On the fourth day, a bard held his harp over the platform on the central trading sector of the empire and sang with a pale face and designed clothing marked with sweat. He was a special guest hired by the empire to envelop the glory of the king to the citizens.

“In a realm where justice reigns, my king stands strong, alleviating pains. Every citizen, a precious soul, he shields with love, making them whole. My king, our protector, our guide, for the glory of the empire, you preside. With unwavering resolve, you strive to spread your rulings, and justice to thrive.”

I’ve never heard such perfect nonsense in my entire life until now. Through shifts of sudden goosebumps, his baritone became a squeal of a tenor. I, who enfolded myself with a hooded veil, departed from the commotion with a clack as I stared at the visible palace over the nearby plateau. “Tsk!”

The Wallenstein’s manor neighbors the Dark Lair Forest. A river where I was once before fashioned transport conveniently. To infiltrate the empire, I needn't be shy. A rice-filled cargo would be my best disguise for entry. Some citizens knew Quimora, but our hair difference and her death gave me more freedom for my plans.

Due to the library being accessible only to nobles, I only had the tavern to gather information. However, unlike any other taverns I encountered before, nobles in their teens made up most of its population. Not to rant, but this made blending into the crowd easier.

“Are your family also invited to the grand bowl that will happen next Sunday?”

“No doubt! My father shall set his triumphs amongst his other fellows along the ranks.”

“I have a doubt though. If the place only invites nobles, who will cook then?”

“The servants!”

“Are there any servants that are nobles?”

“Maybe the wives then.”

“My mother doesn’t know how to cook.”

“So as mine.”

Both of the teenagers sighed before they drank their chugs of drink, and uttered, “Whatever. It’s not our problem.”

These renaissance kids have never encountered Gen Zs yet. In this case, the food may be pre-cooked before the ceremony starts. However, I can’t infiltrate the palace easily to poison the food. From the frequency of guards within the castle, and through this frail body, this is mission impossible.

While I fidgetted my fingers over the table I was in, a wench in a waitress suit appeared before me. She gave the menu from her arms and asked, “Good day, esteemed guest! I’m Cyrill, the waitress at the tavern. May I inquire about your preferred selection from our delectable menu?”

“Do you have any ice cream?”

“I’m sorry, madam. I’ve never heard of such a delicacy before.”

“Your godly sweet and delicious unknown was a famous dessert from our hometown. The breeze of scraped ice mixed with cream freezes every hotheaded being existing. Wherever you put it, or whatever fruit, shrimp, or exotic chemical you put over it, the freshness will completely pull your soul up to nirvana. Have you not heard of this enchanting pud before?”

“I completely apologize. Although I may not have heard of it, I would love to taste it.”

“A room.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

I removed my hood and remarked, “A completely private one. Let me stay in a room in this tavern for two weeks. As long as you have the ingredients, I suppose I’d be willing to provide you a recipe to a delicacy where your business will go ‘Boom!’” I exclaimed, clapping my hands and whispering ‘Woo.’

Cyrill swallowed before she stuttered, “W–We have ice.”

The owner offered to let me stay in a private room for two weeks in exchange for teaching the staff how to create ice cream. The moment we finished, my temptations forced me to get a scoop into my mouth. “Mmmm! Num! Delish! It’s really bussin'!”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

When I mentioned I didn’t have any cash, the owner provided me with a sack of coins exceeding the amount of my needs for two weeks. They edited the menu immediately and announced the newly available delicacy. The next day, the tavern gets its name on the viral page.

I never disclosed my name. I didn’t forget to utter to the owner that I should be anonymous since I will only use my room to store my clones. As soon as I woke up, I put my veil on and purchased the tools that I would need, various woods, metals, strings, and chemicals that I would craft.

The knowledge of alchemy comes in wide varieties. However, it all connects to Science, a term that’s still alien to this world. A fantasy jewel appraiser would only qualify gems in terms of quality, brittleness, shiness, and weight.

As I went to a jewel store, I could feel that the old owner wearing a monocle would get scammed. The store had sections displaying rocks with different qualities. The higher the quality, the more the owner grips his magic rod to protect it. Diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire stood the shiniest as he pointed the spotlight to them.

“How much is this?” I asked, pointing to the yellow lemon stone stocked with other stones in the ‘low-quality’ label.

The man squinted his eyes, then laughed. “Are you sure you want to buy that, young one?”

“It may not bring the quality you expect, but it can still give meaning to life.”

“What an outstanding view of rocks! Since no one wants to buy those rocks for a long time, I may give you a discount.”

A long time? There may be resurrected people, but I suppose all of them didn’t finish school. That’s also my case though. “Do you have more of these, pops?”

“Fufufu!” The man giggled as he rubbed his long beard. “I had many stocks here for years. I can provide you with a bag of it in mere seconds.”

“Just a bag? Never mind, I’ll soon come once you have another supply.”

The old man with a glimmering face delivered the bag of yellow stones to me. He offered me a huge discount as thanks for freeing up a space in his storage room. “Thanks won’t be enough for this business ideal,” he said while repeatedly shaking my hand.

I opened the door but halted before exiting. “Before I leave, I’m too nice to give you tips.” I pivoted at him with a smirk and pointed at the lighter-green Emerald shining its rays to my eyes which caught my attention. “That stone received the utmost attention for its sparkling quality. Don’t worry! I suppose that it doesn't harbor fraud.”

I left the store with disrespect, marking a trauma in his wide-open mouth. I’m immoral, you say? Deserve! That’s how one should treat a fraudster. Emeralds were never light in color. Luckily, I encountered bat guanos within the cave. Only burnt wood remains, and the formula will be complete.

I passed through a blacksmith to create the tools of Texas. Sadly, they aren’t dwarves. I also toured the furnace to burn the wood I brought from the woodsmith. The last stop would be the alchemist who could create the pellets I wanted according to my style.

I’m nearly finished, but this is only Plan A. With each passing day, I can identify the branches of dilemmas from the seed I planted, though the last plan would be Skade being kind in his redemption arc. That’s a no go.

On my way back to the tavern, I spotted a carriage surrounded by fifty or most knights from the empire as per their crest. The man inside the carriage, a plain pig that will soon become meatloaf, Skade. I hid thoroughly; It would be a waste if he spotted me before my plans.

He went down the carriage and asked the owner for an ice cream. Cyrill brought a newly made ice cream topped with various fruits to Skade. When he ate it, he smiled maniacally in euphoria. I’m a patient person only to bite my lip from his annoying ugly face.

“Which genius created this? That person should become an exclusive empire’s confiseur,” Skade asked in a high-pitched voice.

“It’s the… uh…” The owner stuttered when his Dementia stopped after remembering my contract.

“It’s me!” Cyrill declared and raised her hand. “I’m the one who made the creams. I named it ‘ice cream.’ It’s a sweet made by freezing cream and mixing it with ice.”

The owner tried to tap her shoulder but halted after Skade gazed at his actions. Cyrill, like Quimora, was too innocent to unravel within the cruel world. The owner knew that she would become a subject to various kinds of slapping and soiling. I’m in no position to move as of now.

Skade kneeled to her and held her hand. “Why don’t you become my potential queen, my previous confiseur?”

Eew! Even Cyrill didn’t blush. She fakely laughed and gazed away. “I–I’m afraid I’m only a commoner, Your Majesty. I apologize for being rude, but I think someone perfect and royal would be befitting of your offer.”

She didn’t know idiots don’t take no for an answer. In his inch-long narrow brain, he’s the only one who can say now. He said, “No. You’re the best genius in terms of sweets. You deserve to have the sweetest time of your life.”

The scene caused a commotion as the crowds gathered around. In no time, Skade used force to pull her into the carriage. The moment they left, the owner of the tavern kneeled on the floor and gazed into his thoughts.

The crowd dispersed. I approached him and tapped his shoulder, then whispered in his ear. “In two weeks, you will feel like nothing has ever happened.” He stared at me with tears in his eyes, and my ignorance pulled me into the tavern.

In the night when the full moon shines and the wolves in the distant forests howl, I forged the ultimate weapon the ancient Chinese feared. A Heckler & Koch VP70 fantasy pistol variant, capable of doing burst shots.

“Tilda, it’s been so long.”