heavens, pierced the clouds, their surfaces entwined with statues of black western dragons. These stone beasts coiled around the spires, their golden eyes gleaming ominously, while fiery auras flickered from their nostrils, casting waves of warmth over the capital in the crisp autumn air.

As the carriage approached the entrance, Sami felt the weight of those gilded eyes following them, an eerie yet regal presence. The palace itself was a masterpiece—its silver facade gleamed under the midday sun, radiating an almost holy luminance. Upon entering, they were greeted by a row of bronze statues, each depicting warriors from different eras. Below each effigy, engraved inscriptions narrated their legends—these were the heroes of Britannia. The pathway leading further into the palace was crafted from polished black stone, its surface speckled with embedded diamonds that twinkled like the night sky, a celestial road beneath their feet.

As they ventured deeper, the grandeur of the palace revealed itself. Golden fountains gushed streams of shimmering water, while vast murals adorned the walls, each illustrating the great wars of Britannia's past. One mural stood out above all—the largest, most imposing piece of art in the corridor. It depicted five warriors locked in battle against an endless tide of enemies. Though their bodies bore wounds, their armor rent and spirits visibly strained, their eyes burned with an unbreakable will.

Beneath the painting, an inscription read:

Five against the world. Their bodies battered, their spirits weary, yet their resolve unshaken. These five are the heroes of Britannia. Their story is eternal, their names forever spoken: Brego, Forte, Heorte, Fyre, and ?????

The last name was viciously scratched out, its identity lost to time. Yet Sami recognized the others—they were the surnames of the royal family and the three great ducal houses. But who was the fifth?

The mural faded behind them as the carriage rolled forward. Just as Sami settled back in his seat, Alice suddenly seized his hand, pulling him out of the carriage and sprinting toward the palace.

"Before my birthday festivities begin, let me give you a tour! You've never been here before, after all!" Alice called over her shoulder.

Before Sami could protest, he was dragged through the sprawling palace grounds, shown all manner of wondrous sights.

"Look! This is the armory!"

A vast collection of weapons and armor sprawled before him—greatswords, bows, daggers, hammers, axes, and even... whips? One whip in particular caught his attention. It was forged from dragon scales, each scale gleaming with an ominous sheen. A terrifying weapon, indeed.

Using Nihility's Eye, Sami discerned an array of hidden treasures within the armory, yet none interested him. He had already chosen—he would forge the weapon described in his inheritance, one that would grow alongside him, possessing the same devouring properties as his physique.

Next, Alice led him to the Alchemist Pavilion. The palace had hired dozens of alchemists to refine pills and elixirs for the royal family.

Pills, elixirs, equipment, herbs, cultivation techniques, and spells were categorized into tiers, the exact same as cultivation realms:

Mortal 

Transcendence

Ascension

Monarch 

Sovereign

Celestial

Soulforge

Law

Saint

Tribulation

Heavenly (Eternal)

The higher the tier, the greater the cultivation required to wield it.

The pavilion was thick with an earthy aroma, the air so dense with alchemical smoke that it was difficult to see. Private rooms lined the hall, where alchemists worked in seclusion—creating pills required absolute concentration.

An apprentice, spotting the two children, quickly approached. "You two! Get out! Kids aren't allowed here! If an elder catches you, you'll be in serious trouble!"

Sami grabbed Alice's hand, and they hurriedly fled the pavilion, stumbling into a breathtaking garden. Flowers bloomed in concentric rings, each layer a different color.

The first ring held pristine white tulips—pure, holy, and radiant. The second ring was ablaze with red hibiscus flowers, their scarlet petals rippling like rubies caught in the wind. The third ring housed purple blossoms that shimmered with a soft glow, exuding an intoxicating fragrance that seemed to wash away all worries. The penultimate ring was adorned with blood-orange flowers, emanating a gentle warmth akin to a mother's embrace, their scent reminiscent of cinnamon.

And in the final ring—black flowers. Their somber beauty stood in stark contrast to the vibrant colors around them, exuding an aura of death and melancholy, a silent whisper of the inevitable end.

At the heart of the garden sat a woman, her back turned to them.

Before Sami could retreat, Alice called out joyfully, "Mother!"

Sami's mind reeled. Mother?

The woman turned, her emerald eyes shimmering with warmth. "Happy birthday, my sweet child. And this must be Samael, I assume?" Her gaze rested on him, gentle yet knowing. "Alice never stops mentioning you. Thank you for being her friend."

Alice flushed scarlet. "Motherrr!" she whined.

"Samael, this is my mother, Elizabeth."

Sami bowed slightly. "Hello, Ms. Elizabeth."

"Just call me Auntie," Elizabeth said, her voice smooth and kind, a smile gracing her lips.

"Yes, Auntie."

As he approached, Sami took in her presence fully. Elizabeth was ethereal. Her raven-black hair cascaded down her back, a striking contrast to her porcelain skin, like the perfect balance of yin and yang. Her beauty was unworldly, refined beyond mortal comprehension.

Her figure was elegant and mature. The viridian dress she wore hugged her form, accentuating her graceful curves, while her long, toned legs peeked through the flowing fabric. Yet beyond her physical beauty, what stood out most was the aura she exuded—a warmth so safe, so nurturing, it was like standing beneath the gentle sun.

"Auntie, why are you out here instead of in the Great Hall?" Sami asked.

Elizabeth's smile remained, but a trace of sorrow flickered in her emerald eyes. "My body is weak. I have always been sickly... and since giving birth to my precious Alice, my condition has worsened."

As she spoke, Alice's expression crumpled, tears welling in her eyes. Her mother—the only person in the palace who truly loved her—was fading, and there was nothing she could do. Her father, despite granting Elizabeth the title of Marquess, had long since abandoned her. Nobles and even palace servants treated her with neglect and disdain.

All she could do was tend to her flowers... and wait for the inevitable.

Sami leaned in, whispering gently, "Don't cry, Alice. When we grow stronger, we will save your mother. I will ask my father for help, too."

Alice sniffled, the despair in her eyes replaced with newfound determination. She vowed in her heart—she would save her mother. She would free her from the chains of the royal family.

"Thank you, Samael," she murmured, her fingers tightening around his hand.