|“||This body, this heart, and this sword in my hands, shall be forever loyal to you!||”|
He has incredible fighting strength and was born to battle. His grand status makes people think of him as somewhat arrogant. Whatever the issue, he prefers to use brute force to solve it. He hates Red Wine the most and frequently gets into physical conflicts with him.
Steak is the perfect source of protein. However, the debate between medium, rare and well-done will always continue.
How to Acquire
blue = lvl 1red = max lvl
|Contract||This body, this heart, and this sword in my hands, shall be forever loyal to you!|
|Log In||Attendant, you didn't encounter any danger while you were outside, did you?|
|Ice Arena||That scoundrel Red Wine, just looking at him makes me mad!|
|Skills||Get away from me!!!|
|Ascend||I've become stronger again? Good, this way you'll be safer.|
|Fatigue||My shoulders are sore, I'm gonna take a bath.|
|Recovering||Well, this isn't too bad!|
|Team Formation||Let's go! Watch me put an end to these traitors!|
|Knockout||Huh... such a pity!|
|Idle 1||I really loath people who are full of nonsense.|
|Idle 2||Red wine! Get out here, right now!!!|
|Interaction 1||I never use my horns as a weapon. They need to be taken very good care of.|
|Interaction 2||Fiery red colors are always exciting.|
|Interaction 3||Attendant, when there is a battle, leave it to me. You're only responsibility is to be happy.|
|Pledge||The connection between us seems to have progressed past that of master and servant... what a great honor!|
|Intimacy 1||Your eyes keep on darting around.|
|Intimacy 2||I feel a burning sensation in the pit of my stomach. It's so hot I can't stand it...|
|Intimacy 3||This flower is for you! ... Well, do you like it?|
|Wish of Dreams event.|
|Contents of this page has been fan-translated by SDMayo and may not be completely accurate.|
Official translations will be added whenever it's available.
The first time I met Red Wine was in an exceedingly beautiful flower garden.
The garden was filled with exotic and fragile blooms, like roses, lilies, and other flowers I didn't know the names of.
The owner of the flower garden was a pretty young woman, who was, according to my Master Attendant, his fiancée. Although this fierce and independent hothead was easier to get along with than those demure and waifish noblewomen, her Food Soul was one hell of an annoying bastard.
Despite being a man, he was afraid of getting sweaty, and always wore clothes that were difficult to fight in. He had a habit of swirling his wine glass before drinking it, claiming that doing so improved the flavor. He hated the fact that I was always dressed for battle, claiming it was ‘inelegant.’ He was a troublesome bastard, and he pissed me off.
When I saw him, he was leaning against a wall to hide in its shadow, drinking his wine as if he had no care in the world, although I noticed him glancing from time to time at the idiot couple presently engaged in a furious lovers' quarrel.
Tch, drinking wine in the day.
Just like I hated him, it seemed he didn’t like me either. Sparks flew every time we had the misfortune of meeting each other.
When it came down to communication between men, fists spoke better and much more happily than words.
Unexpectedly, this bastard who never looked like he had done an honest day’s work in his life was talented. From his clean stance to the speed at which his blade struck, it was clear he possessed accomplished skill with his saber.
Excitedly, I grabbed hold of my two swords, charging straight for the fool. Heaven knows how long it’s been since I last had a good fight.
Yet the bliss of battle was brief, and it was only whenever we exchanged blows that I found him even remotely agreeable.
As soon as the latest scrap was over, he would wrinkle his brow and dust himself off with a look of scorn on his face. Most of the time, he would disappear somewhere to grab a change of clothes.
Tch, to think a grown man would be so conceited.
At some point in time, I found that Red Wine would often seem to lose himself while hiding in the shade. He would stare at his Master Attendant, or stare at his own hands, without seeming to see anything at all.
I never understood why this happened to him until one day, during our now regular fights, his saber carved a long gash into my skin. The man who would usually mock and taunt me without pause suddenly wrinkled his brow, and stared at the blood on his saber.
“… …Blood… …ugh…”
“The hell are you doing!? You better not be trying to surrender now!”
I raised my hand and slammed it down on his shoulder, seemingly jolting him awake. He furiously knocked away my hand with surprising force. I rubbed my aching hand, glaring at him silently.
I’d known for some time. He’d been troubled over his unpleasant reaction to blood. He was afraid that he would one day turn into something like those legendary monsters, and hurt his Master Attendant, or those around him. Still, these seemed like fairly trivial matters, I could not understand why he would spend so much time worrying about something that simple.
“You’ve seen it yourself, you can’t even beat me. If what’s troubling you comes to pass, I’ll definitely be there to kill you myself."
His Master Attendant wouldn’t fear him over something so trivial, and nobody would ever blame him anyway. I couldn’t bring myself to hate him over this either. Hasn’t he realized that it wasn't his attraction to blood but his stinking attitude and personality that were pissing people off more?
My Master Attendant is an idiot.
If not for that one incident, the distance between him and his beloved would likely have grown.
Still, one of the good things to come from the incident was that he mistakenly assumed the girl had died and bellowed his true feelings from the depths of his heart. From thereafter, the news of his tearful confession to the girl spread throughout the streets of the kingdom, and even the king playfully teased him about it. It was just as well the girl, who was already in love with him, was so deeply moved by his confession too.
When they first met, I had not yet been summoned. Still, as they left this world, Red Wine and I stood by their sides.
Time, to humans, was infinitely cruel.
The seasons passed, and time marched on. Even the intense blaze of their romance could not stand against the passage of time.
The years of war and battle had covered Master Attendant’s body in scars and wounds. Slowly, but surely, the silver haired old man began to draw his last breaths.
As I stood by his sickbed, I saw a worried look in his eyes and wrinkled brow, so I dragged over a stool and sat down by his side.
“Go on. I know you have something to say.”
“How many years have we been together? I’m about to die and you still can’t say anything nice. Cough cough…”
“People say creations take after their masters. The same goes for us. I’ll leave you alone if you don’t spit it out.”
“Fine, I’ll say it. Look, I know I’m about to die. Still, the one thing I just can’t leave alone is her, you know that right?”
“What, are you telling me to play caretaker on your deathbed?”
“That’s one way of putting it. I’d like you to take care of her for me once I’m gone. Also, please take care of Red Wine.”
“Why the hell do I have to look after him!?”
“The one she’s most concerned for, after me, would be Red Wine. You two have a good thing going right? I leave it in your capable hands.”
“…Where the hell did you get the impression we had a good relationship from!? … Fine, if this is what both you and Madam wish for, then I’ll look after that bastard for you two.”
I honor all my oaths. Still, I had not imagined that one half of this oath would have terminated so soon. Madam passed away a mere two days after Master Attendant died, and was laid to rest by his side.
I looked at Red Wine, still staring fixedly at Madam’s body, and couldn’t resist hitting him hard at the back of his head.
“Hey, how long do you want to keep staring? Madam’s gone. She won’t wake up even if you keep looking at her.”
In the next second, we were fighting each other again. This time, as if by some unspoken agreement, neither of us used the weapons at our waists. Instead, our fists helped to release the burden and sadness in both our hearts.
I expected the wretch to leave once the fight was over. However, he looked over at me with a strange expression on his face, as if he had been forced to swallow something bitter, and couldn't refuse. We stared at each other coldly for some time, until, finally, I broke the silence.
“Join my Knights. Your swordsmanship isn’t bad. You could probably pass.”
Ugh. I didn’t think Red Wine could punch that hard.
The Knights of the Holy Sword had been founded a long time ago, and were older than even the kingdom our Master Attendants had resided in.
The liege of the Kingdom changed. Relatives of our Master Attendants, covetous of the power of Food Souls, repeatedly destroyed and besmirched the good impression of humanity our Master Attendants had given us. In the end, we chose to leave this land filled with memories.
Yet, undesirable humans tended to be attracted toward uncontracted Food Souls. Although Red Wine and I never saw eye to eye, we were able to arrive at the same decisions without ever speaking, a skill honed from our countless fights and brawls over the years. Such was the strength of our unspoken bond that it felt like just the two of us was sufficient to shatter all obstacles.
To a Food Soul without a goal, time was like a curse. To me, it was a blessing.
I had more time to do what I wanted to do, to protect whom I wanted to protect, and to eliminate everything that I wished to eliminate. Time bestowed on a Food Soul a privilege in never having to worry about becoming too old or too frail to wield his dual swords to cut down the opponent in front of him.
Red Wine and I had our differences on what to call the Knights. Still, when a request came in, addressed to the Knights, he never rebuffed it. The requests could be as simple as helping old men repair their roofs, or as tough as killing a rampaging Fallen Angel.
Still, strange things had been happening lately.
Whenever we were assigned to slay Fallen Angels, cold arrows would be fired from some remote corner or angle in our direction.
These incidents led me to grow suspicious that something sinister was targeting Red Wine. After all, all those projectiles had been aimed directly at him.
Gingerbread raised her shield, once again deflecting the cold arrows fired at Red Wine’s exposed back. She furiously glared at the direction the cold arrows had come from. However, as she started to charge, Red Wine held her back. He was staring icily in the same direction as her, but he was also trying to play it off as if it were nothing important.
“Don’t mind them. It’s just some pesky bugs.”
“It’ll be alright. If we pay them any mind, they’ll try even harder next time. Let them be.”
He would also frequently receive letters from an unknown recipient, which had ended up in the hands of a messenger, Gingerbread or even myself. Each and every time he received a letter, he would silently burn the letter without reading it, as if it were a trivial matter that he was determined to ignore.
I once asked him if he knew who had been targeting him, yet he waved off my concerns and told me to mind my own business.
Still, I could not help wanting to find which bastard had the balls to mess with my brother-in-arms. He was a member of the Knights of the Holy Sword after all.
IV. The Truth
It was extremely easy to discover the instigator behind these incidents. Red Wine had made no attempt to actually hide the letters he received apart from burning them, and it was a simple matter of tracing the letter back to the villain orchestrating the ambushes.
I returned alone to the soil we once called home, and walked to the decrepit remains of the castle that the incident had occurred in. It was as unsettling now as it had been all those years ago.
I tightened my grip on the swords in my hands and kicked open the gates of the castle.
This was where the perpetrator of the murder spree had lived. The place should have been empty and deserted. However, the instant the doors were open, cold arrows shrouded in an eerie gloom flew at me from my side.
I easily deflected the projectiles with a wave of my hand and glared at the repulsive ruin, which had not lost the pungent haze of blood and gore even after all these years.
“Who’s there! Come out now!”
The moment the shifty scoundrel stepped out of the shadows, I could instantly feel and smell the horrific miasma of blood that seemed to cling to his body, seemingly thick enough to provoke hallucinations.
I’d seen him before. At that bohemian banquet the murderer had thrown to choose her sacrifices. He had held Master Attendant’s beloved in his arms.
If we had been a moment later, Madam might have become the next sacrifice.
He possessed divine features, and stood next to a stone pillar, a look of innocent shock on his face. Had I not known the truth of what happened that day, I probably would have been fooled too.
He told me that Red Wine had instigated the horrific murders in the capital, and the dead girls had all been killed by Red Wine, whereas he and his Master Attendant were framed and made scapegoats. All because Red Wine had lusted after blood.
I watched the man work himself into a frenzy telling his story, and could not help heaving a deep sigh.
“He’s been lying to you this whole time, just so he can remain by your side! He’s after your blood! He wants to turn you into his next sacrifice!”
He seemed to think he had managed to convince me, and he started walking towards me. Foolish. I knew that he was hiding a poisoned dagger behind his back.
Red Wine, as much of a bastard as he was, wouldn’t even touch a bowl of fish soup that smelt too strong, let alone let his face and clothes to be dirtied with stinking blood. In addition, I’d met one of the girls who died before. She had stared at Red Wine with eyes of pure devotion and wonder, and Red Wine’s had returned the gaze with, at least for that bastard, could pass for warmth and tenderness.
The scoundrel in front of me could only dodge as my two swords scythed the air where he was standing a moment earlier. Despite his ambush failing, his smile grew wider and more sinister. In the next instant, he had activated some mechanism on the wall next to him, and a wall of flame burst out of the ground between us.
“Why don’t you believe me… You should know by now he’s nothing more than a bloodthirsty demon!”
“Do you know how much I hate him?”
“Of course I do! That’s why I can help you!”
“Do you know how much you have to understand someone in order to hate him?”
“…Why do you keep helping him? Am I not as good as he? I’ve done everything for you!”
“I don’t need any of that. I am a member of the Knights of the Holy Sword. He is my brother-in-arms. I will not allow you to mock him, to mock us, with a flimsy excuse like that.”
The fire blazed higher now, igniting the wooden furniture. The villain behind the wall of fire knit his brows in deep thought. Then, I could only watch as he activated another mechanism, opening a secret passage into the bowels of the castle. Before he left, he turned to me with an unfathomable expression in his eyes, then plunged into the darkness of the passage.
Years of experience told me that this man was not as simple as he had appeared to be, and that the outcome of angering him as I had done would not be a good one. Still, I did not care how dreadful the outcome might be. I had my principles, and I would not allow anyone to sully them.
Steak was summoned by a knight.
The knight was blonde haired and blue eyed, born to a noble family, and strong and fit. He was the knight of every girl’s dreams.
It was a shame that the knight seemed to lack a brain capable of allowing him to process romance. More's the pity, the knight’s Food Soul also had fantastic looks and a great body. Compared to the Food Soul, the Master Attendant was merely another face in the crowd.
This Food Soul, who carried his dual swords with him everywhere and anywhere, was dependable and loyal, possessing all the traits of a knight.
Aside from being first into the fray when fighting Fallen Angels, he would also help the elderly to repair leaks in their roofs on his days off, and help lost children find their parents without ever complaining.
He was someone who would go out of his way to help anybody, but his mouth was rude and incapable of speaking words in a manner that didn’t infuriate the listener.
“I…I like your Master Attendant! Could you help me pass this letter to him… I-I know he has a fiancée… but these are my true feelings…”
“If you know he has a fiancée already, the hell you trying to start an affair? You know that’s not allowed right?”
“….!? I hate you!!”
…Just like that, the number of people he had offended grew.
And the one most infuriated by him was the Food Soul of his Master Attendant’s fiancée, Red Wine. Red Wine was a Food Soul who seemed to possess noble breeding and refinement, but even he was often driven to violence by Steak’s attitude and tone.
Of course, Steak didn’t take kindly to Red Wine either.
Red Wine was accustomed to doing things elegantly, which often entailed minor actions and movements Steak considered a waste of time and effort. And of course, Red Wine kept many secrets.
All these things pissed Steak off.
Still, as they began to interact more frequently, Steak realized that Red Wine was much more than what he had initially believed.
When faced with injustice, Red Wine was often the first to act. He treated girls and women gently and protected his Master Attendant like a doting brother. He also possessed combat ability comparable to Steak’s.
These factors reduced Steak’s initial hate for Red Wine. They would sit together drinking like sworn brothers and would still duel frequently, neither giving an inch to the other. Most of the time, however, they would bicker incessantly over some trivial dispute.
Still, Steak was by no means a considerate fellow. When he realized his horrible friend was getting depressed and allowing himself to be filled with self-doubt over a trivial matter, he choose an inelegant and brash method of forcing Red Wine into the sunlight.
Red Wine had always been terrified of his own fascination with blood, and constantly lived in fear that he would one day harm those around him. Steak, who was arguably the person closest to him at the time, did not advise him gently, nor did he scorn him, and did not even bring up the matter. As if Red Wine’s fears were so minute and inconsequential that Steak could not be bothered with them. Through his actions, he silently showed Red Wine that neither he, nor those who cared for him, were worried about his fascination with blood. Given that fact, why should Red Wine be scared of that aspect of himself too?
Once, having drunk themselves into a stupor, Steak unsteadily asked Red Wine,
“Do… do you *hic* shtand in the shade… because you’re afraid of hurting those around you *hic*.”
“… …You think too much. I just hate sweating.”
It didn’t matter how Red Wine replied to Steak’s question. Even Gingerbread, who was sitting on her own some distance away, knew that of all the people in this world, only Steak could have made Red Wine reveal that expression.
What not even Gingerbread knew was that Steak had also shown panic and concern for Red Wine.
On the day the mass murderer had been dealt with, Steak had charged headlong into the castle. Upon hearing that Red Wine had been invited by the murderer to her private quarters, he had bellowed with rage at the top of his voice. He knew Red Wine was not the type of person who could be brought low by a paltry human being, but he had still lost his composure, worried for Red Wine’s safety.
Perhaps even he was unaware of what the uneasy feelings he had felt at that moment actually meant.
Of course, that was just one more reason for him to hate Red Wine.
- Translator’s Note: Steak actually says Roses, Chinese Roses (which have fairly different names in Chinese). Sounds a bit strange in English so I changed Chinese Roses to lilies.