Chapter 1371 (1/2)

Wearing an apron, Roy walked across the modest interior of the home he had made. The wooden walls were sturdy and a dark blue carpet covered the floor. An icebox sat against the wall, next to a bookshelf. In that perfectly normal home, Roy’s hands were wreathed in fire, weaving together a Skill as he proceeded toward the door and pushed it open.

His flaming palm left a hand-shaped charred portion on the door. As he stepped outside, he raised his head and his eyes flashed. For a few seconds, the human illusion he maintained faded and the necromantic devil he truly was shone through. He pointed and an explosion of flame manifested at the base of a pile of oak logs. Within a few seconds, the fire was happily cracking, turning everything to ash.

But this isn’t enough...

Roy stepped sharply forward, cutting across the intervening space. He arrived before another oak tree and his hands curled into claws. A shimmering, spectral ax manifested in each hand. He rapidly cut left and right with his hands that wielded his insidiously powerful image. The tree couldn’t respond at all to his rapid moves; it was in fact a completely normal tree. Within a second, it was cut down and split into more logs. It was irreparably broken.

Most of these logs were set to the side, but Roy threw some on top of his growing fire. It warmed his chilled heart to see his fire grow larger

Adjusting his clothes after his frantic motions, Roy walked calmly toward the black kettle sitting next to the wooden home he had built. With an almost reverent expression, he carefully brought the equipment out. His hands trembled as he assembled the spit and then hung the large black cauldron above the flame. Normal grey smoke wafted upward, forming a rapidly dissipating signal in the sky.

Roy’s face tightened as he looked at that column of smoke. “At this rate… my plan will be revealed early…” His face contorted in a devilish grin. “I suppose there is no choice but to move up the timeline.”

After speaking, Roy surged into motion. He forcefully blasted apart the wooden door of his home in his haste to go inside. Then his hands were once more blurred axes, cutting and hacking the ingredients he had already prepared and set on the table. By the end of it, the table had been reduced to a pile of useless timber that collapsed to the floor, but Roy ignored the casualty in his preparations; he swept everything off the table and spun away to return to the cauldron.

The order in which things should be prepared for this ritual was very exact, but Roy didn’t have time for the niceties of ceremony. In his mind, the black cauldron became an ominous maw that devoured the ingredients wholesale, leaving nothing but crumbs behind. The liquid within the cauldron grew increasingly turbid.

With a wide grin, Roy stoked the flames. When the heat reached a point that he liked, he produced a cold iron spoon and stirred the mixture. It was with great relish that Roy felt the hastily cut chunks knock against his tool. “Soon… soon…”

But even as he said that, Roy’s face twisted in horror. A blur shot across the horizon, rapidly approaching his position. Roy scrambled backward, but that blur arrived before he could escape its clutches.

BOOOOOOOOM!

The ground cracked and shook as a wave of dust blasted outward from the impact point. It was distant enough that the fire continued to burn, but the flames wavered and the liquid inside of the cauldron sloshed back and forth.

Neveah straightened and brushed herself off. Then she looked over at Roy and offered him a winning smile. “You finish dinner yet, hun?”

Roy stumbled backward, fear making him quake. Gritting his teeth, his pride forced Roy to stop and straightened his spine. Even if a vicious punishment was coming, Roy refused to retreat from it. “I… no, Neveah… I haven’t finished in time. There’s no excuse.”

Neveah rolled her eyes and walked forward to look down into the bubbling cauldron. “Are you telling yourself another one of your strange stories again? I hope you realize you will never make a genuine connection if you refuse to be honest with yourself and other people.”

Again, Roy could do naught but endure Neveah’s words. He didn’t dare contradict her, considering that she controlled his life and death. And the current state of his existence was tenuous-

“Oh! This is pretty good.” Neveah interrupted his thought process, having stuck one of her long fingers into the soup and tasting it. Her expression brightened further, and she waved her hand at Roy. “Well, whatever you are thinking, get some plates, will you? I can’t just eat it by the handful.”

Again, panic seized Roy. “No, Neveah, it’s not yet finished cooking! If you eat it early, some of the flavor-”

“Isn’t it fine?” Neveah said, quickly proving her earlier statement wrong by reaching down into the cauldron and removing a handful of soup that she slurped messily up into her mouth.

Roy could only fall to his knees, trembling. “The flavor…”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. And go get those plates.” Neveah chuckled, continuing to inhale the only partially cooked soup.

Sighing, Roy went into his home. He walked around the table that had been hacked to pieces. He brought out plates and spoons for them both and a serving ladle. Soon, Neveah was messily slurping at the edge of her plate before serving herself seconds. Roy ate his soup rather more sedately, flinching every time Neveah looked over at him.

By the end of the meal, Neveah was so annoyed at his reactions to her that she tossed her plate, still half full of soup, at Roy. It smashed against his head and shattered, sending him stumbling. He dropped his own plate, which also shattered.

Neveah shook her head. “I’m trying to help you, you know. It would be easier if you weren’t so filled with fear. Not toward me, obviously; you need to stop being so afraid of yourself.”