TPFR 01

Chapter 1

The Lily of the Valley of Sanbertal

There was once a perfumer who created fragrances unlike any other in the world.

The leader of the Inquisitors who had pursued her shouted in front of the final temple of Varin, the God of Crossroads and Stars.

“Criminal Prim! Open the door!”

Despite the fierce shouting from outside, the woman walked toward the altar inside the temple as if she could not hear a thing.

Bloody footprints trailed behind her, one after another.

At last, she stood before the altar.

A statue of a faceless angel lay there, split in half and thrown into disarray across the altar.

Prim collapsed to her knees before it.

In a hoarse voice, she whispered,

“…Varin.”

The forgotten god, whom no one had called upon for so long, did not answer her now.

“Is it because I chose the wrong path? Is this my punishment?”

Tears continued to stream down her cheeks.

“If that’s the case… then why Rosien instead of me…?”

She raised the perfume bottle in her hand. Her trembling hand made the pale, luminous liquid inside sway as well.

Within that rippling liquid, Prim saw the vision of a young man with red hair.

She even saw him collapse, scattering blood as red as his hair.

At that very moment, the voices outside grew louder until, at last, they shattered the temple doors.

BOOOOM!

The Inquisitors stormed inside, their armor clanking.

“Criminal Prim! Don’t move!”

Prim recognized the face of the Inquisitor at the front.

Sebardo Rickhart, a follower of Yulveron, the God of Justice and Pride.

He had often stayed by Rosien’s side, urging him to become a knight. He had repeatedly told Rosien that he possessed extraordinary talent.

Yet the face he turned toward Prim now was stained with miserable resentment.

“By the command of Yulveron, God of Justice and Pride, and by the arrangements of His Holiness, the Seat of God, the criminal Prim is hereby placed under arrest!”

Sebardo drew his sword.

A fragrance blessed by the gods covered the blade, proving that he had come this far under divine command.

“For the crime of monopolizing fragrance ingredients and persecuting secular perfumers, thereby obstructing the extermination of magical beasts! For the crime of inciting Rosien Ardor to commit various crimes! For the crime of ultimately driving Rosien Ardor into mortal danger and causing his death! And finally, for creating a fragrance capable of killing people, thereby proving yourself unworthy of being a perfumer!

“Therefore, we, the Inquisitors, shall confiscate the aforementioned perfume and transport the criminal to Luminoxia Isla!”

The tip of the Inquisitor’s sword trembled.

His aged face looked almost as though he were pleading with her.

Prim quietly thought about the charges they had recited.

They were right.

Instead of bringing Prim into the light, Rosien had fallen into the darkness and ruled as the Lord of the Caverns.

He had done it for the things she had wanted, even though she had never asked him to.

And Rosien had not even left a corpse behind after his final journey to obtain the fragrance ingredients she desired.

All that had returned to her were the ingredients she had wanted and a handful of his red hair.

And the perfume completed through that sacrifice was now in her hand.

None of the ingredients’ toxicity had been removed.

It was filled with a fragrant, deadly poison.

Prim thought:

There was no reason for her to go on anymore.

At last, the sun completely disappeared below the horizon, and the surroundings fell into deathly silence.

“Criminal Prim…!”

Before they could finish urging her to surrender, Prim opened the bottle in her hand and threw away its cap.

The exquisite cap, crafted by the finest glassmaker in the Empire, struck the floor and shattered into countless pieces. It gave off one last faint glimmer before disappearing into the darkness.

“You’d better not come any closer.”

Prim lifted the bottle as she spoke.

The very fragrance known as the “scent that kills people” began to spread from the bottle.

The first thing they sensed was the rich fragrance of white flowers, almost enough to make their stomachs churn.

It was the intense scent of white flowers blooming under the night sky, mingled with the heavy fragrance of flowers that had been crushed and were beginning to rot.

Then, a green scent as clear as a fresh spring flowed through it.

It was a crisp, clean fragrance that purified the intensity around it and awakened the mind, accompanied by a refreshing scent like water washing everything away.

As the smell of earth rose with it, as though someone had fallen in a garden drenched in early-morning dew, a warm woody fragrance emerged and embraced everything.

It carried a mixture of acidity and sweetness, as though fruit and chocolate had been crushed together in a bowl made of old wood.

Even the Inquisitors’ expressions softened without them realizing it.

“This feels just like standing in the middle of a garden where every flower is blooming and withering at the same time…”

Someone murmured absentmindedly before hurriedly covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve.

Only Sebardo kept his sword raised and shouted,

“Prim! Stop!”

But Prim poured the perfume straight over her own head.

Everyone could only stare, unable to understand what they were seeing.

Sebardo suddenly cried out as if he had been struck across the face.

“N-No! Don’t! Prim!”

It sounded less like anger at the actions of a criminal and more like utter despair.

The transparent green liquid flowed down over Prim’s closed eyes, soaking her face like tears.

The fragrance that had seemed simply beautiful now smelled overwhelmingly intense.

As the scent filled the ruined temple, Prim distinguished each of the ingredients she had put into it, one by one.

It was what she had spent her entire life doing.

Jasmine.

Blackcurrant shoots.

A tiny amount of lily.

The Lily of the Valley of Sanbertal.

And the resin of an old agarwood tree wounded by a magical beast…

Before long, Prim suddenly coughed up blood and collapsed.

A stabbing pain spread throughout her body, as though countless needles were swimming through her veins.

The knights could not bring themselves to approach her.

As she slowly died within her own fragrance, Prim remembered her earliest childhood.

The days when she rode on Rosien’s back as they wandered through the forest, picking flowers, were already becoming hazy.

Nothing matters anymore… if he isn’t coming back…

That was when it happened.

From the perfume spilled across the altar, light slowly began to sprout.

Then the light split into countless rays and filled the ruined temple.

In an instant, the darkness vanished and dawn arrived.

From somewhere came the sound of something flapping.

It sounded as though an enormous flower bud had finally burst open in bloom.

It was like the fluttering of a massive cloak.

Or perhaps the beating of an angel’s wings.

As a brilliant musical sound rang out, a voice could be heard from within her heart—or perhaps from somewhere beyond it.

It was the voice of a god, gently vibrating as it filled her from her ears all the way down to her lungs.

—Oh, little lily of the valley! When great power dwells within a great fragrance, I have descended!

The mysterious voice sounded like the plucking of strings, or like many tiny bells ringing all at once.

Prim’s body, which had been lying on the floor, slowly began to rise.

As the blood soaking her body was washed away, as though a god were cleansing a little lamb, Prim was able to open her eyes.

Even as Death reached out to claim her, Prim took in the sight of the god before her.

It was neither day nor night.

Behind the god stretched dozens of crossroads, all glowing in brilliant colors. Flowers and trees flourished along every path.

Only the god’s face could not be seen, as though it were hidden behind a veil.

Varin spoke with benevolence, as though he had made the Inquisitors, frozen like lifeless statues, into his angels.

—Little lily of the valley, look at me. Your fragrance has made me this powerful, so I shall bless your fragrance and grant the wish you desire.

The air trembled softly.

Within the beautiful, deadly fragrance that could kill a person, only the god was vividly alive.

“…Then please bring him back to life.”

Even though she had never dreamed she would meet a god, even though she could never have imagined herself in such a situation, those words flowed from her lips as though she had been waiting to say them all along.

The god’s voice answered.

—Of course I can bring him back. But, little lily of the valley, is that truly what you desire?

Two paths appeared before Prim.

—I can bring him back to life at this very moment, or I can return to him the things he lost.

Along one path, a bright red rose swayed gently in the breeze.

Along the other, the rose grew smaller and younger. Its extended stem curled back in on itself until it became a tiny red shoot.

It was as though time itself were being rewound.

—Now, my little lily of the valley. Which path will you choose?