The Genius Perfumer of the Fallen Cult ā Chapter 1
Chapter 1: The Lily of the Valley of Saint Bertal
There once was a perfumer who created fragrances unlike anything the world had ever known.
Among the inquisitors who had chased her down, the one standing at the front shouted in front of the last temple of Varin, the god of crossroads and stars.
āCriminal Prim! Open the door!ā
Though the fierce shouting echoed outside, the woman walked toward the altar inside the temple as if she could not hear it at all.
Behind her, bloody footprints trailed across the floor.
At last she stopped before the altar.
The statue of a faceless angel lay split in half, scattered across it.
Before it, she collapsed to her knees as if falling.
With a hoarse voice, she whispered,
āā¦Varin.ā
The god who had not been called upon for so longāforgotten by everyoneādid not answer now.
āDid I take the wrong path?
Is that why I am being punished like this?ā
Her cheeks were soaked with endless tears.
āIf thatās the caseā¦ then why not meā¦ why Rosienā¦!ā
She raised the perfume bottle clutched in her hand. Her hand trembled, and the faintly glowing liquid inside the bottle shook with it.
Inside the wavering liquid, Prim saw the illusion of a young man with red hair.
She saw him collapse, scattering blood as red as his hair.
At that moment, the voices outside grew louder and louder until the temple doors were finally smashed open.
BANG!
With the clatter of armor, the inquisitors stormed inside.
āCriminal Prim! Donāt move!ā
Prim recognized the face of the inquisitor at the front.
Sebardo Rikhart, a devotee of Yulberon, the god of justice and arrogance.
He had once stood beside Rosien and encouraged him to become a knightāsaying many times that Rosien possessed exceptional talent.
But the expression on his face now was stained with miserable resentment.
āBy the command of Yulberon, god of justice and arrogance, and by the arrangement of His Holiness the High Seat, the criminal Prim is to be taken into custody!ā
Sebardo drew his sword. A fragrance blessed by the gods coated it, proving he had come here under divine command.
āYou are charged with monopolizing perfume ingredients and persecuting secular perfumers, thereby obstructing the subjugation of demonic beasts!
You are charged with inciting Rosien Ardor to commit numerous crimes!
You are charged with ultimately driving Rosien Ardor to his death!
And lastly, you created a fragrance that kills people, making you unworthy of being called a perfumer!
Therefore, we inquisitors will confiscate that perfume and escort the criminal to Luminoxia Ayla!ā
The tip of the inquisitorās sword trembled slightly. The older manās face looked almost as if he were pleading.
Prim quietly considered the charges they recited.
They were right.
Rosien had lifted her into the light while he himself fell into the darkness, ruling as the lord of the undergroundāfor the things she wanted, though she had never asked for them.
And in the end, during a journey to obtain the ingredients she desired, Rosien left behind not even a corpse.
All that returned to her were the ingredients she wantedā¦ and a handful of red hair.
And the perfume completed with that sacrifice was now in her hand.
A perfume filled with fragrant poison, with none of the ingredientsā toxicity purified.
Prim thought,
There is nothing left for me to continue living for.
At last, the sunset disappeared completely, and the surroundings fell silent as death.
āCriminal Primā!ā
Before they could finish urging her, Prim opened the bottle in her hand and threw the lid aside.
The exquisite lid crafted by the empireās finest glass artisan shattered against the floor, giving off one final faint glimmer before sinking into darkness.
āYouād better not come any closer.ā
Prim raised the bottle as she spoke.
The very āfragrance that kills peopleā began to spread from it.
The first scent that emerged was that of rich white flowers, thick enough to make oneās stomach churn.
The scent of white blossoms blooming in the nightāflowers crushed and rotting, yet intensely fragrant.
Among them flowed a green scent like clear spring water.
A pure, refreshing fragrance that cleansed the surrounding intensity and awakened the mindāa brisk, watery freshness that seemed to wash everything away.
Then, like falling in a garden heavy with morning dew, the smell of soil rose up.
Finally, a warm woody scent enveloped everything.
It was like fruit and chocolate crushed together in a bowl carved from old woodāsweet and slightly sour at once.
Even the inquisitorsā expressions softened without realizing it.
āItās like standing in the middle of a garden where every flower blooms and falls at onceā¦ā
Someone murmured in a daze before hastily covering their mouth and nose with their sleeve.
Only Sebardo did not lower his sword.
āPrim! Stop!ā
But Prim simply poured the perfume over her own head.
Everyone stared at the scene, unable to understand.
Sebardo suddenly shouted as if struck across the face.
āN-No! Donāt do it, Prim!ā
His voice sounded less like anger toward a criminal and more like deep despair.
The transparent green liquid flowed over Primās closed eyes like tears.
The pleasant fragrance grew unbearably strong.
As the scent filled the ruined temple, Prim began to identify each ingredient she had mixed into itāsomething she had done all her life.
Jasmine.
Blackcurrant buds.
A small amount of lily.
The lily of the valley of Saint Bertal.
And the resin of an old agarwood tree wounded by a demonic beastā¦
Not long after, Prim coughed up blood and collapsed.
Pain pierced through her body like needles swimming through her veins.
The knights could not bring themselves to approach her.
As she died within her own fragrance, Prim remembered her childhood.
The days she rode on Rosienās back through the forest, picking flowers together.
Nothing mattersā¦ if he wonāt come backā¦
At that momentā
From the perfume spilled upon the altar, a light slowly began to bloom.
Then beams of light burst forth, filling the ruined temple.
In an instant the darkness vanished, and dawn arrived.
A fluttering sound echoed from somewhereālike a massive flower bud finally bursting into bloom.
It sounded like a great cloak rustling.
Or perhaps the beating of an angelās wings.
At the same time, a clear musical tone rang out.
And a voice spokeāfrom within her heart, or from beyond.
It was the voice of a god, gently vibrating from her ears to the depths of her lungs.
āOh, little lily of the valley! Great fragrance carries great power. Thus I have descended!
The voice sounded like plucked strings, or like many small bells ringing at once.
Primās body slowly rose from the ground.
As if a god were washing a lamb, the blood covering her body was cleansed away.
Prim opened her eyes.
Even as death still clung to her, she saw the god before her.
It was neither day nor night.
Behind the god stretched dozens of crossroads, each glowing with different colors, each path filled with flowers and trees.
But the godās face remained hidden, as if veiled.
The inquisitors stood frozen like taxidermied figures, as if they had become the godās angels.
Varin spoke generously.
āLittle lily of the valley, look upon me. Your fragrance has strengthened me so greatly that I have descended. I will bless your fragrance and grant what you desire.
The air trembled softly.
Within the deadly yet beautiful fragrance, only the god stood vividly alive.
āā¦Then please save him.ā
Though she had never imagined meeting a god, though this situation was beyond anything she had dreamedā
The words flowed out as if they had been waiting.
The god replied.
āOf course I can save him. But little lily of the valley, is that truly your wish?
Before Prim, two branching paths appeared.
āI could revive him in this very momentā¦ or I could restore what he once lost.
On one path, bright red roses bloomed, swaying gently in the wind.
On the other path, those roses shrank.
They became younger.
Their long stems curled inward until they returned to small red sproutsālike time itself reversing.
āNow, my lily of the valley. Which path will you choose?
