Mushoku Tensei: Jobless Reincarnation Volume 19

“…Delicious,” Benedikte mumbled as she continued eating.

“Indeed, it is.” Pax resumed his dining as well. Being a voracious
eater, he requested extra helpings several times until the pot was completely
empty. “Hmph, what do you think of that, Death God Randolph? We finished
your entire stew. It was delectable.”

“Yes, it is a great honor indeed to have you both polish off the entire
pot.”

Pax narrowed his eyes. “And? When will it kick in?”

“When will what kick in?”

“Do you truly think I didn’t notice? With that numb tingling on my
tongue?”

“Ooh! That. Yes, well, you should notice the effects any moment now,”
Randolph answered with a snicker.

Any moment, huh?

Pax leaned back, gazing up at the sky. How long had it been since he
last dined outside? Perhaps it had been the first time ever for Benedikte. No
matter how coldly a member of the royal family was treated by their kin, it
didn’t change how suffocating their life was. If anything, the ostracism meant
the family was reluctant to let them outside at all, instead confining them to
the walls of the palace.

At least his last moments were beneath a sunny, blue sky, and he’d
eaten a delicious meal before the end. There could be no more pleasant way
to go. It was as if his very soul had been cleansed.

“Feeling relaxed now, aren’t you?” Randolph asked. “Sanshok seeds
have a strong tranquilizing effect.”

“Sanshok?” Pax repeated, bewildered.

“Yes. It’s the best spice for calming one’s emotions when they’re
depressed or irritated. I truly did want the squires to try it as well…”

“So it’s not poison?”

“Poison?” Randolph blinked at him. “Oh, well, Sanshok seeds do have
a poisonous color to them. Many people tend to avoid consuming it for that
reason, yes. But you needn’t worry. Not a single soul has perished from

eating it. Hm? But you mentioned the tingling sensation on your tongue—does
that mean you knew I had used Sanshok?”

“N-no, I had a feeling you’d used something, but not quite that!”

As Randolph tilted his head, the realization finally hit Pax—this man
had truly only intended to treat those squires to a meal, nothing more.

“Yes, I see, Sanshok!” Pax nodded to himself. “I was almost certain
you’d taken the skin of a Kiban and added that to the stew.”

“Ohh, yes, Kiban skin does make the tongue tingle as well. But you
see, Kiban skin can’t give the stew that delectable purple hue, now can it?”

Pax nodded thoughtfully. “True enough. Yes, your ingenuity was quite
impressive!”

“Heh heh, I appreciate you saying that. It was worth having that
ingredient brought in all the way from the Demon Continent.” The way
Randolph smiled almost seemed to suggest he had completely seen through
Pax’s bravado.

“Well, enough of this! Benedikte, let us be off!” Unable to withstand
the man’s penetrating gaze, Pax shot to his feet. “I have my studies and magic
practice to attend to this afternoon. I have no time to dawdle here, engaging
in small talk!”

“All right,” she mumbled.

Pax straightened his shoulders and began to totter off with Benedikte
close behind him. They didn’t make it too far before Randolph called after
them.

“Um, Prince Pax?”

“What is it?” Pax glanced over his shoulder.

Randolph sported his usual creepy smile. Yet he seemed a bit anxious,
rubbing his hands together as he worked up the courage to ask, “Would it be
at all possible for me to serve you a meal again in the future?”

“Very well. Your cooking is delicious, after all.” Pax quickly
delivered his answer and turned away to leave. Although he’d been
unnecessarily anxious about the meal being poisoned, the stew itself was
scrumptious. Those unusual flavors were unlikely to suit most people’s

palates, but Pax had never had anything like it. If Randolph was keen on
serving him something like that again, he had no reason to refuse. He wasn’t
lying when he said he was a gourmet with finicky tastes.

“Thank you,” said Randolph, bowing his head low.

After that, Pax began periodically eating Randolph’s cooking.

***

“In hindsight, I really had resigned myself to death back then,” Pax
mumbled, as he revisited the distant past in his head.

He currently stood on a staircase landing. The nearby window gave
him a glimpse of the world outside the castle. Fires dotted the landscape,
smoke signals rising like pillars here and there. He heard no voices from
here, but he could sense the crowds below.

Pax was inside Shirone Castle, a place he’d arrived at after recklessly
plunging ahead until he’d clawed his way onto the throne.

“I would have preferred not to hear the truth until my dying days,”
Randolph replied, standing beside the king and gazing down at the world
below. He’d removed his eyepatch, and the eye underneath emitted a glaring
light. “I was really happy, you know? To hear you say my cooking was
delicious.”

“Don’t start that. It may not have looked appetizing, but I wasn’t lying
to you when I said it was good,” Pax said.

“Hehe, it’s hard to believe you when I now know you thought I meant
to poison you.”

Their voices swelled with emotion as they conversed, gazing through
the glass. Inconsequential happenstance had brought them together, and even
after their initial meeting, nothing particularly exciting or significant took
place. All that happened was that each time Pax and Benedikte sampled
Randolph’s cooking, they praised its taste. They would chat a bit while he
was concocting his odd dishes, but they’d go their separate ways once the
meal was over. The cycle repeated numerous times until Randolph realized
how often he was in Pax’s company. It would be a stretch to call Pax his

pupil or apprentice, but he did offer some advice on swordsmanship and
magic.

“In the end, you and Benedikte are my only allies,” Pax said as he
watched the people gathered outside.

They knew not all of the people out there were enemies; a knight had
risked his life to venture out and bring back a scouting report. Yes, not all of
them were against him, but Pax knew that they weren’t in support of him
either. The vast majority of Shirone hadn’t welcomed his ascension to the
throne. They could be his enemies under the right circumstances, but they
could never be his allies.

“Why do people hate me so?”

It had been that way his entire life. No one ever allied themselves with
him. Perhaps his appearance repulsed them; perhaps he simply had no talent
for finding comrades. Pax honestly had no clue. He had tried his best in his
own way, but for all his efforts, only Benedikte and Randolph had come to
his side. Maybe if he had conducted himself better, Zanoba and Rudeus—and
maybe even the knights that had died—might have been willing to stand with
him. It was too late to reflect on that now.

“Good question. People are often terrified of me as well, and I haven’t
the faintest idea why either,” Randolph said, as if trying to comfort him. But
in Randolph’s case, it was no doubt because of his appearance. If only he
could do something about that skeletal face and that unsettling smile, things
might change a little.

Actually, even with those problems, Randolph had still gained the
respect of the King Dragon Realm’s High General and numerous swordsmen.
Pax had nothing like that. He’d become king, and now had both a wife he
loved and an excellent subordinate. But alas, that was no way to run a
country. He couldn’t win the recognition of the masses.

Maybe he’d gone about this the wrong way, but the fact remained that
had too few people in his corner. He no longer knew what to do to bolster his
supporters. He needed comrades, but he had no clue how to get them. Pax
was now at a loss for what to do.

“Randolph,” he said.

“Yes?”

“When I die, take Benedikte with you and escape from here.”

Randolph swallowed a breath. In the dozen or so years he’d lived
through numerous battles, never once had another person made him cognizant
of his own breathing, but he suddenly found his awareness heightened now.

“Go back to the King Dragon Realm. When my child is born, impart to
them your swordsmanship and culinary talents.”

Randolph said nothing.

“Academia as well,” Pax added. “Given the parentage of our child,
there’s no way they’ll appoint them a tutor. I’m entrusting their care to you.”

Again, Randolph was silent.

“And I’d ask you to compliment them as much as possible. I doubt
Benedikte will be able to do that herself. Neither of us was ever
complimented much.”

Finally he found his voice and said, “Um, Your Majesty?”

A rare expression crossed Randolph’s face, one he never displayed to
others, neither before nor after he came to be called the Death God. In fact,
after becoming one of the Seven Great Powers, he’d killed so many men—
tens of thousands of them—that he stopped seeing them as people. In all his
long years he had only made such a face on a select few occasions. This was
the look of someone who didn’t want the other person to die.

“What is it?” Pax asked.

“You know, I like you,” Randolph said.

But he couldn’t bring himself to ask Pax not to die. He was the Death
God, after all. Being fifth of the Seven Great Powers, he’d seen countless
men die. He’d seen numerous people choose a noble death over a
meaningless life. He’d paid his respects to every one of them.

The man before Randolph was a king. He had a stunted body, was
unloved by his people, had suffered civil war immediately after his
ascension, and would probably be forgotten in the long term, snuffed out from
the annals of history. But he was a king, nonetheless. He’d done his part to
earn the people’s acknowledgement and ascended to the throne. It made sense
that he wanted to die as a king. His pride compelled him.

“That’s why I’ll be sure to carry out your order, even at the cost of my
own life,” Randolph finished.

“I trust you will.”

Randolph Marianne may have been called a Death God by others, but
a true god of death he was not. He knew of the man who’d carried the title
before him. The former Death God would always listen to the words of the
dying before they passed. He would honor their dignity and protect it until
their last breath. This was why he had come to be called a Death God.
Randolph had followed his example, because Randolph respected him more
than any other—and had even inherited his name.

“Well, it seems the sun is about to set.” Having gotten the answer he
wanted, Pax tore his gaze from the scenery outside and headed toward his
bedroom. “I’m going to go bid my farewell to Benedikte. It’ll be our last
tryst. Will you make sure no one interrupts before we are finished?”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Pax disappeared inside the room, and Randolph took up his position
outside. After a while, he got tired of standing and went downstairs to fetch a
chair. One he was seated, he propped his elbows against his knees and
interlaced his fingers, resting his chin upon them. He kept his gaze locked on
the stairs and the window that sat just beyond them. It was as though he
wanted to burn the sight—Pax’s last glimpse at the city he’d ruled—into his
mind’s eye.

“To be honest, I rather wish you wouldn’t die,” Randolph muttered as
he slowly closed his eyes.

About the Author:
Rifujin na Magonote

Resides in Gifu Prefecture. Loves fighting games and cream puffs.
Inspired by other published works on the website Let’s be Novelists, they
created the web novel Mushoku Tensei. They instantly gained the support of
readers, hitting number one on the site’s combined popularity rankings within
one year of publication.

“Never put your public image ahead of your own happiness,” advises
the author wisely.

Thank you for reading!

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