The Genius Perfumer of the Fallen Cult — Chapter 4
She really was happy to hear it. But considering that she had heard those words hundreds of times before—spoken by various gods taking turns—it wasn’t something that moved her deeply anymore.
The bouquet trembled as if it were alive.
Prim watched it quietly, then added,
“I’m happy… but I’m worried you might stop in the middle again like earlier.”
— Right now you care more about the oracle than about me!
“Barin is important, so the things Barin says are important too…”
The bouquet shook again, quivering violently before finally calming down. Only then did Barin’s voice continue.
— …Then none of this ever happened. Everything becomes void.
“…?”
Prim’s eyes widened.
She had calmly responded to everything until now, but when she finally looked surprised, Barin’s voice suddenly grew smug.
— Oh, my little lily of the valley. Of course! We’ve turned back time, haven’t we? Naturally my power has returned to this point as well. The only ones who believe in me are a few of you orphans, and I’ve become a god like a baked potato that barely manages to give oracles after inhaling the scent of the bouquet you made.
In other words, not the steak on the plate.
Just asparagus on the side, maybe onions, a bit of sauce—or a baked potato.
“So?”
— So until the day you died comes again, if you do not become the greatest perfumer in this land and offer me the finest fragrance once more, this regression will be void. Invalid. A regression of the regression will occur.
“……”
A crease formed between Prim’s brows.
It felt like the sharp pain in her foot when she used to wander barefoot under the early summer sun and stepped on a thorn.
“Did you know this would happen?”
— Of course I did.
“You didn’t say anything like that… back then.”
Barin had never said that the regression would disappear if she didn’t offer another fragrance.
Barin asked in surprise,
— If I had said it, what then? Would you have refused the regression?
At the time, the only other option she had besides regression was the resurrection of Rozien after his death.
“…No. I probably wouldn’t have.”
She wanted Rozien to reclaim everything he deserved.
Even the time he had devoted to her.
Everything.
— See! I knew it! That’s why I only told you what you needed to hear.
“Then I’ll make that fragrance again.”
The scent had been filled with enough poison to easily kill someone.
But as long as no one poured it all over themselves intending to die, it would be fine.
— I told you that won’t work.
“…?”
— That fragrance already exists.
Barin continued.
— Because I know it.
“…?”
Prim blinked again.
The bouquet she had made trembled, releasing its fragrance.
Above the cheerful scent—like turning a temple into a holiday villa—Barin’s furious voice thundered.
— I told you! It was because it was a magnificent fragrance that had never existed before, created by the greatest perfumer in the world, that it gained enough power to use the Wine of Defying Heaven! So until that day comes again, you must become one of the Twelve Perfuma Aetheria, and create a fragrance that has never existed in the world, a fragrance so beautiful that even the gods have never smelled it even once! Then you must offer that fragrance to me!
Prim decided to correct something first.
“I told you before. At that time I wasn’t one of the Perfuma Aetheria.”
— What are you talking about? They all admitted in their hearts that you were the best.
“Barin wouldn’t know people’s hearts.”
Even a god could not read human hearts.
— Oh, my lily of the valley. Don’t make me angry.
“But I understand what you mean. However, is it important that I become a Perfuma Aetheria?”
— Of course it’s important! It proves that a follower of Barin is the greatest perfumer!
Prim thought it might actually be more about Barin’s pride than anything else, but she kept that to herself.
Back then, she had been a perfumer who raked in more money than any perfumer active in the secular world.
Yet she had never taken the examination, so she had not been recognized as a Perfuma Aetheria.
Perhaps making that her goal in this life wouldn’t be bad.
Prim paused and looked up at the sky.
Raindrops were still falling from the roof that hadn’t been properly repaired.
This temple was the only one Barin had left.
Even this one remained neglected because Priest Marceria was too busy caring for the orphans to repair it.
Given the situation…
“So you mean Barin needs to become first place among the thirteen gods, right?”
— Ahem. Not necessarily first place… maybe second or third…?
Could regression be maintained with only second or third place?
Prim tilted her head.
“The strongest god right now is Alendiay, correct? Could that god cause a regression like this too? Then maybe there are others who regressed…”
The bouquet shook violently at Prim’s innocent question.
— Damn it! I have to be first! Second or third is completely impossible!
“I see. Then why did you lie?”
— Ah, my little lily of the valley. Listen carefully. If you suddenly tell the last-place god that they must become first place, it might feel like too much pressure. I know this is difficult too. I just didn’t want you to feel burdened.
“Hmm… but for someone in last place, second place or first place both sound equally burdensome.”
— ……
Prim spoke as gently as possible.
“Next time you don’t have to worry about me so much. Just tell me the truth.”
— …Understood.
Barin replied weakly.
Prim quietly looked up at the raindrops that had begun to slow.
But the raindrops didn’t smell like rain.
Not the scent she knew—the smell that formed when moisture gathered and condensed in the air before falling.
These drops smelled slightly sweet.
And somewhat familiar.
Yet also unfamiliar.
Prim realized something.
This wasn’t rain.
“Barin… are you crying?”
— Wh–who’s crying?! I’m not crying!
The bouquet shook in panic.
— Don’t think I’m crying just because I’m emotional about giving so many oracles after such a long time! Absolutely not!
The tears Barin shed after drinking the fragrance she had offered were as clear and pure as filtered crystal.
They evaporated quickly, leaving only fragrance behind.
Then Barin trembled.
— Your rose is coming. Remember what I told you.
The light soon faded from the bouquet.
Just as Prim, still kneeling, gently lifted the flowers—
The temple door burst open.
“Prim! You were here!”
At the same moment, red hair spilled through the doorway like blooming roses, and a boy’s voice rang loudly.
Prim stared blankly toward the temple entrance.
A boy with eyes as green as dense forest walked straight toward her.
“You walked around again while I wasn’t here? I told you to wait until I came back!”
The boy shouted before quickly running over and lifting her up, placing her on top of the altar.
Prim looked at him.
Younger.
Alive.
Her chest tightened.
Light sparkled in his eyes.
And those eyes moved restlessly, searching her face.
Trying to interpret her silence.
Trying to see if there was something she wanted him to understand without saying it.
After studying her expression for a moment, he asked,
“Prim… did something bad happen?”
“No.”
Prim denied it immediately and firmly.
Since she gave a clear answer instead of silence, Rozien seemed slightly surprised.
“Still, don’t go anywhere alone. I told you I’d do it for you.”
He knelt down in front of her and examined her foot.
Prim’s foot was covered in blood from thorn-like wounds.
Rozien opened the lid of the canteen he always carried and gently washed her foot.
“Ow…”
“Does it hurt a lot? That’s why you should’ve waited for me.”
“I was in a hurry.”
“What could possibly be so urgent? What were you trying to do?”
The boy asked insistently, unable to contain his curiosity.
The last face she had seen of him carried a dark and savage smile.
After all, no one could keep an innocent smile while controlling all the back alleys of the imperial capital Vitrellia.
But now Rozien’s voice was bright and cheerful.
Prim felt a sharp ache in her chest.
Then she turned her gaze toward the bouquet lying beside her.
