Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 186: The Phantom Predator Part 4

Narinder shifted in his seat, feeling a slight lump in his throat. He looked at Ramael with a mixture of intrigue and anxiety.

—So... after finishing off the bishops...—his voice faltered a little—you went to your Narinder, didn't you?

For some reason, the question troubled him. It was the logical step. Wasn't this how the story was meant to continue?

But Ramael gave a nervous laugh, looking away.

—Well... no... not really.

Narinder blinked, puzzled.

—¿Uh?

Ramael exhaled and leaned an elbow on the table, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"I was a little depressed about defeating Shamura."

The name alone sent a chill down Narinder's spine.

—But I realized that I shouldn't be afraid anymore.

His tone changed, as if reliving that moment brought him some peace.

—The bishops had perished, and He Who Waits remained imprisoned within the Veil. He no longer had anyone to fear.

Narinder watched him silently, without interrupting.

—So I just... ignored it.

Narinder raised an eyebrow.

—Did you ignore it?

-Yeah.

Ramael shrugged with a half smile.

—I spent about fifty years in a life of self-indulgence as the leader of my cult.

Narinder crossed his arms, judging him with his eyes.

—By then, everyone who knew about the One Who Waits and the bishops... perished naturally.

There was a hint of coldness in his voice, not because he didn't care, but because he had already accepted the truth of his actions.

—I didn't let them leave any information about me. I let time eat away at all my mistakes.

Narinder tilted his head, his expression tense.

—I didn't leave the service and... I didn't need to leave.

Ramael gave a small laugh.

—It was a very... fun time, I have to admit.

Narinder did not hide his disbelief.

—Fun?

—Yes, it was.

The ram gave a nostalgic smile.

—From time to time he sent cultists as missionaries to bring in potential new followers, because I avoided going out.

But his expression suddenly changed, his face turning serious.

—And then... a black cat arrived.

Narinder frowned.

—A black cat?

Ramael nodded slowly.

—He was a normal cultist, but when I saw him...

He rubbed his forehead, as if that memory still weighed on him.

—It was like a bucket of cold water.

Narinder remained silent, waiting for the continuation.

—I knew that even though I tried to ignore my problems, He Who Waits was still hanging over me...