With Diana's "help" (through gritted teeth), Darc successfully restrained his urge toward gluttony.
As for the earlier [Envy +1]—
Darc firmly declared that he had no idea what envy even was.
He stared at his now-empty plate and forcibly suppressed the irritation bubbling in his chest. His gaze drifted slowly across the feast still laid out on the table:
Roast beef, roasted chicken, lamb chops, sausages, steaks, Yorkshire pudding, roasted butter potatoes, gravy, ketchup… beans.
Maintaining perfect noble composure, he quietly swallowed.
Darc scooped a small portion of beans from the large silver bowl into his plate.
"Let's start with beans. Gluttony isn't about eating. Eating in moderation shouldn't increase the Gluttony indicator."
As expected of food conjured by the sainted Headmistress Arthe—even the humble stewed beans had an exquisite flavor.
Darc picked out a single bean, pinned it in place with his fork, sliced it carefully with his knife, and ate it piece by piece.
Chewing slowly, he let the flavor bloom across his mouth.
It was, annoyingly, delicious.
His eyes narrowed in satisfaction as he moved to the next half-bean.
Across from him, another first-year from House Nobility—Rose Floty—was holding a silver spoon and had just scooped a large mouthful of beans straight into her mouth.
But when she noticed how refined and elegant Darc looked—even while eating beans—her cheeks warmed. She quietly withdrew the spoon halfway.
Imitating him, she picked up a knife and fork and awkwardly tried to stab a bean… only for it to slip away repeatedly.
This made her develop a subtle fondness for Darc, who handled bean-eating with such practiced grace.
I always heard the duke's son was an ill-mannered brat with no noble bearing. Who knew he was actually this refined?
Girls at this age were especially prone to constructing entire personalities from the smallest details.
Especially a noble girl freshly freed from the suffocating weight of etiquette lessons, now so intoxicated by newfound freedom that her brain was practically oxygen-deprived.
Otherwise, how could she possibly imagine Darc as some paragon of noble virtue?
…
Meanwhile, Darc, locked in mortal combat with beans, remained oblivious.
As his plate of beans neared empty, he began considering the next dish.
Perhaps Yorkshire pudding?
Though called a "pudding," it was closer to bread in texture. Golden and crisp on the outside, soft inside, baked with roast beef drippings and topped with rich gravy…
Just imagining it made his mouth water.
He was about to reach for one when Diana suddenly said, "Hey! Darc, you like beans? Then you can have mine too!"
Before he could react, she dumped an entire plateful of beans into his dish.
"And consider it thanks for the honey-glazed lamb leg!"
She added in a small voice, "Diana doesn't like beans…"
Darc stared at the bean mountain forming on his plate.
His eyebrow twitched.
[Wrath +1]
"…Damn it."
…
He wasn't even that angry.
Was it because the Demon God bloodline had entered awakening, making him more prone to corruption?
Darc silently chewed through the beans.
Inside, he was agitated and restless.
Outside, he remained calm and elegant.
When he finally finished the mountain of beans, all the food on the tables suddenly vanished at once.
Main course over.
Dessert time.
Ice cream, apple pies, syrup tarts, chocolate sponge cake, jam doughnuts, rum-soaked pudding, strawberry pie…
An overwhelmingly sweet aroma flooded the air.
Darc stared at the desserts in silence.
He wasn't full at all.
The hunger in his stomach, mixed with the seductive scent of sugar, was impossible to resist.
He reached toward his favorite—chocolate sponge cake.
[Gluttony +1]
"Just one point. I lowered one earlier."
He reached for a syrup tart.
[Gluttony +1]
"It's fine. Gluttony still has plenty of room."
"Starting tomorrow, I'll restrain myself and lower it back down."
[Gluttony +1]
After eating a slice of strawberry pie, Darc finally stopped.
He picked up a damp towel and carefully wiped the sugar from the corners of his mouth.
"Darc, you like desserts too?"
"Diana loves desserts!"
You love everything except beans.
Ignoring her muttering, Darc adjusted his posture slightly and glanced toward the House Knights table.
By now, Veit God was chatting happily with another new student. If Darc had to guess, that was probably the "Ron Weasley" role.
Poor guy. In Harry Potter, after a lifetime of hard work, Ron at least ended up with Hermione.
But in this galgame?
He was definitely getting no one.
A lifetime of solitude was likely his fate.
Darc sighed inwardly. At least he had a fiancée enrolling next year to look forward to.
So where was the girl in the "Hermione" role?
He looked around but didn't spot any girl particularly close to Veit, so he withdrew his gaze.
…
Unfortunately, even though Darc had looked away, Veit had already noticed him.
Darc's presence among his peers was simply too striking to ignore.
"Who's that guy with eyes growing on his forehead?" Veit whispered.
Beside him, Robert Broheim frowned. "Don't everyone's eyes grow above their nose?"
"I mean his forehead," Veit clarified, pointing.
Robert shrugged. "If you mean the blond one, that's Darc Dimon. Son of the kingdom's only female duke—Alvette St. Dimon."
Veit murmured, "Alvette Dimon… the Valkyrie who stood alongside my father as the Twin Swords of the Kingdom? Then her son must also be as noble and righteous as her. Maybe we could become friends?"
Robert snorted. "Veit, not everyone inherits their parents' virtues like you."
Veit paused.
"…I don't even know what my parents looked like."
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