Dantalian no Shoka:Volume1 Chapter1

A deserted ground at dusk.

Powder snow was falling silently through the spaces between the tree branches.

In front of a newly built grave, a girl was standing alone.

A little girl wearing a mourning dress.

"Please... teach me..."

The girl cried out with a hoarse voice.

She was looking at a carriage.

A brougham dyed in a deep black, stopped at the corner of the ground.

There was a single doll placed by the window. A beautiful porcelain doll dressed in a jet black dress.

The little girl kneed down on the withered lawn - as if to pray to this doll.

"Please, grant me knowledge. The ability to fulfill the desire of this man... please... somehow"

Her faintly quivering voice was blown away by the cold wind.

The moment the girl hanged her head in realization that her wish wouldn't be granted, the door of the carriage quietly opened.

A single book was presented to her through the door.

Besides the title written in relief, there was a plain crest drawn on the cover. The beautiful binding gave off the impression of a newly printed book and at the same time an impression of a centuries-old tome.

"The Phantom Book has chosen you."

A man's voice resounded from within the carriage.

The little girl raised her tear-stained face and received the book with wavering hands.

"I shall entrust you with this. May you be the owner of this phantom book until the day of the return date. However, remember one thing on any account."

"Remember... what...?"

The girl asked back frightened.

The man's answer was short. He replied in a hoarse voice that felt as if resounding from far away.

"There exist things in this world, that are not meant to be known to mankind..."

After the door was closed again, the carriage started to go away restfully. Disappearing in the dark of the night, leaving back only the sound of heavy hoofs.

A single girl in a mourning dress, carrying a book, remained.

The crimson shining moon was beholding this scene expressionlessly from high above in the sky.

Episode 01: Meditations de Gastronomie

1

On a rough mountain far outside the gates of the capital, there was a stopped car.

It was an old car once used by the army. A common type of automobile that was sold cheaply to the citizens during the post-war years.

There was no roof to the dimmed silver body of the car, so the two seats were exposed directly to the exterior.

A rolled up blanket and already read books were placed carelessly on the leather-coated seats.

The driver was a young man wearing a leather frock coat.

His age could not be determined exactly, but probably he was about twenty years old. Still, a boyish impression remained on his face, covered by a hat.

He was currently crouching on the side of the car, tampering with the back wheel bearing.

Although his gentle features implied a good upbringing, his hands were strangely accustomed to the use of tools.

Movements like a soldier that had received a special training.

"I am bored."

A girl was sitting on the load platform and spoke to the man.

Her age was no more than about 12, 13 years. Her white skin seemed almost transparent and was wrapped in a jet black dress.

Her hip-length hair was jet black as well and her eyes were colored in the deep black of the night.

The black dress was bulged with countless laces and frills. These outlines of her were enfolded by metallic protectors on her back hands and a rustic tasset. Her looks made one remember the ceremonial robes of medieval knights; an odd mixture that couldn't be called dress nor armor. And finally, in place of a ribbon, she was wearing an old, metallic chest.

A big lock, tied to her with silver chains.

"I am hungry. Just how long do you plan on making me wait? First you got lost and then you even made the car break down. Tell me Hughy, are you a good-for-nothing?"

Laying the book she was reading on her lap, she criticized the driver.

The young man called "Hughy" smiled sarcastically to this snappy tongue that didn't fit at all to her lovely appearance.

"Oh, I thought we got lost because you completely misread the map...?"

"Ugh..."

The girl groaned once and fell silent. She poutedly chewed on her lips while her cheeks were getting red and turned away.

My, my. The young man merely shrugged his shoulders while changing his gloves that had become dirty with oil.

"But we certainly are in an unpleasant situation. I'd like to repair the car, but there aren't enough parts. We'll have to go borrow some proper tools and material."

"...you are noticing this now?"

The girl breathed a dumbfounded sigh.

Their car was currently being stopped on a narrow land way that had only recently been hardened.

Wherever one would turn around, there was just plain wasteland covered with weed. A blacksmith or harness shop? There was not a single building far and wide!

"Please do take a look around. Do you really think, you can obtain those in this region? You are about the only foolish driver all over the world, who does lose his way to a place like this in this cold season."

"Well, I admit your point about the season."

He looked up to the branches of the trees dried by the coldness of the winter and then shook his head exaggeratedly.

"But Dalian... it seems we're not the only ones who took this route."

After having spoken, he narrowed his eyes to look in the distance.

A carriage was drawing closer to them while raising white dust.

It was a big two-horse cart.

To be more exact, a high-class carriage equipped with suspension, one usually only seen at the mansion's of nobles. A middle-aged man wearing an expensive looking coat was holding the reins at the driver seat. In the drawing room, a young woman could be seen.

Putting the tools he was holding on the ground, the young driver, Hughy, stood up.

The black dressed girl called Dalian jumped down from the loading platform and quickly took position behind Hughy.

Her anxious state made one remember little animals that weren't accustomed to humans. Hiding part of her head with the book she was hugging, she looked up carefully to the arriving carriage.

The young woman said something to the chauffeur, whereupon he drew the reins skillfully.

The carriage came slowly to a stop.

After she opened the door of the drawing room, the woman sticked out her head and smiled softly.

"Please forgive my rudeness, but are you having troubles?" the woman asked seriously. She was tall and was wearing a deep green cloak.

She didn't look like just a servant.　More like the personal teacher of a noble child or the maid of a landlady.

Hughy smiled sociably.

"I guess so. We were just about losing our way when the car suddenly stopped..."

"You lost... your way?" she asked back bewildered.

Their car was being stopped at the center of a wasteland with clear view on the surroundings. Also there wasn't any fog nor was the road they took complicated or branched. It was a road, one could only get lost by making a big mistake.

"Err, well... it's a bit embarrassing but you see, a lot happened underway..."

The young man smiled bitterly and sighed, while the black dressed girl behind him was puffing up her face.

"To tell the truth, we were searching for the mansion of Graham Atkinson... do you happen to know him?"

"The mansion of Mr. Graham...?" the woman asked surprised.

She exchanged glances with the chauffeur and then nervously straightened herself.

"Well then, could it be you're guests of tonight's dinner party...?"

"Yes. We were invited by Mr. Graham. My name is Hugh Anthony Disward - you may call me Hughy. And she's Dalian."

"...Sir Disward? Don't tell me you're..."

For some reason she was taken aback and frowned.

Then she came to her senses again and bowed deeply with the words "Please forgive my rudeness!".

"I'm called Lesley and am a servant at Mr. Graham's mansion. If you'd like you could ride with this carriage to the mansion. And naturally, we will arrange workers for the repair of your car."

"Ah, that would be a big help. Just..."

Saying so, Hughy looked behind his back.

The shoulders of the black dressed girl hiding behind him were quivering faintly.

Being cautious about unknown adults, she took the attitude of a shy young child.

Lesley frowned worriedly, but then seemed to be struck with an idea.

"Miss Dalian... Err, to tell the truth there are some snacks inside the carriage..."

Dalian reacted with a twitch on the sound of "snacks".

The black dressed girl then peeked out behind Hughy and looked up to Lesley.

"Snacks... of what sort?"

She asked lastly with a voice one could barely hear.

Lesley smiled relieved.

"Hm, let's see. Nothing too exceptional, but there's fried bread and..."

She started to count with her fingers but Dalian answered instantly even before Lesley could finish. "We ride...", while tugging at Hughy's sleeves.

"My, my" Hughy sighed faintly.

The loading platform was loaded with piled up ingredients. Vegetables and fruits, fish and meat as well as manufactured food like cheese. All of it was clearly of high class and fresh.

"Were you just returning from shopping? These are the ingredients for tonight's dinner party, I suppose?"

Hughy was lightly surprised after glancing into the loading platform and said so.

"No" Lesley shook her head.

"The pre-cooking for the dinner party is already done. What you're seeing there are the ingredients for lord's dinner tonight."

"All this for Mr. Graham alone? But he certainly didn't have a family, I heard..."

"Yes, all of it will be presented to the lord. Stocking goods is strictly prohibited, since what's rounding out the quality of the cooking is the freshness and the quality of the ingredients. In the past, the old head chef used slightly injured ingredients and got fired just because of that on the same day.

"Aah..."

Hughy smiled a bit amazed.

"Mr. Graham seems to be a gourmet as I've heard in the rumours. Are you working in the kitchen of his mansion?"

"Yes...... that's about right. I'm entrusted with work like the one of a kitchen maid."

Lesley answered with an ambiguous smile.

Kitchen maids were people working under the head cook. Or in other words cooks following his example. The fact, that she'd been entrusted with something as important like purchasing the ingredients meant that she was remarkable even amongst the kitchen maids.

"I see. Quite a big deal, I guess. After all, the cuisine of Mr. Graham's mansion is famous in the capital. The original cooking style he developed is introduced in the newspaper from time to time and I've heard that the invitations to the head cook coming from the representatives of the House of Lords or wealthy people on the mainland, aren't stopping."

"I've heard such rumours as well."

She shook her head with a serious expression.

"But as long the lord is alive, it's absolutely unthinkable that the head cook would ever ride on such an offer. That is because the only purpose in life the head cook has, is to let the lord savor the most delicious cuisine."

"...is the treatment at Graham's that good?"

Hughy asked back amused.

Thereupon Lesley thought about it for a moment and said:

"Of course, Mr. Graham is treating the kitchen staff very well. But much more than this, it's because the kitchen at his mansion is the perfect environment for cooks. They may freely use the best and the rarest ingredients, and also all the other ingredients are of best quality and freshness. Furthermore, the crops on this land are of good quality, as well and there's a wealthy forest."

"Forest?"

"Yes. You can hunt in the nearby forest. There are pheasants, rabbits or even wild boars..."

"Aah... that's the point. I see."

Hughy muttered looking at the thick forest expanding before the carriage.

"Could it be that this is also the reason, why Mr. Graham is living on the countryside rather than the capital...?"

"Of course. 'To succeed in making the best cooking, one must use the best ingredients.' is the favorite phrase of Mr. Graham."

"...I see"

Hughy grumbled, brooding about it

In the meanwhile, the black dressed girl had been sitting all the time beside Hughy and had her cheeks innocently stuffed with the fried bread that was wrapped up in oil paper. From time to time she also licked her fingers that were smeared　with sugar and looked entranced every time she did so.

"You seem to like it, don't you, Dalian?"

"...correct."

After having answered with a single word, Dalian bit again into the bread. Her cautious attitude against Lesley at first seemed like a lie.

Lesley watched her warmly while saying.

"If it's according your taste then that's above all else."

She narrowed her eyes pleasantly.

"As soon we arrive at the mansion I can provide you with something finer, but for now that's all we have. Those are the remains of the goods we presented to an orphanage."

"Presents?"

Hughy asked back doubtfully.

"Yes... I always send them the remaining breads of everyday's breakfast when I go purchasing goods. It's a pleasure to watch the children happily eat the food I made."

"So, the person that baked this was...?"

"I baked it. You know... I lost my parents early on and lived through the experience of being constantly hungry."

The expression that flashed over Lesley's face was a bit strange. An unclear expression that looked sad, yet smiling at the same time.

2

The mansion of the gourmet was on a high ground with a view of the thick forest.

Long ago it was the castle of the feudal lord and was surprising wide. Dining tables were lined up in the dining hall, decorated with beautiful candlesticks and sterling cutlery.

The hall was alive with wealthy people, landlords and other peoples talking.

And their topic was devoted to tonight's dinner.

"Why are there so much people? Getting sultry in here."

Dalian was hiding herself in the shadows of the posts and complaining quietly.

While adjusting his brand new necktie, Hughy gave a laid-back answer,

"You see, Mr. Graham is a wealthy person who built up a fortune in his young years by doing forward trading with corn. Even now, when he's retired, he gathers people in this hall and arranges a dinner party. And because of the very special cooking, getting invited can be something to be proud about."

"...what a miserable bunch."

Dalian said rudely, gotten in a bad mood because of her shyness of people.

Her exotic black dress was eye-catching even within all the dressed up other guests. Being stared at by the curious gazes of the people seemed to be another reason for her bad mood.

Even so there were quite a lot who came talking to her out of curiosity.

"Good evening, young lady. Is this your first time here?"

Being addressed by a young noble-looking man, she stiffened and tried to sham being not aware of him.

But the man didn't even mind and continued:

"I've been attending several times since last year. The cooking here, it's even better than in the rumours! To say that Mr. Graham's company flourished just because of this party is perfectly reasonable. I'm sure you'll also love it. The cooking method he developed is of course splendid, but as is the skill of the cooks that carry it out."

"...Cooks?"

Hughy came asking subdued.

An expression of being saved flashed over the face of the man that was being ignored by Dalian.

"Yes, exactly. Did you know? The head cook seems to be able to cook animals alive, without letting them feel any pain. I've heard that birds and beasts continue to sleep comfortably even when their head rolled, or that fishes continue to swim in the fish tank even when being reduced to head and bones---"

"...why does he do such a strange thing?"

Hughy raised his eyebrows and asked back. The noble-looking man extended his arms exaggeratedly and shook his head.

"That's again a story beyond belief. He seems to be seeking for the perfect flavor by doing so." Adrenalin... as you call it. Animals emit adrenalin when they're died in pain. Because of this the meat gets chewy and the flavour weakens. Well, but of course that's a subtle difference a common man can't perceive."

"So... just to prevent this effect...?"

"Exactly. A splendid fixation, don't you think? Seems like he polished his knife technique and even learned acupuncture. Furthermore the oriental 'moxibustion' or the use of medicines; just to prevent the animals from suffering. Mind you, he has now worked for several years for Mr. Graham."

"...quite hard to believe, isn't it?"

Hughy expressed his indifferent thoughts.

The man nodded several times.

"Surely! But I think you'll agree with me as soon you've tasted the cooking."

After having explained them, boasting like it was about himself, the man parted in high spirits.

When he went out of view, Dalian relaxed again.

"...what do you think about what he told us?"

Until now he preserved a sociable smile, but now Hughy looked earnest at once and asked her.

"It's an absurd story. That's not something a common man could accomplish."

Dalian said coldly.

Hughy keeped being serious.

"But what if it's the truth?"

The black-dressed girl gazed at the fire burning above a candlestick and muttered in an even voice:

"This would mean... the power of a non-human being is involved."

"I see."

Hughy shrugged casually his shoulders.

He took a pocket-watch out of his coat and, as if been shaken up, said briefly:

"It's time. Let's go."

Graham Atkinson's workroom was at a silent place a bit apart from the dinner party.

Outside the window one could see the huge forest behind the mansion and the wheat fields. Bookshelves that reached to the ceiling were placed on both sides of the room, packed with expensive books.

There were some comfortable-looking seats in the center of the room, in which one a man was already sitting.

His age was probably over 50 years.

He was a bit short, but had muscles on his body. Far from the chubby body one would expect after hearing the rumours of a gourmet. Rather than a retired wealthy person, he looked like a soldier in employment.

"---quite an impressive library."

Even before greeting him, Hughy first sighed a breath of admiration after being led to the room while looking up on the wall. Even Dalian couldn't suppress her eyes from widening.

"'De re coquinaria' by the gourmand Acipius of the old Rome. 'Le Viandier' written by Charles VI's highly valued head cook Taillevent. 'The Physiology of Taste' by Brillat-Savarin - the greatest gourmet of modern history. And the 'Qí mín yào shù' of the Ancient China - not just recipes, there even are natural history and physic books... you probably could count the amount of other gourmet libraries of this level on a single hand."

"Ho-..."

The owner of the workroom gazed at Hughy with evaluating eyes and then laughed lightly.

"I see. As expected of the grandchild of Viscount Wesley Disward. You seem to have an eye for books."

"Are you acquainted with my grandfather?"

Hughy stared surprised back at the gourmet.

Graham nodded deeply with an expression that was hard to judge. He signaled Hughy and Dalian to take seat in the seats in front of him and ordered the butler to prepare some tea.

"Everyone who's at least a bit active in the background affairs of this country knows about this Bibliomania! And also about the library the Viscount owns."

"What do you mean?"

Hughy kept a straight face and asked back.

"Playing dumb won't help you, Sir Disward. The greatest proof is this girl you're taking with you, 'the Black Reading Princess'. You've inherited 'that' from the Viscount, haven't you? The Bibliotheca of Dantalian!"

"...so?"

Hughy smiled sarcastically and tilted his head. Dalian was without change tugging at his sleeves while looking downwards. Her expressionless profile looked like a beautiful porcelain doll.

"Mhph," Graham nosed amused.

"Books are good. You need to use your head to read them. If you use your head, you'll get hungry. Did you know? The weight of the brain is about 2% of the whole body, but it uses up 18% of the calories we need in our daily lives. And the more you get hungry, the tastier the dishes."

"You read books... for the sake of eating?"

Hughy asked in a jesting tone.

But the man nodded, taking this for granted.

"Right... and the same for muscles. If you increase your basal metabolism by training your muscles, the amount of food you need will also grow. And gourmet food is the greatest pleasure god has given to us. For this, I spare neither trouble nor expense."

"Haa..."

With a complicated expression, Hughy looked around in the workroom. There weren't just lots of books in Graham's workroom, but also countless instrument to train the body.

Also there wasn't a desk, but a personal dining table.

The sake cup or the bowls seemed to be made out of expensive porcelain. Only things one would expect to see in an art gallery. In a sense, this workroom also was a splendid and extravagant dining room.

After a short while of silence, Hughy asked "Won't you take part in the dinner party?"

Although the dinner party should have begun by now, Graham didn't seem to be going.

"What a laughable event," Graham ranted.

"Are you telling me to spend the time of my holy dinner together with a bunch that won't stop talking about ridiculous rumours, their business and other nonsense? Me? Such a dinner party is worthless. I'm organizing this because I have no other choice for trading. You may call it apple-polishing of some incompetent trustees."

"That is... unexpected." Hughy muttered to himself.

"Why would you think so?"

"No, it's just, everyone praised the dishes presented at the dinner party so highly. So I thought you would make highest efforts..."

"Of course I'm making highest efforts. Isn't that evident? Or did you think I'd let my cooks slack off, just because the guests are ordinary people?"

The gourmet asked Hughy in a mean way, whereupon Hughy silently shook his head.

Graham laughed deeply using his throat and

"Well but, to tell the truth... They might not be slacking off, but neither do they give their best. They rather reduce the grade of perfection of the cooking, so the taste buds of those common people are able to comprehend the taste. I wonder, do you know why?"

"No... why is that so?"

"In brief, not just the cooking has to be the best. Also the body of the one eating it has to be at least of the same quality. Everyone knows that the meat of a tight and healthy animal is tasty. But what about the one eating it? A fat body, or inner organs corroded by tobacco and wine... would you think such a person could ever comprehend the best cooking?"

Graham sighed as if to curse at the guests gathered at the dinner party.

"Caring about the health, putting the body in order, and, of course, never eating too much, but neither getting too hungry. Like this I've worked a long time on myself. In order to savour the best cooking. I'm different from those would-be gourmets!"

While saying so, he proudly threw out his chest and showed his muscles.

"I think I can understand what you mean," said Hughy with a calm smile and continued while smiling strainedly, "In this sense, we don't seem to have the capabilities to savour the best cooking you're talking about, as well. I am a person that neglects to live healthy and I'm quite dense to tastes... Thus may we gradually get to the main topic?"

"Main topic, huh?"

"Yes. Why did you invite us to this dinner party, and even to your workroom, Mr. Graham Atkinson? Us, that don't have any connection with your business?"

Hughy looked at him with cold eyes.

Graham nodded pleased.

"Right... I don't have any interest in the bunch that comes here with the cooking as their objective. But you are different, Sir Disward. And you, Reading Princess... please, somehow, grant my wish!"

"Wish?"

Hughy asked with dubiousness on his face. Graham sunk his head deeply.

"I'm talking about the Phantom Book."

A light dark light flashed over his eyes. Dalian tightened her grip on Hughy's sleeves with a tensed up face.

"I merely wish that you lend me one Phantom Book - one of those countless Phantom Books you own. The Phantom Book, the chef of Valhalla, the pagan god Andhrímnir is said to have written. With prohibited cookery written in it."

The man continued to speak at ease.

"The book is called 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking'. A book lost long ago that shouldn't exist anymore. But you should know its whereabouts. You that took over the Phantom Bibliotheca that is crowned by the name of the demon that possesses knowledge and books. The Bibliotheca of Dantalian!"

"...why?"

Hughy repeated his question. Graham frowned discontentedly.

"You are a Researcher of gourmet food everyone recognizes. You do have collected such a giant amount of cookbooks and even do have one of the best cooks in the country employed. What do you wish more than that?"

"To savour the best cooking - that's all I wish for."

Graham answered right away.

"For gourmet food is the greatest pleasure there is. It's the ultimate desire the human bases on. Furthermore it's the driving force that led to the advancement of our civilization. Or as Brillat-Savarin once said: The discovery of a new dish confers more happiness on humanity, than the discovery of a new star. And I've yet to find it! This happiness!"

"And for this you'd like to borrow the knowledge of the demons?"

Hughy looked at him with pity in his eyes. Graham nodded and continued:

"I've sacrificed my own lifetime in order to seek the best cooking. Did you know? According to some statistics, true gourmet food does not harm the health, but rather lengthens life... however, I've not reached it. I don't have much time left. Ten, twenty years at most. But before this I want to savour the ultimate gourmet food! Even if I have to borrow the power of a book whose mere existence is prohibited."

Hughy listened patiently to Graham until he finished. Bewilderment could be clearly seen in Hughy's eyes. He shook his head not being able to comprehend Graham's words.

"...could you explain, Dalian?"

Dalian didn't answer the question Hughy whispered and instead kept being silent.

"Why are you hesitating, Sir Disward?"

Irritation was mixed in Graham's voice.

"Do you want money? In this case there's nothing to hesitate. Just write down as much as you want on a cheque."

"...you're mistaken, Mr. Atkinson. We don't want anything in exchange for a Phantom Book."

Hughy sighed annoyed.

"But sadly we're not able to hand out the Phantom Book to you - even if we, for argument's sake, are the owner of this bibliotheca."

"Why?"

He asked back in a hoarse voice, starting to be disturbed.

"Because this book - The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking - is already lent to somebody. Thirty years ago."

"What the...?"

Graham muttered completely dumbfounded.

Hughy continued still frowning out of incomprehension

"It was written in the diary of my grandfather, that he handed out the 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' on a whim to someone on today 30 years ago. That's why we came here thinking you'd be the one holding the book. There also was the fact, that you got widely famous as a gourmet just shortly after this date-"

"30 years ago...? Don't tell me...!"

He groaned deeply and sank down on his seat. Then after a long time of silence he muttered in a mournful voice:

"It's the chef..."

"Eh?"

"The chef is holding the Phantom Book. It seems all are thinking I'd thought out the recipes and the servants just realized them, but that is not true. The chef does think them out and realize them all on his own. It was right 30 years ago when I employed the chef... even so... what a... ooh...!"

Mumbling so he held his head.

He looked just that sovereign before, but now it seemed almost like he shrunk.

"What is this... irony of fate... so I've already been eating dishes cooked with this Phantom Book...? And even so I've not been able to savour the cooking I've been longing for...? Even by using the knowledge of the demons I'm not able to reach my ideal...? And I believed that my wish would come true if I just could get hold of it..."

Graham sighed in grief.

Hughy looked down at him silently. Then Dalian stood up without making a sound.

"Where is the chef?"

She asked breaking the silence.

"In the kitchen I guess... he should be preparing my dinner right now..."

"I do want to meet the chef. Immediately."

"Do as you please. There doesn't seem to be any merit for either of us in talking any more."

Graham said indifferently.

After Hughy gave her a nod, the two of them left the room. Her black dress softly widened like a large shadow.

Graham called out to their backs.

"Wait! ...Let me ask just one thing, Sir Disward. If you didn't come here to lend me the Phantom Book, then why? Now, after thirty years..."

"Books lent out by a library do have return dates, Mr. Atkinson..."

Hughy said without turning around in a emotionless voice.

"Phantom Books are books that, originally, shouldn't even exist in this world. What kind of havoc could one of them wreak if it wasn't brought back within the time limit? We wouldn't know."

Graham looked at them in bewilderment.

The black dressed girl turned around quietly and proclaimed in a cold and clear voice.

"'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' has been lent out with a time limit of thirty years. The return date is... tonight."

3

After leaving Graham's workroom, Hughy headed together with Dalian to the kitchen.

On the way they passed through the hall of the dinner party.

The main dishes were served out and the party was reaching its peak. Everyone admired the arrangement of the food and exhausted their vocabulary with their high praise.

"I don't like this mood."

Hughy muttered while looking at them. Somehow they appeared irregular to him.

"There is also negative criticism about Graham's dinner parties. For example that he uses endangered animals and plants in his cooking. Or there are rumours about human bones found in the garbage of the kitchen... And I guess they know about this, too."

"...what is so fun eating all these things?"

Dalian asked back in a earnest expression. Hughy just shrugged his shoulders.

"Why indeed? There are people living in this world that are thankful for anything rare. Whatever it is."

"...even though there would be countless better ingredients. Such fools. Just eat bread. And if there is no bread, do eat confectionery."

Dalian explained her own opinion with plain words.

Ignoring her, Hughy continued

"Of course there are many not doubting Graham, since he's an influential man in a high position. Even I thought so until now. But if the chef is holding the Phantom Book, then that's different... I hope it's not going to be troublesome."

The black dressed girl didn't answer to his mutter.

She glanced wordless at the scenery beyond the windows.

A blood-red full moon was silently hanging in the far sky.

A lot of cooks were at work in the kitchen.

And like one could expect of a mansion owned by a person known for being a gourmet, the kitchen area was quite big. The ground was well paved with stone plates with a bunch of servants, kitchen maids and scullery maids scampering around on it.

Then there was one person who finished up this giant amount of dishes by controlling them like arms and legs.

This was, without doubt, the chef of this mansion. The movements were completely different from the other people.

The pot danced around in her hands almost like it got an own will and an appetite quickening odour spread out just by her adding spices or sauces. When she took a knife, she cut meat with solid bones or vegetables with vivid movements and dished them up beautifully like a flower bed, although she didn't seem to put any power in her grip.

Hughy seemed captivated and stood stock still for a while not being able to shift his gaze.

The chef noticed this and looked up.

Surprisingly the chef was a young woman, about in the half of her twenties.

She finished up the cooking without stocking, put away the knife and then approached Hughy and Dalian.

"...so you were the chef of this mansion?"

Hughy asked silently. Upon which the chef - Lesley - smiled apologetically.

She was the person who let them ride on a carriage and lead them to the mansion.

"I already expected... you would come."

Lesley answered looking a bit desolate.

"Why?"

Dalian was the one asking back. Lesley looked down on her in nostalgia and said,

"I've changed quite a bit in those thirty years, but you look the same like when we met, ...Black Reading Princess. Or was it your mother that time?"

Dalian didn't answer and just gazed at her.

Instead Hughy opened his mouth.

"You know 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking'... don't you, Miss Lesley?"

She answered the question with silence.

"Was it you who accepted the Phantom Book thirty years ago from my grandfather?" asked Hughy.

"Yes, exactly."

Lesley nodded.

"I still remember that day. It was on the day of my father's funeral. He lost his employment all of a sudden and tried to drown his frustration in alcohol. In the end he died due to a mundane quarrel. If the Lord didn't pick me up, I'm sure I would have died."

Saying so, Lesley suddenly seemed to reconsider and shook her head.

"No, that's not quite true. If I didn't have a talent for cooking... if I hadn't read 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking', the Lord wouldn't have employed someone like me with an unknown background... what really rescued me was the Phantom Book I borrowed."

Dalian stared in silence at the chef who had a bitter expression.

Hughy asked in a kind voice,

"You are aware of the reason we came to meet you, right?"

Lesley smiled.

"The return date has come, hasn't it?"

After saying so readily, she took off her apron, told a kitchen maid something and started to walk and lead Hughy and Dalian.

"Please follow me. The Phantom Book is stored in my room... naturally, I've treated it with great care and didn't do anything that would have brought damage to the book."

"Is Mr. Graham's dinner alright?"

Hughy called out to Lesley's back in bewilderment.

She smiled triumphantly and nodded.

"Yes. The dinner of the Lord is almost done. I only need to arrange the last few ingredients."

Lesley kept walking and Hughy and Dalian followed silently behind her.

The room of the chef wasn't that far apart of the kitchen and was below the ground. It was a simple room, one wouldn't expect of a renowned cook. Lesley opened the old solid wood door using an old bronze key.

Dalian muttered suddenly to her back,

"Phantom Books do choose their holders themselves."

Lesley turned around with wary expression, but Dalian kept looking straight into her face and continued,

"If someone without the qualifications is holding a Phantom Book, then this person gets engulfed in the magical power of the book... I do only know very few Phantom Book Readers that held a Phantom Book for thirty years and didn't drown in this power."

"...Should I be proud about this?"

Lesley smiled a bit bothered and shook her head.

"But I just prepared dishes like it was written in the book. Naturally, it didn't go all that well from the start. I used several years just to learn the basic techniques. But after I've learned those techniques, I just needed to obtain the best ingredients and draw out the delightfulness... I just continued to prepare the dishes written in the Phantom Book like this."

Hughy had noticed that Lesley, holding a knife, wasn't looking to him, but to Dalian.

The intonation of her voice slowly weakened while she continued to mutter.

Her face lost every expression and looked empty, almost like in a state of trance.

"...Where is the Phantom Book, Miss Lesley?"

Hughy asked while looking around in the dark underground room.

"Not yet..."

Lesley said smiling artificially.

She took a bottle filled with an unfamiliar spice from a spice-shelf beside the entrance and opened the lid.

"The Lord is not yet satisfied with my cooking. I'm aware of this, for I've not yet made the 'true' cooking written in the Phantom Book...!"

"Lesley?"

Hughy called out to her in a serious voice.

She turned around and shook the bottle with natural movements one could get charmed by. The weird-colored fine powder poured down on Hughy's entire body.

"What's this...?!"

Hughy put himself on guard with a severe expression. However, without stopping to smile, Lesley said

"Don't worry, Mr. Hughy. This is just a spice I mixed myself. The smell will disappear late at night. But until then, please don't leave this room. If you do, you could get some serious trouble..."

She said so while stepping back and grabbed the doorknob. She planned to lock in Hughy and Dalian.

Hughy reflexively took position to chase after her but then stopped, when he saw that the chef suddenly was holding a knife in the hands. He had noticed that Lesley, holding a knife, wasn't looking to him, but to Dalian.

"What are you trying to do, Lesley?"

Hughy asked mixed with a sigh.

"I shouldn't even need to say this."

Lesley slowly closed the door to the underground room.

With the dignified sound of metal, the door was locked with no mercy. The last thing that could be heard inside the darkened underground room was the bright voice of the chef.

"By all means I have to serve this cooking to the Lord! The best cooking I used thirty years to complete!"

4

Hughy searched in his pockets and took out a lighter. It was a unrefined lighter for military use developed during the war in Austria. Blue sparks scattered, the smell of burned oil started to spread out and then a small flame illuminated the underground room.

"Why do we have to get into such unreasonable troubles, when we just came to get back a lent out book...? It's always the same with work concerning Phantom Books..."

Hughy complained while breathing a long sigh.

Dalian scowled at him, said

"It is not the situation to weep around."

And then she kicked the wall of this dreary underground room, letting her greaves ring.

"What a pathetic man you are. How dense are you, to be readily locked inside such a place? With this gloomy light I can't even read a book to kill some time."

While expressing a torrent of curses, the black-dressed girl grasped tightly to Hughy's back with her fingers. Like a unconfident child that fears the dark does.

"I don't think I've been inattentive, though."

Hughy said in a fed up voice while smelling the odour on his coat.

The fine powder Lesley poured over him gave out a characteristic fragrance hard to describe.

Rather than stimulating the nose, the odour seemed to permeate right into the depths of the head. It wasn't an unpleasant fragrance, but it was unlikely to disappear so easily.

"But how did Lesley...? I didn't sense anyone crossing the boundary..."

Dalian shook her head to Hughy's mutter. An extreme frail expression floated over her face.

"She might have crossed the 'boundary' from the beginning. With us just not noticing it. And now slowly, thirty years long she was..."

"Could be."

Hughy didn't try to comfort her. He shook his head while putting his hand into the pocket of his coat,

"But it's not certain either. Please go away a bit, Dalian."

"...what are you planning to do?"

"We can't stay here forever, you see."

Hughy took out a weapon; a top-break service revolver. A handgun used by the army.

He pointed the gun to the locked door and pulled a trigger　without hesitation.

A thunderous roar resounded within the small underground room and the bullet opened a hole inside the wood door. He shot once again, upon which the frail lock shattered and the door opened.

"...a noisy tool, as always."

Dalian cast him a blaming glance while guarding her ears with both hands. Hughy just shrugged wordlessly.

Almost the same time as the both of them left the room, several cooks came running from the kitchen with surprised miens. They probably heard the gun shot.

Hughy smiled dimly seeming to brood about how to deceive them.

However, this facial expression froze at once.

The more the cooks drew near, the more their condition changed.

Almost as if they got hypnotized, their expressions grew empty with only their eyes sparkling in a strong light. The gazes of hungry wolfs.

They weren't looking at Dalian, but at Hughy.

But there wasn't any hostility in the eyes of the cooks.

They emitted a more primitive desire. Hunger.

They seemed to feel an intense appetite for Hughy's body.

"It appears you look quite tasty in their eyes, Hughy."

Dalian stated the facts in a indifferent tone.

Hughy curved his lips looking terribly annoyed.

"Lesley's spice earlier... is this odour deluding them?"

"Correct. Not bad, after all it's the cookbook the chef of Valhalla left behind... this is more trouble than expected."

Hughy nodded to her words.

"They got us, huh? Since I also can't just shoot one of them after the other..."

"...surprisingly you also seem to have some soft parts."

The black-dressed girl looked up to him lightly amused.

"No... I simply don't have enough bullets. Since I've already used two of them just before."

With these words Hughy put away his gun.

During this the cooks have drawn nearer. And not just that, one could see how even more people approached through the floor like being allured.

The servants of the mansion as well as Gentlemen and Ladies with a smart appearance. In other words the guests that attended the dinner party in the big hall.

Even they were being attracted by the spice of Lesley.

"I see. This sure is serious trouble."

Hughy groaned remembering Lesley's words.

It was almost like watching an assembling swarm of wasps, that got aroused by the alarm pheromone of their fellows.

If they came attacking all at once, then Hughy would have no way to prevail. His whole body would probably be mangled and eaten alive and he'd end up dead.

"...Dalian, may I borrow a book?"

He muttered mixed with a sigh and took off the glove on his right hand.

A beautiful gem was embedded in the back of his hand. A deep red gem resembling the color of blood.

Dalian wasn't holding a book right now. They left the book she read in the car behind there.

Nevertheless, she nodded expressionless and quietly reached for her collar.

Pearly-white skin was exposed between the gaps of the widely opened black dress.

And in the midst of her front neck, a steel chest. An old lock made of metal---

"...I ask of thee, Art thou mankind?"

Hughy asked her holding aloft his right hand. It was as if he was casting an ancient forbidden spell.

And Dalian answered like an utensil in a cold robotic voice.

『No... We are......』

It was right after that, that the people attracted by the spice came rushing like a giant wave to crush the two of them.

5

The gourmet Graham Atkinson was currently dining.

Several plates filled with extravagant cuisine were tightly lined up on his personal dining table in his workroom.

The main dish was an unfamiliar meat dish. The fresh just cut up meat had to be dipped in the special made sauce. The sauce was superbly refined using countless different spices and herbs and its fragrance was engulfing the entire room in a fascinating aroma.

Graham's appearance were fulfilled with bliss like never before.

Each time he led the silver fork to his mouth, the words of praise "Wonderful" escaped him.

The chef himself was taking on the role of the waitress wearing a gorgeous apron.

When she noticed the figures entering the room, she restfully raised her face.

And a light expression of surprise floated over her features.

The visitors of the workroom were a party of two. A young man wearing a frock coat and a black-dressed girl.

The girl was holding a massive book in her arms. The color of the cover of the book had already faded to a brown tint. It was a manuscript written on parchment. However, except for this no change whatsoever could be seen on their appearance.

The odour of the special mixture of spices was still rising from the body of the young man.

"I'm surprised you managed to arrive here unharmed... a great number of people was supposed to be in the big hall, but didn't you get attacked by them?"

The chef Lesley asked in a calm voice.

Hughy shook his head with a wry smile.

"We had those gentlemen sleep for a little while."

"...sleep?"

"'Hazār Afsān', a collection of tales compiled in the ancient Persia---"

Hughy said taking a peek at the book in Dalian's arms.

"The tyrannic Islamic king Shahryār is said to have slept for thousand and one day after having gotten it read aloud to him. It's the book that later also was used as the manuscript of 'One Thousand and One Nights' and makes the ones sleep that hear the stories of it. However, it's not supposed to exist anymore since it has been burned at the time the Mongolian army raided Baghdad."

"The Phantom Books that shouldn't exist in this world... right? But where on earth did you get this...?"

Lesley smiled amazed.

"I suppose this was a foolish question... you are the owners of the Bibliotheca of Dantalian. The Princess of the Phantom Bibliotheca containing 900666 Phantom Books and its gatekeeper---"

The chef reached for the wagon with the dishes and picked up a book.

The era couldn't be determined, but it was quite an old book. The words "The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking" were engraved on its cover. Embracing this book tightly, she said in a kind voice,

"My father was cook, too. He worked at this mansion thirty years ago... but his cuisine couldn't satisfy the Lord, no, my father even accidentally used injured ingredients once and was fired just because of this. In consequence he died shortly after."

"...so you're here for revenge?"

Hughy said keeping a straight face.

"Yes, that was my plan... at the beginning."

Lesley nodded pleasantly.

"I thought about modifying the cooking or mixing poison into it. However, the Lord would never accept the cooking of some subordinate cook, and if there was something mixed in the cooking, he would surely notice it. I noticed that I couldn't harm the Lord as long as I didn't master the art of cookery."

Hughy listened without disrupting her.

Graham continued to silently eat his dinner. His silverware could be heard resounding in the room.

"From then on I was absorbed in reading the Phantom Book I've borrowed and spent day and night polishing my skills. Thanks to this, the kitchen has been entrusted to me and before I knew it, I've earned reputation as cook. Then I noticed. The Lord was completely right in firing an incompetent cook - in other words my father."

Lesley smiled brightly with a triumphant look.

"And most of all, I began to seek for the best cooking myself. But the journey was fraught with difficulties. 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' contained many hints to achieve this goal, but the recipe for the best cooking itself wasn't written in it."

Lesley put the book away silently.

She looked contently down to her cookery lined up on the dining table.

"However... at last it has been accomplished tonight. I've made the best cooking."

A sense of fulfillment was contained in her low voice, only people that finished a work have.

"Wonderful..."

Graham mumbled with a full mouth.

"Wonderful... This is the cooking I've been seeking for. More... Let me eat more."

The silverware of the gourmet made woefully circles over the empty plate.

Lesley gripped her favorite knife, opened the lid of the container and vividly cut up fresh pieces of meat. She placed them on the plate with fluid movements and ladled a perfect serving of sauce over it.

Lastly, she served it soundlessly to her employer.

"The teachings of 'The Book of the Ultimate Contemplation of Cooking' were simple. Drawing the taste out of the best raw materials without hurting them. For this I've polished my techniques and learned how to cook living being without letting them feel pain. But this wasn't enough."

Lesley said with a melancholic face.

"It doesn't suffice to just remove the pain for them. They rather have to feel pleasure. The secret for the best cooking was to let the raw materials feel the greatest pleasure so they'r fulfilled with pleasure substances while cooking them."

"...The greatest pleasure?"

Hughy asked her calmly back.

"Gourmet food."

Lesley laughed a bit triumphantly.

"Gourmet food is an enjoyment limited to humans. In addition the insurmountable delight, a person that took gourmet food to extremes feels, when he comes across the best cooking. The brain in the second when it's fulfilled with pleasure substances is the best ingredient existing in this world."

She put down the knife on the wagon and thoroughly washed her hands in a water bowl. Then she dried them with a brand new towel and again took the Phantom Book in her hands.

"I'll return this book, since I don't need it anymore-"

Dalian easefully walked to her and accepted the Phantom Book.

Hughy gazed wordlessly at her back.

"...I liked your fried bread."

At length, Dalian said so in a lightly sad voice. Lesley inclined her head doubtfully, but Dalian continued,

"Even without the best ingredients, it was a most fulfilled taste."

In this moment Lesley breathed up, almost like she remembered something long forgotten, and her expression froze.

But this was just for a moment.

The young chef nodded immediately as if nothing had happened and applied her attention again to Graham.

Hughy and Dalian turned the two of them their backs and silently left the workroom.

"Aah... more... let me eat more..."

The gourmet murmured in an enraptured voice. The words changed to the groan of an animal in the middle and couldn't be hear well anymore. Even so Lesley smiled brightly.

"Please be at relief, my Lord. There's still a lot."

Putting the freshly cut up meat on the plate, she pointed at the man waiting for her.

Then she gently closed the lid of the container containing the valuable ingredient. This container was once the skull of the man called Graham Atkinson.

The gourmet, famous in the capital, lead a piece of his own freshly cut up brain with relish to his mouth and, with a blissful mien, --- smiled.

6

There was a car stopped in midst of a mountain way.

It was an old car once used by the army, and the dim silver car body was wet by the early morning fog. The right back wheel was dismantled and the young driver was crouching beside it. A fluffy blanket was laid on the leather-coated seats with a little girl snuggled up in it like a cat.

"I am bored."

She said ill-humored. Several thick books, she had already read, were piled up behind her.

"I am hungry. How long do you plan on making me wait, just to replace one or two metal pipes? We went through hardships getting the parts from a car at the mansion and walking off with them until here and even so had to stay up all night. Just how incapable are you, Hughy?"

"...I couldn't get parts with the same standard, so I need some time! Well, applying forcibly some glue it should hold until we arrive at the town, I guess."

Saying so, the young driver started to tamper again with the bottom part of the defect car.

Dalian sighted long and looked into the distance.

The morning sun was illuminating the horizon white. The outlines of the forest were no longer sunken in darkness but now slowly appeared. She also noticed wheat sprouts showing themselves on the slopes that seemed like mere wasteland before.

The street was gently bent with no end in sight.

A single carriage was drawing near on this street.

An old peasant was riding it. The loading platform was fully loaded with straw bundles.

"What's up at such a place?"

The peasant took his time and slowly stopped next to them.

"As you can see. It's like this since the car got broken last night."

The girl in the blanket pouted and answered bluntly.

Upon this the peasant laughed out loud amused.

"Hoho, that's indeed a bother. Is the reparation getting somewhere?"

"Correct... I won't let him say 'no', now that he has made me wait this long."

"Haha... I see, I see. Then I'll give you something to eat while waiting. I'm sure it's going to fill your stomach a bit, young lady."

With these words the peasant presented two fist-size potatoes. They were wrapped up in newspaper, steam was faintly rising from it and the smell of melted butter spread out gently.

Dalian seemed bewildered and looked up to the wrinkled smiling face of the peasant.

"Is it really okay? Isn't this your breakfast...?"

"You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours, right? Accept it without reservation. Oh, or do you not like potatoes?"

The girl shook her head to the peasant's words.

She stretched out her hands equipped with protectors and accepted the warm potatoes.

"Thank you..."

She whispered and bit into the potato. Then she stuffed her cheeks wordlessly for a while.

Before long she raised her face when her potato shrunk to about the half of its size. She smiled with a face appropriate to her age, and with pour and potato peel all over the region around her lips.

"It's tasty... the best..."

"Hahaaha! Is that so? ...I'm pleased to hear that. I think there's no seasoning that can win against an empty stomach."

The peasant narrowed his eyes contently and laughed.

Wishing them a good trip, he left them with his loaded carriage. Dalian saw him off having her cheeks still stuffed with potato.

"...alright, this should do for now."

Right after this Hughy stood up with these words. He started the engine by turning around the hand crank and returned to the driver seat.

Dalian looked relieved to the sky and took seat still wearing the blanket.

The car moved off producing an awkward sound of metal smashing together. After they rode for a while on the forlorn road, Hughy seemed to have remembered something and asked gently,

"Dalian, can I have some potato, too?"

Her answer was simple.

"No. This is my potato."

"But I'm rather hungry, having been repairing all night long."

"No. It was originally your fault that we stood still there."

Hughy shook his head annoyed.

"I got it. Just give me the other one."

"Are you still half asleep? Both of them are mine."

"Please at least the half..."

"No. What a greedy man you are."

Dalian said amazed.

"Who is!"

Hughy muttered with a miserable expression.

With the two of them arguing on it, the car disappeared slowly inside the morning fog.

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