Greg blinked. True confusion was written across his fire-lit face, as if he genuinely had no idea why Lilith was suddenly blowing her top.
“What's wrong?” he asked, his tone almost innocent. “Didn't you ask me how I thought they compared?”
“I was asking about their strength! Their strength!”
Lilith was practically yelling, her cheeks flushed crimson with rage and embarrassment. “Who asked for... for that kind of evaluation!”
Greg blinked in surprise. Realization dawned on his face, followed immediately by a flicker of... disappointment.
“Oh, you meant their strength...”
His tone and expression made him look like someone who had just been told their long-awaited surprise party was canceled.
After all, in his mind, “Lily,” a minor mob character in this Galgame, was supposed to be like every other background extra—obsessed with gossiping about the heroines' romantic entanglements, or harboring a secret crush on the protagonist or one of the heroines.
So when Lily had asked him how he thought Victoria and the others compared, Greg had already drafted the entire conversational script in his head:
Step one: offer a precise critique of the three heroines' physical traits, exactly as he had just done.
Step two: Lily would nod in excited agreement and say, “Right?! I think so too!”
Step three: he would smoothly steer the topic deeper, wearing the warm smile of an understanding big brother as he asked, “Out of those three, there must be one you care about the most, right?”
Step four: like any maiden in love, Lily would wave her hands in panic with a blushing face, protesting, “N-No! I don't think like that at all!”
Step five: he would reassure her with utmost sincerity, “Don't worry, I won't tell a soul. Just give me an initial. Tell me the first letter of their name, and I promise to keep it a secret.”
Step six: relenting, Lily would shyly whisper her confession, “I guess I can't hide it from you... but you really can't tell anyone, okay? The person I care about is...”
In his imagination, this was supposed to be a warm, friendly gossiping session filled with girlish secrets.
He could even picture Lily's eyes sparkling as she excitedly shared, “Her Highness looked so cool on the training field today!” or “Senior Silvia is so gentle!”
But what was the actual reality?
This mob character completely strayed from the script!
Instead of cute, romantic gossip, she was asking about cold, hard power comparisons!
This was like watching the men's national football team in the World Cup qualifiers not to vent frustration, but because you actually believed they were going to win!
This was pure heresy! Completely missing the point!
A severe breach of a mob character's core duties!
However, considering she was fundamentally a good girl, Greg sighed. Like a patient senior dealing with a misguided but well-intentioned junior, he adopted a serious tone and spoke in earnest:
“Out of those three, the strongest is undoubtedly Victoria.”
“Victoria is the strongest? How is that possible?!”
Lilith stood up almost reflexively, her voice raising in disbelief.
Realizing her composure had slipped, she cleared her throat and quickly sat back down, attempting to regain her graceful image as a daughter of a wealthy merchant. However, her tone remained firmly argumentative.
“Excuse me, but what I meant to say was... Princess Lilith is a genius who mastered Flame Burst LV1 at just LV10! That's one of the highest-tier fire magic spells! In a direct clash, how could Victoria possibly be a match for Princess Lilith?”
She straightened her back and looked Greg dead in the eye, her crimson gaze practically shouting, “You have no idea what true genius means.”
Greg looked at her, a subtle “young lady, you clearly don't understand” expression gradually forming on his face.
Firelight danced in his amber eyes, giving his expression an infuriatingly knowing quality.
Indeed, in the eyes of most people, a genius who could touch the threshold of Flame Burst at LV10 was practically on a higher plane of existence compared to her peers.
In magic cultivation, tier suppression was an iron rule. Mastering a high-tier magic spell ahead of one's level required talent, resources, and effort in equal measure.
Lilith Kahn, Second Princess of the kingdom, undoubtedly possessed all three.
However, having cleared the original game eighty-one times, Greg knew that Victoria also possessed some hidden yet exceptionally powerful talents.
Thus, even if she hadn't learned a Supreme-tier magic spell from any element yet, their overall combat power remained fifty-fifty.
And where Victoria truly held the edge over Lilith was real combat experience.
When Victoria and Silvia were young, they had been trained in their village by an Archmage who had reached the Ancient Hero Realm. That Archmage's teaching style was pure Spartan: taking ice spikes to the face, having fireballs chase their rear ends, and giving lectures right beside monster nests.
Victoria's combat experience, far surpassing anyone her age, was the fruit of that hellish special training.
It was experience forged at the brink of death through countlessly dangerous fights—something a greenhouse genius could never even fathom.
In the original game, during the Placement Duel against Lilith, Victoria would use a feint to dodge the Flame Burst Lilith poured all her mana into, securing the final victory.
That moment would officially trigger Lilith's romance route: “To think you defeated me, someone who mastered Flame Burst at LV10! Hmph, what an interesting woman. You've successfully caught my attention!”
With those thoughts in mind, Greg spoke plainly:
“Just wait and see. In tomorrow's Placement Duel, Victoria will use a feint to bait out Princess Lilith's Flame Burst and win the match.”
“You talk as if you can predict the future,” Lilith retorted, clearly still unconvinced. Pride burned bright in her heart, and she refused to believe she would lose to a commoner like Victoria.
Seeing her reaction, Greg didn't bother arguing further.
From the way her chest puffed out and her eyes sparkled whenever she mentioned “Princess Lilith,” he could infer:
This fellow student, Lily Carlo, was most likely a member of Lilith's fan club.
Although members of these fan clubs possessed a fanatical devotion, they never obstructed the heroines from achieving happiness; they merely watched over them quietly from the shadows.
So Greg didn't dislike them.
The skewers were ready. The outer layer was golden-brown and crispy, with rendered fat glistening temptingly in the firelight. A unique fragrance, mixed with spices native to the dungeon, relentlessly tickled their noses.
Greg pulled off two skewers and handed one to Lilith.
“Want a taste?”
Lilith pursed her lips, still stewing over his ridiculous prediction.
This annoying jerk! Not only did he judge me with those perverted eyes, but he also had the nerve to predict I'd lose!
As if anything he cooks could taste good!
It was probably either burnt to a crisp or totally flavorless—or spiked with some unpalatable dungeon plants!
Despite her venomous thoughts, her hand acted faster than her brain, taking the skewer from him.
Swift and crisp, without a moment's hesitation.
...Yet after taking it, she stared at the roasted meat with a complex expression, as if waging a fierce internal war.
Eat it, or don't?
If she ate it, it would feel like surrendering to this jerk.
If she didn't... but her stomach was so hungry.
She hadn't eaten a single bite since the afternoon, and after enduring the scare of falling into the river, her energy was completely depleted.
In the end, physiological needs triumphed over mental conflict.
With a critical mindset of “let me see just how terrible this tastes,” her face twisted in disgust, she took a tiny bite.
The crispy skin shattered between her teeth.
Immediately following was a piping hot, tender, and juicy sensation.
An indescribable burst of flavor exploded across her tongue.
The texture... cooked to absolute perfection.
The seasoning... rich in layers, perfectly balanced in saltiness.
Even the texture of the meat itself was smoother and juicier than certain premium cuts of steak she had tasted at royal court banquets.
Lilith froze.
She chewed slowly, her crimson eyes widening bit by bit.
The proud, critical voice in her head was instantly silenced, as if choked by an invisible hand.
Only a single thought, accompanied by the supreme bliss delivered by her taste buds, echoed loud and clear in her mind:
...Mm, so delicious.
Rate on N.U.
