TGPFC 03

The Genius Perfumer of the Fallen Cult – Chapter 3

Since that day, Prim was cursed so that wherever she stepped, thorns sprouted and pierced her feet. Whatever touched the soles of her feet would grow thorns and wound them, making it impossible for Prim to even wear shoes.

At midnight, the wounds would heal as if they had been washed away. But because of that, not even calluses formed. The thorns always pierced her soft, newly healed flesh, bringing pain.

And because Prim had taken the curse in place of Rosien, Rosien carried her on his back.

Until the end of his life in the previous life.

“Ugh!”

Prim rose from her seat and groaned at the pain from the thorns sprouting beneath her feet, yet she closed her eyes and focused on her sense of smell.

A gentle breeze blew.

The scent of dusty soil, the smell of very old marble, and then from somewhere a little farther away, another fragrance drifted in.

Pale lavender heather soaked in sunlight, the bittersweet scent of small wild rose buds, the low and faint musk of pink blooming musk mallow, the earthy smell of thistles, and the cool, clean fragrance of lily of the valley blooming in the shade.

Prim opened her eyes again and began searching for the scents she had detected. From the scattered heather bushes, she snapped off the stem that carried the sweetest fragrance.

Breaking the branch of a wild rose with bare hands was painfully difficult, but she didn’t have time to go look for scissors.

‘Going back and forth again would be even harder.’

Prim glanced at the garden path dotted with her own bloody footprints and squeezed her eyes shut.

She removed the largest thorns she could before snapping the stems, but the smaller thorns still pierced her hands. Even so, Prim silently scanned her surroundings.

After gathering several stalks of musk mallow and even some thistles, it began to resemble a proper bouquet.

Lastly, in front of a cluster of lily of the valley gathered beneath a large tree, Prim hesitated for a moment.

Perhaps because it was an ingredient she had used abundantly in the perfume she had once made to die—

Just how much had she used, for Barin to call her a little lily of the valley?—

Her heart wavered slightly.

“Still… I have to.”

But even if her heart wavered, she couldn’t leave the fragrance unfinished. Prim firmly snapped off the lily of the valley.

The lily of the valley that grew only in this region was called Saint-Bertal Lily of the Valley, named after the territory. This variety had a particularly clear and vivid floral fragrance.

However, when made into perfume, its concentrated toxicity became far stronger than that of ordinary lily of the valley, making it unusable.

The perfume Prim made with this lily of the valley in her previous life had been the first—and last.

Prim inspected the condition of the flowers before adding them to the bouquet she held.

In appearance, it couldn’t compare to the bouquet Marseria had once offered and left to dry out completely, but the fragrance was different.

The slightly thirsty sweetness of wildflowers blended with the soft warmth of musk mallow, while the clear and transparent scent of lily of the valley evoked early summer morning dew.

It was as if a transparent glass bell had begun to ring—like being transported instantly to a lovely summer villa.

“Hmm.”

But it was a little different from the scent she had originally imagined.

Perhaps it was because the bitter smell of broken stems and the vivid watery scent unique to fresh flowers mixed together. Moreover, the musk mallow flowers didn’t produce quite the scent she expected.

After thinking for a moment, Prim looked around near the musk mallow.

She crushed the seeds that looked like black snail shells with a stone, and though somewhat rough, a sufficiently warm musky scent rose up.

She brushed away the crushed bits with her hand and plucked a few thyme leaves growing nearby, scattering them over the bouquet.

Then the lively fragrance of thyme, naturally full of strong vitality, lightly layered itself over the bouquet, dancing as it cheerfully revealed the refreshing heat of early summer.

A faint smile appeared on Prim’s lips as she inhaled the scent. It had been a very long time since she had created fragrance using only raw materials like this.

She felt as if she could even forget the sharp pain at her feet.

‘With this… Barin should be able to speak, right?’

Flowers and trees consume water and light.

Animals eat plants and other animals.

Magical beasts eat animals and humans.

And humans eat grain and bread.

Then what do gods eat?

Fragrance.

Gods consume well-made fragrances as their meals. From them, they gain great power, and with that power they perform miracles and deliver divine revelations.

When people witness the power of a god, believers increase.

As believers grow, so do the fragrances offered in devotion.

The god consumes those scents, becomes stronger, and the cycle continues.

Conversely, if there are no believers, no fragrances are offered.

Without them, the god’s power weakens, and with less power fewer believers remain—an endless vicious cycle.

This was exactly Barin’s case.

As time passed, he slowly faded from people’s memory. The offerings of fragrance decreased, and even the power he could exercise as a god weakened.

Now the only place that still followed him was a tiny orphanage attached to a small temple in this nearly ruined territory.

Prim tidied the altar and placed the bouquet she had just made on top.

It had been a very long time since she had handled living plants gathered together rather than refined perfume oils and essences. She felt somewhat awkward—and even slightly embarrassed.

Glancing around once for no reason, Prim clasped her hands, closed her eyes, and called the god’s name.

“Um… Barin?”

— ……

Prim slightly opened one eye.

The bouquet was quiet.

“Is this not enough?”

Just as Prim muttered that and reached to remove the bouquet, rain suddenly fell from the clear sky, and a soft light burst upward around the flowers.

Then Barin’s urgent voice rang out.

— No! You suddenly call my name without even a prayer first?!

“Oh, Barin. You were there. So if I don’t become a Perfuma and offer fragrance, what happens?”

Barin fell silent for a moment before speaking.

— …Where’s the prayer?

A prayer? What prayer?

Prim blinked.

“Does Barin… have a specific prayer?”

— Of course I do! Naturally I do! I’m a god too!

Prim rolled her eyes.

At that moment thunder suddenly struck, and raindrops began falling through the holes in the temple roof, wetting the interior.

Prim shuffled on her knees to move somewhere the rain couldn’t reach while thinking.

If even the god of a temple like this had a prayer, where could she find it?

Perhaps Priest Marseria might know…

“I’ll look for it. Later. Right now it’s impossible.”

— ……

The bouquet trembled slightly.

Seeing the movement, Prim cleared her throat.

She had always spoken directly and only about necessary matters, which was why she never had many people around her. That had been one of the things that made her final days difficult.

Prim decided to explain her reasons more clearly and ask about his well-being before getting to the point.

“I can’t search through books right now. I’ll ask the priest later. But Barin—how is the fragrance? Do you like it?”

— ……It’s… a wonderful fragrance.

Barin was actually sulking, but he answered honestly anyway.

The bouquet contained a southern summer vacation villa.

It felt like fragments of early summer gently shimmering in sunlight.

It was a fragrance warm and joyful, like dancing a waltz while splashing water droplets and becoming lightly sun-tanned.

Barin wandered through the scent and thought.

In the previous life, this was why Yulberon had hurriedly sent an Inquisitor down.

Those Inquisitors had rushed there not to execute Prim for her crimes, but to escort her.

Yulberon must have known that Prim intended to die.

And he could never allow her to die.

Even with nothing more than a bouquet made from wildflowers scattered across fields—not rare luxury ingredients or carefully cultivated flowers—she could create such fragrance.

How could anyone abandon a perfumer capable of restoring a god’s lost voice and manifesting it upon the earth?

— ……I think I’ll be able to give divine revelations for three days.

“I see. That’s good. There aren’t many proper perfume ingredients here. So about what you were saying… what happens if I don’t offer fragrance?”

— The god just praised your fragrance and that’s all you have to say?

Prim replied quickly.

“I’m very happy. Really.”