Chapter 3
"Nnnaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!," Sir Sucre shouted, looking out at the lobby of the Pink Lady Hotel. He had spent all day slow cooking a Luboar pot roast with a special sauce made from Morijian herbs and Walanala apples, and this was the thanks he got? He was a Sucre, Hime dammit!
"Where are those ungrateful, Luneetos, nanora?," he asked the Deadbeat bellhop.
"They've all gone to Sir Manjun's, Sir, on the main way of the Little Himedom. You can't miss it, Sir."
The haughty knight huffed past him, down the cobbles of the Morijian roads, into the pink-accented buildings of the Pink Womanist district, and then the candy, crown, and moon flourishes of the Little Himedom. Several Luknights, Lubeats, and Deadbeats were milling about, there to enjoy the Lunaito delicacies or buy special Himedom imports. Some even turned to look as Rosso turned the corner onto the street with Sir Manjun’s, an ice cream shop selling specialty treats to the crowd of Monhunters assembled outside. Sir Sucre pushed his way through, hearing the excited Nnaaaas as the closest Lunaitos got their treats.
“Come one, come all, nanora!,” Sir Manjun said, wearing a traditional Luknight helmet, but a Morijian shirt and trousers underneath.
“Nnnnaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!,” Sir Sucre shouted again, “How dare you, nora!”
Lady Rochu carefully cut out a sample of the fungus from the body, placing it into an open, airtight container Morta was holding for her. Morta noticed Ro’s hands were still trembling a little.
“Relax, Lady Ro. I have severed the tendons of the subject’s core. We will not have any like incidents again.” Morta took a bone sample and snapped it open, a disconcertingly easy task for both Ro and herself. “Crystalline infection of the marrow and internal nerves,” Morta continued, as she wrote her words in a journal to her side, “Patient is showing early signs of Himemori’s Disease1, though this was not the cause of death. Actual cause of death appears to be crystalline pressure on the organs and blood vessels.”
Morta next took a sample of the skull, but received more of the same, even a few crystals growing on the brain postmortem. Rochu struggled to hold in her lunch. “Lady Morta,” she said, “I think I have a theory as to how and why these mushrooms have grown. It seems they need Mori-chuubanite to survive, but the synthesis of the Luna and Mori-type chuubanite has supercharged whatever benefit the Mori-type provided, naaaa. The extra sugar from the Luna-type couldn’t be hurting it, either.”
Of course! Pink synthesis! Morta slapped her head. How could she forget the internal color mechanics of chuubanite, and how close the color wavelengths of Mori and Luna-type were! But that meant if the beast reached that…
“Rochu, we must go. Now.”
“Sir Sucre, your ‘Lubeat Treat’,” Sir Manjun said, forcing himself into a customer-friendly air as he handed Rosso a plate with a unique dessert. It was a shortbread base, topped with imported Himedom cream, and finished off with sweet Azki bean shavings. Rosso reluctantly took a bite.
Nnnaaa! It was good, almost too good, an excellent fusion of the two culture’s cuisines. But he knew his was better. “Very good, nanora,” he confessed to the Lubeat chef, “But this is a royal Monhun, and I am the royally appointed chef, nora. I am here to provide for the hunting party, and I have a reputation to maintain, nanora.”
“Aww, can’t they have a little fun, nnaaa?,” Manjun replied, and many of the Luknights nnaaa’d in agreement.
“Nnnaaaaaa!,” Sucre shot back, angrily, “This is an attack on my ability, nanora, and against my honor as a Loyal Lunaito to the Hime!” Sir Sucre threw down his gauntlet. “A cook-off, nanora! Based on a combination of Morijian and Lunaito delicacies. The hunting party shall be the judges, nanora.”
Sir Manjun scratched the white hairs on his chin. “I accept, nanora.”
Sala rolled out his map of Moriji, pre-marked with ink dots where the beast had been sighted. “Based on the pattern of sightings of both the beast and abnormal Luna chuubanite concentrations, it is heading to the lake near Andorra.”
Tosklo curled her tail around herself with interest. These candy knights were competent than their pageantry let on. Sala moved three sharpened rods onto the map, alongside figurines of Luknights, Deadbeats, and the Salamansho. Those last ones made sense to her, but what were the rods…?
“After our skirmishes in the sea, we learned the Salamansho is not so weakened by flesh wounds. Its Deadbeatification has rendered standard attacks ineffective, nanora.” Sala picked up one of the rods. “These represent our new anti-Salamansho weapons, naaa. They are made from sugar crystals pressed in a highly specific fashion, nanora.” Sala flipped the rod in her hand to show the blunt end, where there was a circular indent. “When I strike the indent…” Sala took a small hammer from a pocket on her armor, and struck the indent, causing the rod to flare up, turning into a pinecone-shaped device. “They aren’t large, nanora, but this will expose the inner organs of the Salamansho, and cause huge tears to slow it down, naaa.”
Sala put the rod down, and Sir Morwich stepped forward. “Yes, the real things take much more effort of our sugar crafters. They are as tall as four Himesamas, and red. Since they burst into a star shape, we have taken to calling them ‘Starbursts’, nanora.”
“We, nnnaaaa?,” Sala retorted. “That’s only what you call them, nanora. They are red and vine-shaped, so obviously they are ‘Red Vines’, naaaaa.”
Sala and Sam went back and forth in a Nnaaaing contest for a while, and Tosklo shook her head. These silly Luknights are lucky to have a princess they love so much, it was hard for her to imagine them working together otherwise.
“Completely even, Nnnaaa?” Rosso asked. The Deadbeat bellhop nodded in agreement. “48 and 48, Sir Sucre.”
Just then, the bell of the Pink Lady’s entrance rang. Lady Rochu had returned from her autopsy, and Rosso rushed over to her. “Quick, nanora!,” he said, “Try each of these and pick your favorite!”
Lady Ro gave each a bite. Each was equal parts savory and sweet, but all delicious, but there was one that called out to her more.
“I like the creamy one a bit more, nanora,” she said, “It’s nice to have a taste of home. Do you know which province these beans come from, nora?”
Sir Sucre collapsed to the floor. “Nnnaaaa…..”