Honkai: Oh No, I’ve Become the Herrscher of Corruption?! - Chapter 85

(Switching to Bella’s perspective…)

How does one ensure a subordinate’s loyalty? This is a question rulers have pondered for millennia throughout human civilization. The answers have always boiled down to two: benefit and emotion—with the former being far more common.

Yet no matter the method, such loyalty is never absolute. If built on benefit, it vanishes the moment someone offers greater gains or the original arrangement collapses. If rooted in emotion, it crumbles when another sways the heart more skillfully—through persuasion, manipulation, or indoctrination. Thus, humanity concluded: Absolute loyalty does not exist.

But if you asked Bella why she served Sirin, the answer would be as instinctive as humans eating when hungry or drinking when thirsty. Her loyalty stemmed neither from emotion nor benefit—it was hardwired, an innate instinct that even overrode a Honkai beast’s destructive nature.

As Benares, her mind held only two impulses: destroy and serve Sirin. Now, with human form and cognition, every thought still resolved to one word: Sirin. Since the Second Honkai War, this Judgment-class beast hadn’t killed a single person—nor even damaged a building. The reason was simple:

“If I did, Her Majesty would be displeased.”

In combat, she’d failed repeatedly: powerless to save Sirin from a pseudo-black hole’s grasp, too slow to reach her when an ice spear pierced her heart. Against any foe capable of fatally wounding Sirin, she stood no chance.

Outside battle, her inadequacy deepened. It was Anosilia who pulled Sirin from hell and granted her a normal life; Cecilia, once their enemy, who mended Sirin’s shattered psyche. Even as a living pillow, Bella fretted over her horns scratching her queen.

Beside Sirin, she felt dispensable—and her limited understanding screamed that dispensable things are discarded.

Until the second day at the island villa, when Sirin frowned after lunch.

“Your Majesty, was the meal unsatisfactory?” Bella asked timidly, clearing plates. Compared to the swill served in Babylon Tower, the lavish spread was celestial—yet Sirin felt something missing.

“Bella.”

The girl sprinted over at once. “Your orders, Your Majesty?”

Sirin studied her intently. “Can you… cook?”

“I—I can’t,” Bella stammered, shrinking under the weight of her inadequacy. A Judgment-class Honkai beast bred for battle, tasked with cooking? “But I’ll learn if you wish!”

“You have until dinner. Cream stew tonight.” Sirin rose and left without another glance.

“Understood.”

Bella dove for the computer, researching recipes from scratch. By evening, a pot of cream stew sat before Sirin. Bella stood rigid beside it, heart pounding as her queen took the first bite.

“Her expression seems neutral… At least it’s passable.”

But when Sirin stopped eating with a third left, wiping her lips, Bella’s fleeting smile died.

“I measured Her Majesty’s usual portion! Did she force herself to eat this far despite the taste? I can’t fight for her, can’t bring her joy, and now I fail at nourishing her— I truly am useless.“

Despair crashed over her. She dropped to her knees with a thud, awaiting punishment, praying silently:

“Use me as your emotional punching bag—just don’t cast me a— Huh?“

Sirin yanked her upright. Bella searched her face—no anger, no disappointment. Only a hand ruffling her hair gently:

“Bella, will you cook for me for the rest of my life?”

For a heartbeat, Bella froze. Then she nodded wildly.

“Finish the stew yourself. I’ll decide tomorrow’s menu later.”

As Sirin retreated, Bella devoured the leftovers. Though her novice attempt was mediocre, she savored every bite.

“A lifetime… A lifetime by Her Majesty’s side… I’ve found my worth…”

(Returning to the Cooking Championship…)

Against all expectations, Bella didn’t use a stove—she served glasses of limeade. By definition, it wasn’t even a dish.

But Bella knew: After Sirin’s heavy meal of stewed beef and skewers, what she craved was something refreshing.

Seeing Sirin’s revived spirits after gulping it down, Bella smiled.

“Others’ opinions don’t matter. Only Her Majesty’s satisfaction does.”

Vill-V conceded after one sip: “Ms. Bella’s ‘simple’ limeade achieves culinary transcendence. The emotion poured into it dwarfs my own craft—we’re on fundamentally different levels.”

Before drinking, Griseo observed: “The juice is cold… but its color burns warm.”

Skeptical, Enoxia tasted it—then instantly understood Vill-V’s humility. The initial tangy zest gave way to an aftertaste of fervent devotion, a molten undercurrent beneath the cool surface.

This was a dish with a soul, radiating unconditional surrender. Enoxia awarded it full marks without hesitation.

“My, Sirin~ Getting to eat such heartfelt meals daily makes me jealous! Lend Bella to me for a few days?” Elysia teased, winking.

“No!” Both shouted in unison.

“Kidding~ Your bond’s even deeper than I thought! Bella’s minimalist masterpiece earns top honors—truly deserving of first place. Good job~?”