"Delicious, truly delicious!"
"Fresh meat. This is what it feels like to be alive."
"Way better than rotten fish from the sea."
The once-glorious hall had become a bloody dining room.
The once-lofty councilors had become gourmet food on the table.
"Eat. Why aren't you eating?"
And the princess who had once stood above them all was once again receiving the rare treatment befitting a "Princess." Placed on the plate was a "human," while seated at the dining table was the former human princess, now a young Fishmen matron.
She opened her mouth and tried to take a bite, but tears had appeared without her knowing when.
"Haha, look, she's crying!"
"Does she regret it, or is she scared?"
"Eat quickly, or we'll eat you!"
And this was precisely the scene those perversely amused visitors from another land had been waiting for.
They knew that such restraint was no different from crocodile tears. Soon enough—
"Delicious, delicious."
Once again, the filthy Fishmen princess opened her mouth wide, full of sharp teeth, stuffing herself while tears streamed down her face.
And her claim that it was delicious was no exaggeration. Her current taste buds told her that it was exquisitely fresh food.
". . . Why is it so delicious?"
As she spoke and ate, her tears ran dry, and drool began to spill from her mouth.
Her greedy gaze turned toward the other plates. Then a slap sent her to the floor, where she rolled about and wailed.
The surrounding lords lost interest as well. This toy had gone numb; it seemed time to find another. What they wanted was a pitiful soul struggling within a new body, not a greedy thing with no moral bottom line.
". . . How about we catch some guerrillas and Resistance Army fighters