"Once one enters Iron Maiden, death does not come quickly." Elisabeth spoke over the horrifying screams, clearly unbothered. Turning toward Kaito, she offered a suggestive smile. "If you insist on dying again, then there's no helping it. I am nothing if not generous, after all, so I will grant your wish. But I will not simply return you to a state of death. If you desire death so badly, you will have it by way of my methods. So. What path will you choose? Will you become my butler, or will you become meat?" "Butler, please." "Well, that was fast." That was how Kaito came to serve the Torture Princess. Which brings us to the present. "This! Is! Vile!" In tandem with this spirited protest, the heart roast with potherb garnish and fruit vinegar sauce Kaito had made went flying through the air, accompanied by plate and fork. A dangerous rain of food and cutlery pelted the antique tablecloth. Continuing her tirade, Elisabeth planted a foot on the table with a stomp. "Wh-what is this? It's absolutely repulsive. It looks palatable, yet the meat is undercooked, and it has the texture of rubber. The sauce somehow takes on the organ's peculiar odor, and the odd sweet and sour flavors create a horrific harmony that lingers on the tongue. It's almost impressive, in a way." "Your description is what's impressive." With dead eyes, Kaito yanked the fork out of the wall it had impaled. He wondered where she found the nerve to give such harsh criticism. A few days had passed since he'd been strong-armed into becoming her butler. Such outbursts had scared him at first, but given that he'd lived his whole life a hairbreadth from death anyway, he quickly got used to it. Still clad in his unflattering butler uniform, Kaito heaved a sigh. "Like I keep saying, you don't need to throw it at me. What are you, some abusive husband from the sixties?" "I know not of any sixty abusive husbands, but food that vile deserves to be thrown! What do you call this?! It is so unpalatable even pig fodder would be preferable! How is it that all your dishes are this vile?!" "You kept complaining about the odor, so I thought I'd try using wine this time to offset it." "...Hold on. Do you mean to tell me that you used my prized wine to create this filth?" Kaito decided that silence was golden. Not needing an answer, Elisabeth waved her hand. A chair sprang up beneath Kaito's feet with a gong. He looked almost like a character in a cartoon as it scooped up his rear, then fastened him in place with belts. When he looked, it was clear that the seat and armrests were lined with holes made for needles, pins, and spikes. Abandoning his cool demeanor, he kicked his legs in a panic. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Let's talk this over. Think about it. I've never cooked anything before, and you're asking me to cook organs?" "Save your excuses. As an aside, is that any way to talk to me, the Torture Princess? You have some nerve. Perhaps you'll have time to reflect on your arrogance as you're being riddled with holes, hmm?" "I'm sorry! Look, ever since I got killed, it's been kind of hard to register feelings like fear or danger! I'm sorry, okay? Can we just skip the torture?" "Very well. I shall grant you mercy...or so I would like to say, but do you mean to tell me that you only respect me out of fear?" "Well, uh, that's not...not true..." "What, no excuse, then, Kaaaito?" As he shouted that he wanted to take it back, Kaito's fate dawned on him. He was going to become a human pincushion. However, Elisabeth seemed to reconsider, and as she snorted, the Iron Chair vanished. "Very well. In my infinite generosity, I shall grant you one last chanceâ€”I demand pudding." "...Pudding?" Her comical order was placed with a straight face, and Kaito cocked his head in puzzlement. Elisabeth nodded, then crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, her face full of conviction. "I have my doubts as to whether a fool who can't even cook will be able to handle confectionery, you see. But perhaps you'll have a knack for sweets. It won't hurt to try. And if even that is beyond you, then, like anything that does naught but produce trash, you will simply be disposed of." "Please don't talk about disposing of people. It hits a little too close to home. Pudding, right? I think I know what you're talking about... Though where I'm from, it sounds more like purin." "Purin? I know not of this dish, but from the sound of the name, there should at least be a vague similarity, no?" Kaito nodded at her half-hearted answer. As a matter of fact, he had strong memories associated with that dish. Long ago, the woman living with his father at the time had served it for young Kaito. He'd been overjoyed, and she met his glee with a forced smile. The next day, she was gone. Thinking back on it, he realized that it had probably been meant as atonement for leaving him behind and escaping on her own. Even now, the memory of that rare moment of happiness was vivid. And he more or less remembered how she'd made it. He could re-create it with the ingredients available in the kitchen, but the cookware was lacking. He returned to Elisabeth. "Hey, Elisabeth. You can make golems out of mud, so do you think you could make an earthenware pot?" "Is that something you would ask of the person considering disposing of you? What a frightening fellow you are. Very well. What is this ursine-wear pot you speak of?" With his limited linguistic talents, Kaito tried explaining what an earthenware pot was. Elisabeth snapped her fingers, a perplexed expression on her face. A moment later, soft footsteps echoed through the corridor. The door to the dining room creaked open. Behind it was a small golem, composed of rectangular lumps of earth. It waved good-bye, then suddenly collapsed, leaving behind a pile of mud. "Whâ€”? Hey wait, Elisabeth; what did you just do? Don't you feel bad for it?" "Do not pity it. Contrary to what you may think, it possessed no will. Now, a pot, was it?" The mud squirmed, eventually settling into the shape of a pot. Kaito followed up on his explanation, saying how it needed to be shorter and rounder and how it needed a hole to let out steam. The mud shifted again, and after a period of trial and error, it finally reached a shape Kaito recognized. "That mud is quite heat tolerant. While I'm still unsure of what you intend to do with it, use it as you please." "Thanks. That's a big help." Taking great care not to drop it, Kaito returned to the kitchen with the pot. He filled it with water, then added the wheat and put it on the fire. By doing so, he could plug up the fine holes that had formed in the pot. Next, he heated some milk in a saucepan and melted sugar into it. Once it cooled, he added one whisked egg, then he stirred gently to avoid making bubbles. He greased the earthenware pot with butter, then scraped the egg mixture in with a clean towel. But this was where it got tricky. He had to put the lid on, then let it simmer for ten to fifteen minutes. He placed a net over the stove and laid the pot on top of it, but he had no faith in his ability to regulate the fire. "So how am I going to...? Huh? Wait, this works?" It appeared that the earthenware pot Elisabeth had made was incredibly heat tolerant. Even though the stove was blazing hot, the amount of heat the pot was receiving was the exact right temperature to simmer the mixture. The rest was up to luck. Soon, a sweet aroma began wafting through the kitchen. To cool the pot down, Kaito carried it to the ice-spirit fridge. He let it cool for ten minutes, then brought it to the dining room. To his surprise, Elisabeth was waiting for him patiently. She must not have had anything better to do. "Hmm? Well, this is a surprise. I thought you'd make a run for it." "Well, thanks to you, it turned out all right. See for yourself." Kaito placed the earthenware pot before her. Elisabeth craned her neck inquisitively. She seemed to be waiting for him to remove the lid. Kaito grabbed the handle and did so, causing a sweet aroma to waft through the air. Upon seeing the pale-yellow substance contained within, Elisabeth cocked her head to the side. "What is this? This is not pudding." "Huh, they really were different, then. This here is purin. It's the version of 'pudding' I'm familiar with." "Purin, you say. Hmm." Parroting his word back at him, Elisabeth took a spoon and scooped out a mouthful. She frowned dubiously at it as it jiggled back and forth, then she put the spoon in her mouth. After a moment of silence, she took another spoonful. "This is quite strange...or rather... Yes...it's so very...wobbly...and syrupy." Elisabeth brought spoonful after spoonful to her mouth, eating with relentless vigor. In no time at all, the earthenware pot was empty. Her spoon clattered on the table. "I approve!" "I've been approved." Elisabeth smiled, her expression gleaming with satisfaction, as if to tell him that he was capable of anything he set his mind to. For a moment, Kaito envisioned a pair of cat ears flopping atop her luxurious black hair. For someone who's liable to torture others at the drop of a hat, she's surprisingly straightforward. Just as those words creeped into Kaito's mind, Elisabeth snapped her fingers. Afraid that she'd seen through his thoughts, he braced himself for the Iron Chair to appear. A chessboard made of red light glowed before him, no doubt magically conjured by Elisabeth. Seeing Kaito's eyes widen in surprise, Elisabeth spoke. "It seems you're not entirely useless. In light of this, I shall impart unto you some information about your current situation." Elisabeth waved a pale hand. The chessboard began spinning toward Kaito. As he leaned back, the board stopped, and her voice adopted a singsong tone. "Rejoice, for knowledge is power. 'Tis the fate of ants and the ignorant to have their lives played with. 'Tis by obtaining knowledge that men surpass insects and become beasts, then become humans, and at times surpass even God." Two large pieces appeared above the chessboard, one black, the other white. Both were adorned with wings. As they floated, Elisabeth pointed at them. "In this world, God and Diablo are both very real. They exist in a higher realm, where human eyes cannot reach, but their existence has been proved by theologists, scholars, and mages. Of course, God and Diablo are no more than names we assigned them for the sake of convenience. We call the entity who created the world 'God' and that which destroys it 'Diablo.' Hence Diablo can only interfere with the world of man once God has abandoned it. But there is an exception. If Diablo has a contractor, all bets are off." "A contractor?" "Those who use their bodies as intermediaries to summon Diablo into our dimension, where it cannot normally exist, and form a contract with it. Diablo then fuses with them and corrupts their form, but in return they obtain power they can use as they wish. But summoning Diablo, who possesses enough power to destroy the entire world, is no small feat, and there is no one vessel that can contain it, so it has yet to manifest. However, even its fragments possess great power, and those exist in our world today." The black