King's Soup

When Aivina came to find Manus at lunchtime, he was reading a book called Talking to Your Wand.

Aivina blinked. She happened to have read that book before, and she remembered that it contained no spell knowledge at all...

It was filled with one little story after another, usually featuring various trees as the protagonists, though there were magical creatures as well. Overall, it was a children's storybook even more whimsical than The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

The reason such a book could be found in the library was not because the wizarding ancestor who had placed it there possessed a childlike heart, but because the author's surname was Ollivander.

Written by Britain's renowned wandmaking family and bearing such a title, the book had led many to suspect that it was not as simple as it appeared.

Many wizards throughout history had claimed to have cracked the book's secrets, but it was still passed down as a fairy-tale book today. What became of those people's research was therefore self-evident.

Seeing that her son was not poring over spellbooks but instead enjoying a fairy-tale book, Aivina's lips curved slightly.

Even if he was a genius, he was still a child after all...

"Manu, it's time for lunch."

As Aivina approached Manus, she deliberately made her footsteps heavier to announce her arrival.

"So? Did you find any books you liked?"

"I did!"

Pulling his gaze away and recalling what he had gained from this visit to the library, Manus could not help beaming.

"Mom, can I take some books back to read?"

"Of course. Take the one you're reading now with you too."

Aivina smiled and ruffled her son's soft, lightly curled pale blond hair, which he had inherited from her.

"You probably won't have time to come back and read after this. Once lunch is over, the guests will start arriving one after another before long."

Although most of the banquet would consist of the adults socializing, this birthday banquet was meant to announce that Manus had been acknowledged as a descendant of the King Family. Naturally, he could not be absent.

Lunch had not been cooked by Aivina, but prepared by the King Family's house-elves. Besides Nati, the King Family had four other house-elves, each responsible for different household duties.

The first thing served was a small bowl of soup for everyone. Grandfather said to them, "Come, try our family's traditional soup dish—King's Soup (the King Family's soup?)."

Griffin stirred the soup in front of him with his spoon. Grayish-brown granules flickered in and out of view within the dark brown broth, along with some large, unidentifiable lumps.

"Ah... that familiar look and taste."

There was something subtle in his tone: nostalgia, mixed with a certain stiffness, as though he were holding back something difficult to put into words.

In the end, Griffin said nothing. He merely scooped up a spoonful and put it into his mouth, and the next instant, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Huh? What did that reaction mean...?

Manus cautiously tried to taste the meat soup before him. Yet the moment he brought the spoon close, his throat churned, and he nearly opened his mouth and vomited.

Such... such a vicious taste...

What was this stuff?

It smelled so foul, so fishy, like vomit and rotting organs had been mixed together.

Though it was laced with familiar spices, those flavors instead seemed to be clearing the way for the stench and fishiness, allowing those bizarre, horrifying tastes to strike at the most vulnerable part of one's heart.

Especially since the smell could only be detected when one leaned close to the soup. That instant contrast was truly...

Looking at the slightly cloudy brown broth in his spoon, Manus's eyes had already welled up even though he had not tasted it yet.

Though it looked poor and delivered an even more devastating assault on the nose, putting the spoon back into the bowl was clearly not an option with everyone watching.

So Manus silently cast [Resistance Boost] on himself.

Driven by an incomparably powerful, pure, and resolute emotion, this Prestidigitation worked perfectly on Manus's taste buds, blocking all the flavors he had absolutely no desire to experience.

The next moment, the spoonful of meat soup entered his mouth, and Manus felt as though he had drunk a mouthful of slightly thickened plain water.

No, even plain water had a taste. This mouthful had no flavor whatsoever apart from its texture.

That meant there was not a single flavor in that spoonful of soup that Manus could accept, so his magic had blocked them all.

Realizing this, Manus smiled in relief and lifted the bowl before him, taking several large gulps.

Griffin's spoon clanged against the side of his bowl. He stared straight at Manus, his expression a mixture of confusion and shock, before looking at the meat soup in front of him with disbelief.

After hesitating for several seconds, Griffin lifted his bowl and took a huge gulp. He nearly vomited on the spot, forcing his throat to swallow the soup with difficulty. The way he looked at Manus changed completely.

No... son, you actually like this stuff?

Your mother and I never deprived you when it came to food. Don't frame me like this!

Griffin's expression was so obvious that Grandfather gave him a suspicious look, pondered for a moment, then withdrew his gaze.

When Manus set down his bowl, only a little soup and residue remained at the bottom. He had no interest whatsoever in putting the solids into his mouth and savoring them; drinking the soup like water was enough.

"What a good child..."

Grandfather glanced at his bowl and could not help laughing.

After some explanation, Manus learned that this soup was connected to an acquaintance—Count Westcott.

At the time, after generations of reckless extravagance, the King Family had long since become nothing more than a glittering shell. If things continued like that, magic would keep them from starving or freezing to death, but their standard of living would no longer even be worthy of being called respectable.

What followed was a rather cliché-sounding inspirational story. Count Westcott cooked a bowl of unbelievably horrible meat soup, and after drinking it, made the decision that went against his ancestors: to do business with Muggles.

How should he put it... It actually sounded rather fake.

The main issue was that a family of spellcasters, driven into a corner, had thought of trading with people who could not use magic—and that this method had actually saved the family in the end. To Manus, it sounded utterly ridiculous.

This was clearly the kind of little story made up to remind later generations to cherish the wealth they possessed.

But... when Manus thought of Aunt Eileen's standard of living, he inexplicably felt that the story did have a few points of plausibility.

All he could say was that wizards' culture and way of thinking were simply too marvelous. Manus still needed to take his time learning about them.