Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 194: Unexpected Confessions

While Ramael went his own way, life in the cult passed with unusual tranquility. It was mealtime, and the atmosphere was filled with the murmur of cultists enjoying their feast. The air carried the aroma of freshly baked bread, spices, and perfectly cooked vegetables. The open-air dining room, illuminated by the soft sunlight, seemed like a peaceful haven, far from the struggles and challenges of the outside world.

Amidst this serene atmosphere, Lambert calmly bit into a crunchy radish from his plate. He chewed slowly, enjoying the slight sting of the vegetable, before answering softly,

"No."

As he spoke, his fingers absentmindedly stroked Narinder's chin, who was reclining with his head on his lap, the back of his neck resting comfortably on the lamb's thighs.

Narinder frowned in mock offense.

"What?" Would you deny a request from your god and beloved husband? I've literally already taken your life; what I ask is something insignificant.

Lambert continued eating unfazed. He brought a piece of roasted pumpkin to his mouth and savored it with pleasure before answering:

"And that life ended when I sacrificed myself to free you. This life I have now is for relaxation."

As he spoke, he continued to stroke Narinder's head slowly, as if calming a restless feline.

Narinder snorted dramatically.

"But what's so strange about it? You used to do these things for these inept cultists."

Lambert paused his hand for a moment and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't call them that. They're your cultists. And that's precisely why I don't want to do it. I worked hard for two hundred years, and now I want to spend several centuries resting."

Calmly, he took a piece of cauliflower and chewed it with the same patience with which he responded to Narinder's whims.

Narinder tilted his head playfully.

"Don't you feel like going for a walk?"

Lambert gave him a sideways glance and took a chocolate chip cookie with a pentagram in the center.

"You don't want a walk. You want me to be a missionary, to look for materials, and with that excuse, you can return to Darkwood to find Ramael."

Narinder's eyes widened in mock surprise.

"What? Do you think I'd just use you as an excuse?"

Lambert bit into a piece of the cookie and politely offered half to Narinder.

"Narinder, you're an ancient being. You could act like an adult and go find Ramael yourself, if you miss him so much."

Narinder took the biscuit and nibbled at it with an air of resignation, grumbling softly because Lambert wasn't cooperating with his plan.

Lambert, after finishing his half of the biscuit, calmly wiped the crumbs off and gently caressed his husband's face.

"I am no longer the Vessel of Death. I returned the crown to you. I no longer have any responsibilities other than to enjoy my eternity in peace here, with you."

Narinder watched Lambert silently, his red eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions.

"Don't you miss the thrill of fights? The adventure of exploring places filled with heretics and monsters?"

Lambert took a moment to think about it, slowly chewing his last bit of food.

"Perhaps, one day, I'll grow bored of all this tranquility," he finally admitted. "But that will only be seen in a few centuries. For now, the most I want to do is deal with a hangover from time to time."