CHAPTER~19 THE GRAND DIVINE HEAVENLY OVERCOOKED BARBECUE
Iris Aethelgard.
A cheerful lady who specialized in destroying people from the inside.
If Elena von Hestia was cold, distant, and untouchable, Iris was her perfect opposite
loud, radiant, and always at the center of attention.
Black hair, deep blue eyes, and a smile so warm it made people forget common sense existed.
she is a beauty but don't judge a book by its cover
In the original story, she was one of Arthur’s eventual harem members. Not because of destiny,
compatibility, or meaningful development
but because Arthur existed in her general vicinity long enough.
Iris loved to play with hearts.
She flirted, teased, promised just enough
then moved on. Before finally “falling” for Arthur, she had already shattered more hearts than most villains destroyed villages.
And why did she fall for him?
No deep reason.
No tragic backstory.
No emotional resonance.
Just classic, industrial-grade plot armor.
Arthur smiled, the world bent, and Iris Aethelgard professional heartbreaker suddenly became loyal.
Looking at it now, it was almost impressive.
Not romantic.
Not believable.
And now
That same cheerful lady stood in front of me and Lucen.
No smile.
No playful glint.
No casual cruelty wrapped in charm.
She looked… serious.
Dangerously so.
The air around her felt tight, like a room where laughter had just died
Lucen straightened instinctively. I didn’t. Move
Iris looked at him.
Then at me.
Her blue eyes lingered for half a second too long.
Then she spoke, her tone calm, precise, and utterly devoid of warmth.
“Are you,” she asked
“the author of One Piece?”
Ah.
So this was how I died.
Not to a dragon.
Not in Friday’s battle.
But to copyright infringement and a cheerful woman with plot armor on her side.
I glanced at Lucen.
Lucen did not glance back.
Traitor.
I said no.
The word left my mouth easily. Too easily.
“I’m not.”
Iris didn’t react right away. She didn’t smile. Didn’t laugh. She just looked at Lucen.
“He confessed,” she said calmly.
Lucen stiffed
I turned slowly.
“…What?”
“I only wanted to say one thing,” Iris continued, her voice quieter now. “It’s a meaningful story.”
Huh
.
Huh huh huh
.
I blinked. “What did you mean—”
She interrupted me.
“You introduced a boy with a slingshot,” she said. “A liar. A coward. Someone everyone dismisses.”
Her eyes sharpened, not cruel—focused.
“So tell me,” she asked, “why did captain rescue him?
Why welcome him into the crew?”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
“For everyone else,” Iris said, “he’s untrustworthy. Loud. Weak.”
She paused.
“But to me… he was a kind boy who loved his mother.”
Her fingers tightened slightly at her side.
“We both only had mothers so i can understand his Lies
The hallway felt smaller.
Lucen didn’t breathe.
And for the first time since I met Iris Aethelgard, she wasn’t playing with anyone’s heart.
She was exposing her own
After that, she left.
No dramatic exit.
No lingering smile.
Just a quiet turn and the soft echo of footsteps fading down the hall.
I stood there, mouth slightly open, brain buffering.
For exactly three seconds.
Then I looked at Lucen.
“Well?” I said. “Lover boy. Do you have something you’d like to say?”
Lucen flinched.
“I—” He stopped, inhaled, then bowed his head slightly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how, but… she knows.”
I blinked. “Knows what?”
“My feelings. Toward Aria,” he said, voice tight.
She said she would interfere and destroy everything
stared at him.
Then shrugged.
“Huh. That’s rough.”
Lucen looked up, clearly expecting panic, outrage, or at least mild screaming.
“But,” I added, “past is past. She didn’t seem hostile.”
A pause.
“…For now.”
Lucen didn’t relax.
I tilted my head, eyes narrowing slightly.
“By the way.”
He stiffened.
“So you’re saying,” I continued casually, “you are saying you have feelings for Aria?”
Lucen’s face turned red so fast it looked medically concerning.
“I— That’s— It’s not—”
He turned.
And walked away.
Quickly.
Very quickly
I watched his retreating back disappear around the corner.
So innocent
Then I remembered.
Friday’s battles were coming.
Last time,
I survived because they looked down on me.
Because no one thought I was worth the effort
This time?
That wouldn’t be the case..
System
Ding!
___________________________________________________
Strength: 8.5
Mana: 9.4
Agility: 7.7
Endurance: 7
Charm: 4
Luck: -11.7
Passive Traits:
• Weapon Handling Boost
• Sense — Enhanced Reaction Window (+0.2s)
Unique Trait:
• Mana Insight — Increases efficiency of non-standard spellcasting
Spell Unlocked:
• [High Pressure Water Cannon]
___________________________________________________
“Ahhh… it’s still pathetic.”
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
Disappointed.
“Hey—shut up,” I muttered. “It’s not that bad.”
The System did not respond.
Which somehow felt worse.
I looked back at the numbers,
eyes lingering on one line.
Mana: 9.4
…That wasn’t bad.
Actually, that was good.
If I wanted to win Friday’s battle, I couldn’t rely on luck again.
I couldn’t rely on people underestimating me.
I needed something new.
Something like the Water Cannon.
Water.
I froze.
“…Wait.”
My thoughts began accelerating, stacking on top of each other in a way that only happened when something dangerous was about to be born.
Does that work
I ran to my dorm
Inside, I shut the door and spread my hands, summoning a thin layer of water between my palms
I didn’t attack with it.
I didn’t shape it into anything impressive.
I just sprayed it—enough to make a person thoroughly, undeniably wet.
No elegance.
No technique.
Just moisture.
Then I closed my eyes and began to imagine a new spell.
Not power.
Not output.
“…Phew,” I muttered.
That was when something went wrong.
There was a sharp explosion not loud, but just abrupt
Lucen heard it.
He heard it very clearly
He burst into my room without knocking, already halfway into combat posture and froze.
There I stood.
Hair standing in every possible direction.
Clothes smoking gently.
The faint smell of something between burnt feathers and regret filled the room.
I looked like a chicken barbecue that had been overcooked on purpose.
“Phs,” I said, smoke drifting out of my mouth.
Lucan stared.
Then blinked.
Then turned his head away.
His shoulders started shaking.
He failed.
Completely.
“I” he tried.
“I really tried—”
He bent over, laughing so hard he had to grab the bed for support.
“I leave you alone for five minutes,” he wheezed, “and you cook yourself.”
I glared at him, my face still twitching.
“This,” I said hoarsely, “was a controlled test.”
Lucan wiped a tear from his eye.
“Of what?
I looked down at my hands.
The water was gone.
The mana was gone.
…Something promising,” I said finally.
Lucen laughed again.
And for once, I let him.
System Notification:
[New Spell Acquired: THE GRAND DIVINE HEAVENLY OVERCOOKED BARBEQUE]
…
I stared at the message.
Slowly.
“…I want a refund.”
The system, as expected, did not respond.
Lucen was still laughing. Not polite laughter. Not restrained laughter.
The kind where your shoulders shake and your dignity leaves the room before you do.
I sat down on my bed exhaling slowly.
My mana pool felt hollow, like someone had scraped the inside clean with a spoon. No ache. No pain. Just… absence.
That was new.
Usually, when I overused mana, there was backlash burning nerves, blurred vision, the system nagging me about inefficiency.
This time?
Nothing
.
I flexed my fingers. No tremor.
Interesting.
Lucen finally calmed down enough to speak. “So,” he said, still grinning, “what was that supposed to be?”
“A mistake,” I replied flatly.
He raised an eyebrow.
“A useful one.”
That wiped the smile off his face.
Friday’s battles surfaced in my mind again.
This time, no one would underestimate me.
This time, luck alone wouldn’t be enough.
And as if the system had been listening
which it probably had
Ding.
I froze. “Oh no That sound never means anything good.”
A translucent panel unfolded in front of me.
System Notification
Hidden Luck-Based Quest Triggered
[Trial of Unreasonable Survival]
OBJECTIVE;
• Survive the upcoming Friday Battle
• Display at least one action that contradicts expected combat logic
Optional Condition (Luck Route);
• BEAT A HIGHER CLASS ELITE
Rewards:
• Luck +1.23
• ???
Failure Penalty:
• Luck recalibrated (FORCED)
• You will be compelled to write 5,000 words of 'Elegant Flower Poetry' per day for 10 days
I felt a shiver run down my spine. Flower poetry? That was a fate worse than death.
"System," I whispered, "you really know how to hit where it hurts.
I stared at the word FORCED.
If my luck dropped any lower, I wouldn't just trip over my own feet; I’d probably accidentally trigger a dormant ancient curse just by breathing too loudly.
My current -11.7 was already a miracle of survival. A "recalibration" would turn my life into a 24/7 slapstick horror movie.
"Lucen," I said, my voice still sounding like I’d swallowed a handful of hot gravel.
"Yeah?" he asked, finally stopping his shaking.
"If I start writing poetry about flowers next week... just kill me. Don't hesitate. Don't ask questions. Just end it
