Valkyrie Flavor Tasting Guide

“That depends on your efforts,” Lu Mo’s fingertips gently traced her skin, which was slightly flushed with emotion, his voice full of undisguised amusement. “In short, I won’t kill you. But… just like I said, I also won’t let you leave.”

"Aren't you afraid..." Ragnar endured the unsettling sensation from his fingertips, trying to regain even the slightest bit of the initiative, "that after discovering our entire team is missing, will Schicksal... continue to send troops?"

“In your memory,” Lu Mo chuckled, a compassionate expression on his face that seemed to convey “caring for the mentally challenged,” “besides those who have already sacrificed themselves, Destiny… there was also the S-rank Valkyrie?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Ragnar's heart sank to the bottom.

yes……

At least... before her "sacrifice," there was no longer any S-rank Valkyrie in service in the Destiny.

Ragnar could not possibly know that, in addition to the three S-class Valkyries, Schicksal now also has several powerful Herrschers.

“…The fourth question,” Ragnar’s voice took on a distinctly self-deprecating hoarse tone, “what…will I offer in exchange?”

"What, so proactive?" Upon hearing this, Lu Mo's smile deepened. He even took a half-step back, pretending to be serious, and said in an exaggerated tone, "You wouldn't happen to... want it, would you?"

Clearly, all of this was orchestrated by him, a series of humiliating and humiliating "tortures."

At this moment, his words seemed to portray Ragnar as someone who was willingly, even eagerly, selling his body in exchange for a pitiful amount of information.

This shameless "slander," which was full of distortion of the truth, caused an inappropriate look of shame and indignation to appear on Ragnar's otherwise composed face.

"you……!"

"Alright," Lu Mo didn't give her any more chances to keep being stubborn. He extended his hand again, "Since you're... being so proactive..."

"Then I...have no choice but to...receive it reluctantly."

Soon, after that “intense” and “deep” “exchange”, Ragnar was forced to change into a black and white maid outfit that was full of shame and humiliation.

"Why are you so shy?" Lu Mo admired the stunning "painting" in front of him, which was full of unexpected charm, and his voice was undisguisedly playful. "It's not like you've never worn it before."

He remembered that his lovely little Rita had embarked on the "path of no return" as a "maid" all because of this strict "mentor" in front of him.

"I...I've never worn this before..."

Ragnar, who had been looking resistant, instantly understood what was going on with that incongruous "combat armor" worn by the "Saintess" back then.

That garment was not "armor" at all.

In essence, it's just a "maid outfit" that was specially "modified" to please a certain "master" with a perverse sense of humor!

No, this "work of art" was less like "clothing" and more like a few pieces of "fig leaf," making Ragnar feel every inch of his skin tremble with shame in the cold air.

"If you want your team to be well, then you'd better wear this and serve me obediently, otherwise..."

"You know."

What will happen to the lives of the stormtroopers?

Ragnar had no idea that this was only the beginning of her breakdown—from the moment she opened her eyes the next morning, everything that happened in the cabin was challenging her common sense.

As the first rays of dawn pierced through the gap in the curtains, waking her from her restless, light sleep, the first sound she heard was Beatrice's gentle yet authoritative voice, full of the professional demeanor of a "head maid."

Although we're not close, is it really okay for you to have such high maid skills, senior?

Although I'm also a Valkyrie and a maid, I don't really have the right to say anything.

"Miss Ragnar, it's time to get up. It's time for your morning exercise."

Beatrice had already walked gracefully to her.

“Our way of doing morning exercises here might be slightly different from what you’re used to…” Beatrice smiled a perfect, “kind” smile. “As a newcomer, let me give you some proper guidance.”

There's no trace of pretense about this senior... Could it be that this person is actually a living doll made from the senior's corpse?

Although he was temporarily trapped here, that did not prevent Ragnar from analyzing Beatrice's identity—a possibility that could also explain Lu Mo's words.

As Beatrice spoke, she demonstrated the first, eerily strange "morning exercise" movement to Ragnar in an impeccable manner, full of "teaching" implications.

She knelt down, put her hands behind her back, and slowly lowered herself until her entire body was completely on the carpet.

Then, in a posture that tested her core strength to the extreme, she lifted her lower back upwards, her entire body forming a perfect curve that was both extremely alluring and perfectly balanced.

"—This is the first step in serving the master." Her voice was pure and clear, as if she were explaining the most basic fighting stance.

Upon seeing this highly impactful "teaching demonstration," Ragnar's mind went completely blank for a moment.

What... what kind of "morning exercise" is this?!

What made her even more uncomfortable was... every technique Beatrice used to exert force, every detail of her center of gravity control.

That kind of instruction method is considered a standard, formulaic teaching method.

A technique originally intended for combat was being used here... in a posture that was full of humility and even flattery, meant to please men.

I felt a strange sense of...absurdity.

However, Beatrice's attitude suggests that she sees this as part of the battle.

"Serving her master is her battle."

This seemingly distorted common sense in the other person's perception made her feel that something about herself was being ruthlessly trampled on.

Especially when I saw my respected senior become like this.

However, she no longer had the right to refuse.

Ultimately, under Beatrice's gaze, which was full of "gentleness" and "encouragement," Ragnar could only follow her movements, feeling uncomfortable all over.

He suppressed this humiliation, which was enough to tear his soul apart, and imitated her posture.

Just then, the bedroom door was slowly pushed open.

The man, who seemed to have appeared at the perfect moment, stood before them with a relaxed expression.

Lu Mo's face showed a hint of languor from just waking up, and... satisfaction at seeing two "exquisite breakfasts" that had been prepared in advance.

He didn't go forward immediately, but instead leaned leisurely against the door frame, looking at me with a scrutinizing gaze.

It seems that

"Hmm...not bad." He nodded, as if commenting on some insignificant work of art. "However, Ragnar...your sincerity seems...not quite enough."

His gaze landed precisely on Ragnar's back, which was so contorted with extreme shame and anger that it nearly ripped her maid outfit.

Beatrice understood immediately. She slowly crawled to Ragnar's side, who remained frozen in place, and whispered in her ear with a gentle tone, full of the concern of a senior for a junior:

“No, Miss Ragnar… when greeting the master, your body… cannot be so stiff.”

As she spoke, she began to "deconstruct" Ragnar's movements with small, suggestive gestures that seemed to be "relaxing her muscles" but were actually controlled within a certain range.

"You must... learn to completely open your body..." Her voice had no seductive quality, but it still seemed to have a magical power, "Let your master... feel your most real, most tender... passion."

I don't have that kind of enthusiasm...

Ragnar thought to herself, but it seemed that the saintess's charm was something she couldn't resist.

Seeing this development, she somewhat hoped that her consciousness would be affected in the same way as this senior.

This was too hard for her to accept.

"Well……!"

The unfamiliar, ambiguous touch caused Ragnar's body to tremble uncontrollably.

Although the Tachibana style is popular, Ragnar doesn't consider himself one of them.

However, when Beatrice touched her, she still had an indescribable feeling.

Lu Mo, however, took all of this into account.

It wasn't until he confirmed that Ragnar's fragile will to resist such things had begun to crumble under Beatrice's "professional" guidance that he realized it.

He slowly took a step, like an emperor surveying his territory, and walked up to the two of them.

He ignored Ragnar, who was now completely "ready." Instead, he walked straight to Beatrice, who was still maintaining a "perfect demonstration" and wearing an impeccable smile.

Then, under Ragnar's gaze, which was filled with complex emotions, he slowly bent down.

The "reward" of the morning was bestowed upon that... more "obedient," "good child."

"Excellent, very well taught."

"Then the master has good taste."

How could someone have bad taste?

He has only the most beautiful women in the world.

Ragnar is a tier below, but not bad either.

With that, he ignored the two perfectly formed bodies behind him, still maintaining that pose, and walked straight toward the bathroom.

"Follow...follow..." Beatrice's voice was filled with excitement because of the previous reward.

She slowly rose from the carpet, pulled up the still petrified "junior," and together they walked towards the bathroom.

The scene inside the bathroom once again dealt an unprecedented and severe blow to Ragnar's worldview.

She saw that the woman, who looked about 50% like Beatrice, was lying face down on the ground, just like a real "washbasin."

On her back, steadily placed, was a basin filled with clear water, made of an unknown metal—if Kiana wanted, she could easily make a basin for Lu Mo with Soul Steel, but that wasn't the case.

The woman named Cocolia knelt on both knees, a toothbrush with freshly squeezed toothpaste in her mouth, waiting obsequiously for her "master's" "favor".

Ragnar watched as Lu Mo, completely at ease, enjoyed being served by the two men in this inefficient yet luxurious way, his mind reeling.

The scene, filled with absurdity and extravagance, made her feel that her common sense was being crushed bit by bit, mercilessly and completely.

“Miss Ragnar,” Beatrice’s voice rang in her ears again just as she felt her thoughts were about to be completely overwhelmed by the intense shock, “Next, it is our turn to prepare towels for our master…”

As she spoke, Beatrice, right in front of her, very naturally began to unbutton her maid outfit, which was filled with an ambiguous atmosphere, one button at a time.

Then, she picked up a dry, white bath towel, but instead of using her hands, she... let the towel hang on her body.

Then Ragnar went blank again.

I only have one thought—the Saintess's skin seems even darker than Bianca's...

Shortly after,

A more visually striking scene, capable of shattering the "new common sense" she had just barely established, suddenly appeared before her eyes.

In the kitchen, the figure resembling the Second Herrscher was seen using its body to hold a large bucket of milk, keeping it warm.

Using a Herrscher's body heat to keep milk warm—that's something that probably doesn't happen anywhere else in the world.

"My dear daughter, you've worked hard. Now, I'll take over the rest."

The person who called Sirin's daughter was none other than Cocolia.

Although this wasn't the kind of mother Sirin wanted in the original story.

In the original story, Sirin is indeed Cocolia's biological daughter.

Lu Mo did this intentionally.

The conversation between the two made Ragnar feel as if his brain was about to be completely burned out by the constant barrage of information.

The two of them actually...

“Alright,” Lu Mo’s voice broke the eerie silence.

He walked behind Cocolia, in a posture that seemed to be "inspecting the results".

He gently patted her full body, which was tense with nervousness. "How's the milk preparation going today?"

“…Reporting to Master,” Cocolia’s voice, tinged with an obvious weariness and allure, “is ready…to be enjoyed… at any time…”

As she spoke, she slowly rose from the wooden tub that they had already warmed by holding it, revealing the half-full tub beneath, exuding a rich aroma and mellow warmth...

—Pure white, “fresh milk”.

Is this... the "breakfast" in this house?

Although drinking milk is perfectly normal, Ragnar instinctively felt that this milk probably wasn't anything normal.

Ragnar stared blankly as Beatrice casually picked up an exquisite glass from the side, scooped out a cup of warm "milk" filled with "love" from the ominous wooden bucket, and then respectfully handed it to her contented "master."

She saw the man drink the liquid in his glass in one gulp, a look of utter satisfaction on his face.

She saw even more...

After Beatrice and Sirin each finished their strange "drink," the woman Lu Mo called "Feather Rabbit," who was as delicate as a doll, appeared at the door at some point.