The First Patriarch: Streaming My Cosmic Harem

Chapter 40: Chapter 40: Rune-Pad

They bypassed the formal dining hall entirely, opting instead to have the estate’s personal culinary staff send the ingredients directly up to Rosalind’s private sitting room.

Azriel had a massive craving for a chaotic cheat meal.

"Rose, tell them to send up something aggressively spicy, too," he said, rubbing his stomach.

"Just eating sweet stuff is going to make me sick. I need a real kick to balance it out."

"Spicy? Very well," Rosalind murmured.

She extended her elegant right hand.

In a split second, a soft ripple of spatial magic tore through the air, and a sleek, rectangular metallic device manifested directly in her palm.

It had a dark, polished glass screen that instantly lit up with vibrant, glowing runic icons the moment her fingers touched the surface.

She casually tapped a few strings of glowing symbols and swiped her thumb across the glass.

"I’ve ordered the head chef to prepare everything and have my personal assistant bring it directly to us," she said, glancing up.

But Azriel wasn’t even listening to her.

His gaze was entirely glued to the object resting in her hand, his modern Earthling brain short-circuiting hard.

’What the actual hell?’ he thought, his violet eyes widening in pure shock.

’Is that a freaking smartphone?!’

Rosalind noticed his intense fixation and let out a small, proud chuckle.

Assuming his wide-eyed stare was merely the awestruck reaction of a country bumpkin who had never seen high society tech, she turned the device toward him.

"This is a Rune-Pad," she explained, a smug, showing-off tone creeping into her voice.

"It’s an advanced magi-tech device manufactured by the Grand Alliance of Humans and Dwarves in the upper sectors. It utilizes micro-inscribed storage runes and localized Aether frequencies to do many incredible things."

She began scrolling through the interface, demonstrating its functions with the casual ease of a teenager showing off a new upgrade.

"Look. It can send instantaneous encrypted text transmissions across continents, store high-fidelity visual memory projections, map out regional terrain via imperial satellites, and even stream live regional news networks."

Azriel stared blankly as she essentially described an iPhone, but running on magical nuclear fusion.

’So this world isn’t just a generic medieval fantasy,’ he realized, a profound sense of awe washing over him.

’They’ve literally skipped the industrial revolution and used Aether to innovate advanced digital technology.’

"I actually intended to purchase an Rune-Pad for you yesterday," Rosalind added, her furry ears twitching slightly as she tucked the device back into her spatial storage.

"But I was entirely consumed by the estate’s border reports. I will have my assistant deliver a premium model for you by tomorrow morning."

Azriel nodded quickly, suppressing his internal excitement.

"That would be perfect, Rose. Thank you."

While he had been aggressively reading through historical texts in the estate library to understand the basic geography and lore of Tartarus, a book couldn’t compete with the raw power of the internet.

Having a magical smartphone meant he could easily look up any information he needed at any time.

A polite knock on the grand double doors interrupted his thoughts.

Two low-ranking cat-kin maids entered, bowing deeply before setting down a massive, sprawling feast on the low obsidian table.

The spread was magnificent.

On one side sat a towering platter of the Sweet-Berry Sugar Crisps, golden, twisted dough pastries glistening with wild rock-honey, bursting at the seams with thick, chilled whipped cream.

On the other side sat a large iron pot of Crimson Fire-Stuffed Raptor, a heavily spiced, deep-red meat dish simmering in a bubbling broth of crushed ghost peppers and aromatic herbs that immediately filled the room with a mouth-watering, sweat-inducing heat.

"Let’s eat," Azriel said, his inner beast-kin appetite roaring to life.

Because he was in a beastkin’s body and also had awakened a bloodline, his baseline metabolic rate was acting like a black hole.

Azriel fell upon the food like a ravenous monster, tearing through the spicy raptor meat and alternating it with the rich, sugary dough twists.

Seeing him eat with such unbridled, primitive relish, the last of Rosalind’s noble reservations completely evaporated.

She abandoned her elegant cutlery, reached out with her slender fingers, and grabbed a Sugar Crisp.

Her golden eyes lit up in pure, unadulterated bliss as the taste of her childhood exploded across her tongue.

For the next half-hour, the formidable Duchess effectively ceased to exist, replaced by a woman rediscovering the simple, unadulterated joy of being human.

A smudge of white powdered sugar rested precariously on the corner of her lip, and she matched Azriel’s ravenous pace, her golden eyes sparkling with a mischievous, youthful light as she devoured the treats.

When the final platter was scraped clean, leaving only lingering spice trails in the air and a heavy, satisfied silence, the room felt significantly warmer.

Azriel sank deep into the plush velvet cushions, his hand absently rubbing his stomach with a low, contented groan.

The sheer caloric overload had done its work, the lingering aches from their marathon session faded, replaced by a lazy, humming vitality.

Rosalind set aside her silk napkin, her white tail giving a slow, languid flick behind her, a sure sign of absolute feline comfort.

The spicy broth had left her cheeks flushed a delicious, rosy pink, and the playful glint in her golden eyes suggested she was far from done with him.

"Alright, my insatiable little monster," she purred, leaning her elbow on the armrest and propping her chin in her hand, her gaze lingering on his relaxed form.

"We’ve successfully skipped training, lost three hours to sleep, and devoured enough calories to sustain a small infantry unit. The sun is setting, and the estate is quiet. Now what?"

Azriel chuckled, feeling the comfortable weight of the meal. He met her gaze with an easy, boyish smile that belied his calculating mind.

"How about we take a walk?" he suggested.

"My stomach is feeling a bit heavy, and I’ve been dying to see more of this mansion. It’s absolutely massive, and frankly, I barely know my way around. Why don’t you give me a tour? Show me exactly where the Crimson Duchess lives when she isn’t busy trying to break me."