Ascending to Immortality

Swoosh—!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The instant the sea bream slices blanketed the crystalline mountain of ice, a brilliant golden light burst forth from the dish.

Even though both Mana and Anne had witnessed glowing food before—most notably, the dazzling Comet Fried Rice—this time was just as stunning.

Then, without warning, a frigid gust of air surged outward from the dish.

The cold cut through the room like a blade of wind, rushing directly toward Mana.

The chilling air enveloped her.

Her overheated body, frenzied from withdrawal, was suddenly wrapped in cooling relief.

Her chaotic emotions, the desperate longing, began to calm—soothed by the very presence of this dish.

A kind of tranquil clarity settled over her.

"All right," Zane said, slowly putting away his knife. "This is a new dish I've been developing—"

"Frozen Sea Bream Iceberg."

"It's still incomplete. Without the Heavenly North Star Wolf Blade, I couldn't bring out its full potential."

"But even in this partial form… it should be more than enough."

He paused, glancing at Mana. "Enough to satisfy your God Tongue… and break the cycle of your food addiction."

The air hung heavy with anticipation.

The dish was breathtaking.

The translucent sashimi—delicate slices of red snapper—clung to the sides of the ice sculpture like the petals of a frostflower. Though the glow had faded, the soft shimmer of the fish, reflecting the warm light above, still made it look as if the dish had descended from another realm.

Everything about it was pristine.

Fresh. Elegant. Alive.

The best sashimi was always prepared to order—cut in the moment—because only then could the fish's flavor reach its peak.

And Zane had done all of this in less than five minutes.

One moment, the snapper was still alive in the tank.

The next, it had become a snowy masterpiece, each slice whisper-thin, resting perfectly on the icy mountain.

Anne couldn't take her eyes off it.

"So beautiful…" she murmured.

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd never believe such a dish could exist."

"Those slices, like falling snowflakes… the way they cling to the ice…"

"It's like watching a dance."

The scene was like something out of a dream.

In Japanese culture, sea bream was a symbol of grace and serenity. If one fish could embody the refined elegance of raw cuisine, it would be this one.

And now, with this Frozen Sea Bream Iceberg, that elegance had been elevated to divine artistry.

Anne had seen world-class chefs. She was a first-rate culinary executive.

But now she realized—only Zane could make a dish like this.

Beside her, Mana remained silent.

But her thoughts were far from calm.

She knew ingredients well. She had spent her life dissecting their nature—understanding what made food succeed or fail.

There were two types of exceptional ingredients:

One type had an inherent purity—ingredients so clean and distinct in flavor they needed no enhancement. Shepherd's purse, crisp cabbage, young bok choy, fresh yams—each could shine on its own.

The other type had flaws—like the gaminess of lamb or the fishiness of certain seafood. These required balance, seasoning, and technique to neutralize their shortcomings.

But in both cases—

Skill was everything.

A perfect ingredient, poorly handled, became mediocre.

A flawed ingredient, expertly cooked, could become legendary.

That's why she was skeptical.

She had tasted everything—everything. Even the rarest white sturgeon caviar had become revolting to her.

So how could a simple slice of sea bream—no seasoning, no sauce—possibly satisfy her God Tongue?

Unless…

Unless Zane had once again done the impossible.

"Why are you just standing there?" Zane asked calmly. "Eat. The freshness is already fading without the North Star Wolf Blade to stabilize it."

"If you wait too long, the ice will start to warm. The sashimi won't hold up."

Mana blinked as if waking from a trance.

"I—I'll eat now," she said hurriedly.

She reached out with trembling fingers, lifting a single slice of shimmering sashimi with her chopsticks. It was nearly translucent—so light it seemed to dissolve in the air.

She placed it gently in her mouth.

And the moment it touched her tongue—

Time stopped.

Her body stiffened. Her breathing halted.

A shiver ran down her spine.

Fresh.

Tender.

Sweet.

Icy.

All at once, her senses were overwhelmed.

The gentle resistance of the fish's texture, its delicate snap between her teeth…

The way the coldness seeped into her mouth, sharpening every sensation…

It was like a blizzard and springtime colliding on her palate.

And then—

Boom!

As she bit into the center of the slice, the flavor exploded.

Not with fireworks—

But like a frozen dam shattering to unleash a glacial river of umami and sweetness.

A flavor she'd never experienced before.

"Ah—!"

Mana gasped.

She chewed slowly, unable to stop herself.

As the sashimi warmed in her mouth, it evolved. The cold exterior gave way to a softness that melted into her tongue, releasing the full depth of its oceanic richness.

Then, she swallowed.

And the fish slid down her throat like a dragon returning to the sea.

Warmth returned to her limbs. Her chest bloomed with heat.

She exhaled softly, eyes fluttering closed.

"Mnnh…"

"So refreshing…"

"This dish… it's like nothing I've ever tasted…"

Her voice was barely a whisper.

And in that moment—

She began to float.

Not physically, but spiritually.

As if her soul had been released from its prison.

As if the weight of a lifetime of bitterness had simply… melted away.

She felt herself drifting skyward, as light as snow.

Her soul ascending.

This wasn't just a meal—

It was transcendence.