Chapter 12
Kyria froze in fear.
People feared monsters not because they were smart, but because they were too strong.
And in terms of strength, Kyria didn’t stand a chance.
“If you come any closer… I-I won’t stay still! I’ve got my own tricks, really!”
She shouted loudly to hide her fear. But the truth was… her tricks (like scaring a wyvern or knocking out a gremlin) needed time.
Time she didn’t have—because Cerberus’s sharp fangs could tear her apart before she even grabbed a herb.
“Grrrrr…!”
Cerberus drooled, then opened all three mouths, snapping close to her face.
“W-wait! Teachers, please!” Kyria squeezed her eyes shut and yelled.
“I was going to throw that bed away anyway! Really! It’s got dog pawprints all over it. Just take it!”
She babbled as fast as she could.
A moment later, she felt the hot breath retreat.
Cerberus snorted, then proudly dragged the bed away.
“…Did I just get robbed by a hell-dog?” Kyria’s pride stung.
But it didn’t stop there.
“Tribute! Tribute!”
“Lowest rank!”
“Rrrghhh!”
One by one, weaker monsters came by. They either stole her furniture—desk, drawers, washbasin, even clothes—or smashed them to pieces for fun.
It was basically monster-style bullying. They wanted to kick her out.
“Where’s the tribute?!”
More monsters arrived, glaring at her. If she didn’t hand something over, they looked ready to tear her limb from limb.
‘So this is what living in a monster’s den really feels like…!’
Her purple eyes glowed angrily, like a furious cat.
‘These things think I’m weak? Hah! I didn’t study poisonous herbs for nothing.’
Unlike normal herbs, poisonous herbs don’t die alone.
“Give tribute!”
“Or die!”
Kyria pointed at the floor behind them.
“Check under the floorboards. I hid treasure there!”
“Treasure?!”
“Move, it’s mine first!”
The monsters rushed to rip up the floor.
Sure enough, a wooden box was hidden there.
“Treasure!!”
They fought each other, opening the box—only for white powder to spill all over their heads.
“Cough! Hack!”
“What’s this?!”
What else?
‘Medeia’s special whole-body athlete’s foot powder!’
She had hidden it, just in case monsters tried to rob her.
“It itches!”
“My head! My eyes!”
“Gyaaaaah!”
The monsters scratched themselves like crazy, rubbing their bodies against walls and floors.
Kyria used the chaos to grab her herb bag and bolt out of the room.
She didn’t even hear the voice calling after her:
“Wait a moment… oh, she’s already gone.”
It was Rohanen.
He had come to check on her safety—and saw everything.
He closed the holy book he had opened.
If the monsters had hurt her, he was ready to intervene.
But instead, he saw her turn the tables with a nasty “itching powder.”
‘That’s basically poison…’
He actually felt pity for the poor monsters scratching themselves raw.
And yet…
‘A pharmacist who carries whole-body athlete’s foot medicine around? That’s not normal… But it means she must have amazing skills.’
Maybe her strange methods were exactly what the Duke needed.
Just then, Rohanen picked up a piece of paper Kyria had dropped while running.
He read a few lines—then his eyes widened.
“…Wait, this is—?”
He gasped, then smiled in realization.
“Amazing! So that’s who she really is!”
Meanwhile, outside the fortress, Kyria caught her breath.
“Tribute? Ranking? They think they can kick me out? Lowest rank, my foot!”
She glared at the walls.
“Should I just poison the whole water supply?”
She imagined it with a wicked grin… then shook her head.
No, if the Duke got hurt too, that would be bad.
“Hmm… I need something bigger, scarier, more permanent—” cough cough!
She suddenly coughed hard, covering her mouth. Breathing was difficult.
“Huh? What’s this on the wall? Grass?”
She noticed the fortress wall was covered in weeds—no, poisonous herbs.
Even in the cracks of the stone, the plants grew thick.
“This is… too much.”
She quickly pulled out a gas mask and inspected the plant closely.
“…Wait. This is the same poisonous herb I collected yesterday in the Black Forest.”
If the same herb grew here too, then…
“Both places are full of monsters.”
Could it be that the poisonous weeds were somehow connected to monsters’ presence?
Just as she was thinking, she spotted some figures moving near the garden.
People! Servants, carrying baskets filled with weeds.
They slipped through a side door into the kitchen.
Kyria followed quietly.
Inside the kitchen, the head cook, Alma, scolded Rohanen, who was lost in thought.
“Rohanen, why are you spacing out?”
“Ah, sorry. Just… thinking.”
He took the heavy basket from a servant—filled with poisonous weeds.
Alma clicked her tongue.
“These weeds spewed poison all morning. Preparing breakfast was a nightmare.”
“No choice. These aren’t normal weeds—they’re demonic weeds from the demon realm. Did it ruin the ingredients?”
“Completely. The fresh vegetables from the South turned blue with poison. We finally had clean produce, and it’s all ruined. The young master’s health almost collapsed!”
Alma often called the Duke “young master,” since she had served him for a long time.
Rohanen gave a bitter smile. Meat was no problem, thanks to hunting and trade.
The problem was vegetables and fruit.
The North’s land was poisoned with dark magic after the Human-Demon War. Especially near the Duke’s castle, the weeds made it worse.
So even food became toxic.
Rohanen sighed. “The Duke is already sick from the Medusa curse. We can’t give him poisonous food too.”
Alma sighed too. She would give anything if she could fix this.
“Anyway, please handle it again.”
“Yes.”
Rohanen prayed over a silver bowl of water. The water glowed gold—holy water.
When he poured it on the food, the purple poison spots vanished.
But the food became shriveled and tasteless, as if days old.
“Thank you,” Alma muttered sadly, holding ruined vegetables.
Rohanen clenched his fist.
At this rate, the Duke’s food had no flavor at all. And recently, his appetite had dropped even more.
The reason?
The popularity poll.
Yesterday, after reading the magazine “From Grave to Cradle”, the Duke gave a grave order:
“Get as many copies of the newest issue as possible.”
“Why, my lord?”
“Medeia’s series is paused. The popularity poll has begun.”
“…Paused? That’s surprising, but…”
The Duke’s eyes burned.
“I won’t let her suffer last year’s humiliation again. This year, I will make her number one!”
Last year, there were 11 popular authors. Medeia ranked dead last—11th.
The Duke had been devastated.
Especially when he saw the interview of the 1st place winner.
“That should have been her spot!”
And now, with Medeia missing and her series halted, the Duke was determined to fight.
“Write a letter to the publisher. Use the teleport scroll.”
“Now, my lord? That scroll is for emergencies!”
“This is an emergency!!”
