[Side Story] Not A Shrimp’s Back, But The Whale That Burst (1)

It was a summer day not long after we’d taken down the Red Dragon.

Rurin, Sereina, Elena, and I went on a summer getaway to a small uninhabited island on the Empire’s southern coast.

Truth is, there was a bit of a backstory behind this vacation.

Just a few days earlier—

Sereina and Elena came up to the restaurant for dinner. That was fine—it was part of our usual daily routine. The issue started when Rurin and Sereina got into a fight.

That day, Rurin said to Sereina:

“Just eat whatever, you Red one.”

It wasn’t a new insult, but Sereina was never the type to let it slide. Tired of the usual “Red one” jabs, she hit back with something different this time.

“You can’t even cook, and you’re telling me to eat whatever? If you’re a chef’s wife, shouldn’t you at least know how to cook?”

“Eek?! I can cook!”

“Yeah, right. I’m way better than you.”

Sereina stood up with pride, shrugging her shoulders smugly. Rurin wasn’t having it and fired back—but we were mid-shift.

I calmly walked up to the chaos-causers and laid down the law.

“Keep it up, and you’re both getting kicked out. You—to the lair. You—to the infirmary.”

“…But still!”

Rurin puffed her cheeks in protest. I’d long since learned it was better not to get involved in their fights. But now they were battling each other with glares instead. Endless, these two.

“Then settle it with a cooking contest. Stop bickering and prove it. I’ll judge.”

“A cooking contest? Sounds great. I’ll shut her up real good. You runt.”

“Don’t make me laugh. I’ll make sure you never say you’re better than me again!”

Both of them were fuming. Then Sereina glanced at me and raised a concern about fairness.

“But isn’t the judge a little biased?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’ll win with actual skill! Love, you stay fair and still. I’ve got this!”

“Oh yeah? Then let’s make it totally fair…”

“Hah. Can’t trust this at all…but well, we’ve got Elena.”

“Huh? Me?”

Sereina turned toward the bystander shrimp in this whale fight, hoping for a neutral judge.

But that little shrimp raised her hand with an unexpected proposal.

“But I want to join too! I want to compete in the cooking battle with Lady Rurin and Lady Sereina!”

“WHAAAT?!”

“It sounds fun!”

Elena hopped up with a big smile. Sereina immediately glared at her, but for some reason, Elena had developed major resistance to dragons lately—so the glare had zero effect.

And so the whole thing snowballed into this: a cooking contest held on a remote island vacation, using only ingredients found on the island for fairness.

I’d already planned to spend a few restful days here with Rurin anyway.

I’d badgered the Emperor into buying this island for me. I hadn’t visited since, but figured this was the perfect excuse. And so the cooking contest-slash-vacation began here.

An emerald-colored coastline stretched out in front of us. We set up camp in the shade just beyond the beach.

I set up cooking equipment for each of them—three sets in total.

All they had to do was gather their own ingredients and cook.

As for me? I’d just relax, admire the view, and enjoy some healing time.

“As I said, this time it’s totally fair—unlike the playful stuff you were doing at the restaurant. Just use whatever ingredients you find on the island. Same conditions for everyone. Can’t get fairer than that.”

They all nodded at the rules. The most enthusiastic nodder? Elena. Honestly, a surprising sight.

Elena… Cooking?

I mean, it makes sense—until I taught her how to make salads, she used to just rinse raw vegetables and eat them straight like a classic elf.

“I’ll do my best!”

I gave her a worried glance, but Elena was full of spirit. Hopefully, she wouldn’t just wash some greens and serve them raw.

“Alright then, shall we begin?”

“Wait a second!”

Suddenly, Rurin called out and snuck up to me, tiptoeing to whisper in my ear.

“My love… maybe just casually—GAAAH!”

She was about to suggest something underhanded, but Sereina grabbed her by the scruff and started dragging her away.

“Let me go, you old dragon!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Trying to cheat? You’re banned from talking to Elena until this is over.”

“Gasp?! That’s absurd…!”

“Then admit defeat. Hmph.”

Rurin’s jaw dropped. She looked between Sereina and me, then said:

“My love… I’m leaving you for a bit!”

“Excuse me?”

She whipped her head around and dashed off. Classic “run first, think later” Rurin.

Sereina scanned the area like she had a plan and disappeared. Elena perked her ears up, looked around, hesitated a few times, then started heading south.

Rurin just ran. Losing to a Red Dragon was absolutely unacceptable, so she was dead serious about this contest.

Truth is, the Red Dragons were nearly extinct, so interspecies hatred didn’t even matter anymore. So when Rurin said “Red Dragon,” she really meant “Sereina.”

She’d occasionally sought advice from Sereina because of Elena, but deep down, Rurin was kind of jealous of Sereina’s mature aura.

So she really, really didn’t want to lose.

Especially not in front of Elena.

Fueled by that irritation, Rurin swore she’d win this match and make Sereina kneel. Then she started scanning her surroundings.

Rurin figured simple was best for a battle like this. Just find something tasty. And especially meat—because grilling meat always worked!

Rurin’s specialty was grilling. Thanks to being tricked into grill duty by El before, she’d gotten quite good at it.

She ran for a while with that mindset—but didn’t spot any edible animals.

All she saw were grass and trees.

“Oh? That color’s pretty.”

What finally stopped her was a soft pink flower glowing faintly. Rurin padded toward it.

She liked the color so much, she crouched and stared at it for a while.

Back when she was brooding alone in her lair, she never cared about flowers. Lately though, her emotions had changed a bit.

Especially when it came to the color pink—there was something special about it.

“But this pink is prettier.”

She had a habit of comparing any pink she saw to the sparkling pink of her ring.

Naturally, Rurin started flexing her rings to the flower—waving her engagement ring around before showing off the wedding band on the other hand.

“This one’s more important, though. Hehe.”

In the end, she held up both hands to brag to a flower that couldn’t understand a word.

Roughly three minutes later, she finally realized this wasn’t the time and shot to her feet.

“Flowers aren’t tasty anyway.”

Having finished her flex, she casually turned away to resume her meat hunt.

But that’s when things went sideways. The pink flower suddenly expanded and flared its petals—lunging straight for the back of Rurin’s head.

“Wha—?”

CHOMP—!

She was swallowed whole by the now-giant flower bud. She was just the right size for a single bite.

This monster was a carnivorous plant—posing as a pretty, petite flower before devouring anything that got close.

Inside the flower, Rurin grimaced. The more she moved, the more sticky slime clung to her, layer after layer. It was a suffocating, pitch-black space filled with nothing but goo.

“What the heck is this place.”

Normally, once this slime stuck to a creature, it would paralyze them, then slowly dissolve their body for digestion. It was, in other words, digestive fluid—able to dissolve just about anything.

But “just about anything” didn’t include dragons. Frustrated, Rurin kicked the flower’s inner wall. With a solid WHUMP! a hole burst open and slime began pouring out.

“Oooh!”

Riding the ooze, Rurin slid right through the opening and landed outside on the ground. It felt kind of like going down a slide.

“That was kind of fun, actually.”

She got up with an honest review. The problem? The sticky slime wasn’t going anywhere. Outside the flower, it had lost its digestive properties—but not its ridiculous stickiness.

Every move she made, it stretched and dragged, slowing her down. No matter how much she shook it off, it clung on. And that pissed her off.

“Ughhh…”

She looked around. Nothing caught her eye—but her ears picked up the sound of water nearby. She took off in that direction.

“Ooh!”

A refreshing waterfall came into view. The pool beneath it glowed with a strange, vivid blue.

SHWAAAAHH—!

The water cascaded down energetically into a basin, then flowed downstream. It was a classic valley stream, and it looked deep—so Rurin dove in without hesitation.

SPLASH—!

The cursed slime washed off her body completely. She sank deep under, then came back up—feeling incredibly refreshed.

“That feels amazing. Ugh, I hate sticky things.”

The slime was gone, mission accomplished—Rurin started swimming to shore, but then—

“KU-KYAAK-KAAAH!”

“Huh?”

Around her, flower buds perched on lily-pad-like leaves began to attack.

Dozens of them surged toward her at high speed.

The buds all grew larger in an instant, flaring open like they were fighting over who got to eat her first.

“AAAH! That surprised me!”

Reflexively, Rurin punched the first bud that lunged at her.

“KWEEEHHK…!”

The punched bud shot out of the water—no, launched into the sky—and flew far away. But it vomited slime as it flew, so Rurin had to wash up again.

“Oho. As expected of me. Wait, that’s not the issue.”

There was no end to them. Why were these flowers so aggressive? It was absurd. And above all, she hated the slime. So sticky.

“KU-KYAAAAAH!

“KU-KYAAAAAAAH!

“Ughhh. Fine! I’ll just get rid of this whole stupid stream!”

Finally snapping, Rurin used a high-level spell and evaporated the entire waterfall and stream.

KWWWWAAAHH—!

The once-satisfying rush of water vanished in an instant. The lily-pad flowers now sat helpless on the dry riverbed, unable to move. If the previous ones were land plants, these were clearly aquatic—and now that the water was gone, so was their mobility.

“Bunch of nobodies.”

Rurin dusted off her hands and looked down. Thankfully, the slime was completely gone. She was still soaking wet, but that was way better than being sticky, so she let it slide.

“This place is full of weirdos. Why’s there no meat anywhere…?!”

Normally, Rurin wouldn’t wander around soaking wet—but with no ingredients in hand, she had no choice. So, still drenched, she started walking again.