Reborn As The Duke’s Daughter: Noodle Apocalypse In Another World

The aftermath of the ramyeon rebellion left Evernight Manor smelling like a street vendor's cart—spicy, savory, and faintly cursed.

Servants scrubbed broth stains from curtains, muttering about "noodle pensions," while Cedric paced the courtyard, glaring at the moat as if daring it to bubble again.

"Next time," he vowed, polishing his sword with a dishcloth, "I'll slice it thinner."

Evangeline, propped in a baby sling strapped to Lucien's chest (his latest "efficiency innovation"), babbled orders only Lord Whiskerton understood.

The cat lays atop a sun-warmed stone, dictating demands to a scribe.

"A heated bed. Fresh tuna twice daily. And a crown that doesn't clash with my fur," he sniffed. "The last one was brass. Brass."

Beneath the abandoned Temple of Noodles, the hooded figure stirred a cauldron of glowing broth, their hands trembling with anticipation. The air reeked of fermented kimchi and ambition.

"Almost… there," they whispered, tossing in a handful of stolen prophecy-marked noodles.

The broth erupted, and a new ramyeon elemental clawed its way out, larger and angrier than before.

Its eyes blazed with chili-flake fury, and its noodly limbs crackled with electricity.

"DESTROY… EVERNIGHTS…" it gurgled.

The figure lowered their hood, revealing a face Evangeline would have recognized instantly—if she hadn't been busy drooling on Lucien's ledger.

Chef Marcel.

"Yes," he crooned, stroking the elemental's steaming flank. "Perfect."

The elemental struck at dusk, tearing through the castle gates with a noodle-whip crack.

Cedric met it in the courtyard, sword gleaming, his face a mask of grim determination.

"Round two," he growled.

The battle was… messy. Cedric's blade sliced through noodles, but they regrew faster, tangling around his ankles. The elemental hurled a meatball the size of a carriage wheel, crushing a decorative fountain.

"Foul play!" Cedric yelled, dodging. "No projectile meat!"

Evangeline, watching from Lucien's arms, activated her pacifier. EX' ACT's holograms flickered to life, dancing Monster this time—darker, edgier, and somehow judgmental.

The elemental paused, chili-eyes narrowing.

"NOT… FALLING FOR THAT AGAIN…"

It slapped a noodle-tendril through Woohyun hologram, scattering pixels like confetti.

"Uh-oh," Lucien muttered.

Lord Whiskerton was mid-pawicure (demanded as part of his "reparations") when the elemental's roar rattled the castle.

"Unacceptable," he hissed, flinging cucumber slices off his eyes. "My me-time is sacred."

He stormed into the courtyard, tiny robe flapping, and leapt onto the elemental's head with a battle cry only cats (and possibly demons) could hear.

"You," he snarled, claws digging into its broth-brain, "are ruining my glow."

The elemental howled, thrashing, but Whiskerton held firm—until a stray meatball knocked him into a rosebush. Again.

"Coincidence," he lied, shaking petals from his fur.

Evangeline's prophecy mark burned, flooding her mind with visions.

Marcel in the crypt, whispering to the elemental; a ledger page detailing stolen ingredients; Lucien's notes on "soy sauce vulnerabilities" in Marcel's handwriting.

"Mmrph!" she screamed around her pacifier.

Lucien froze. "Wait… Marcel?"

They found the chef in the kitchens, feeding his creation chunks of enchanted beef.

"Why?" Lucien demanded, betrayal sharp in his voice.

Marcel smiled, stirring the broth.

"The Evernights banned ramyeon. Banned it. But I'll make them crave it. I'll make the world crave it!"

The elemental loomed behind him, drooling soy sauce.

"JOIN US… OR PERISH…"

Evangeline's mark flared. This time, the holograms weren't EX' ACT—they were her.

A dozen tiny Evangelines, glowing and furious, projecting her thoughts in booming baby-speak.

"BAD CHEF! NO COOKIE!"

The elemental recoiled, noodles wilting. Marcel dropped his ladle, tears streaming.

"You… hate my ramyeon?"

"LOVE RAMYEON!" the holograms corrected, softening. "HATE LIARS!"

Marcel crumpled. "I just… wanted it to be perfect."

The elemental dissolved into a puddle of remorseful broth.

The duke banished Marcel to the kitchens ("Supervised ramyeon only!"), Cedric adopted the meatball as a pet ("I'll name him Sir Loin"), and Whiskerton demanded a lifetime supply of tuna as "emotional damages."

But as Evangeline drifted to sleep, her mark whispered one last vision, the crypt's cauldron, still bubbling.

A lone noodle wriggled free, slithering into the shadows.