856 Dinner with the Lich [Filler Chapter]

[Leonel, Isolde, Roz, Avaris, Lethargia]

When Niccoli was gone, Avaris turned his gaze sharply towards Leonel, his expression a mix of frustration and exasperation.

"Hoi. I thought I warned you not to open your mouth in his presence? Don't you realize that every time you speak, you put us in danger?" Avaris scolded.

Leonel's response was defensive, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I can't help it! My mouth automatically opens when I'm nervous and tense."

Avaris sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "How many times do I have to explain to you all that Niccoli is volatile? Just one word, one wrong word, and he might explode."

"Nicc—"

Before Leonel could finish his retort, Avaris cut him off with a sharp look. "No, Leonel. We've been over this. We can't afford to provoke him."

Isolde interjected. "That's precisely why we should eliminate him. Niccoli is a ticking time bomb. He has the temperament of a spoiled noble, the arrogance of a teenager, and the power to wreak havoc on a massive scale. We can't risk keeping him around."

Avaris opened his mouth to argue but found himself at a loss for words. Isolde's logic was sound, and deep down, he knew she was right. Niccoli was more trouble than he was worth.

"Then let's take a vote," Leonel suggested, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the group. "Who's in favor of just getting rid of him?"

Isolde raised her hand without hesitation, prompting Leonel to reluctantly follow suit. Roz hesitated for a moment before raising his hand as well.

09:24

Avaris felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realized he was outnumbered. He knew he couldn't argue against the majority decision.

"Everyone, don't be hasty," Avaris pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. "If we can get Niccoli on our side without resorting to violence, then that's the best course of action."

Leonel shook his head, his expression conflicted. "I don't think Niccoli is the type to be bossed around. He's not going to join us willingly."

Roz and Isolde nodded in agreement, their expressions mirroring Leonel's doubts.

Avaris sighed, feeling defeated. "Well . . . no demon likes to be ordered around, so . . ."

"Hoi! Lethargia! Wake up! I need you here! Tell us the right course of action!"

Just as Avaris was about to wake up Lethargia for her input, the butler interrupted their debate with an announcement.

"Excuse me, my lord and ladies. Dinner is ready."

Isolde commented on the suddenness of the announcement, while Leonel's face paled at the mention of food.

"I think I might be sick," he muttered under his breath, his face turning sour and green.

"Let's not keep the young master waiting. It wouldn't be polite," Avaris said, carrying Lethargia on his back once more. As they made their way to the dining hall, Isolde couldn't help but tease Avaris about his apparent lack of assertiveness.

"Who's the warlord here? Have you no pride as one of the most powerful demons in Hell? You're acting like you're scared of a kid."

Avaris bristled at the jab but remained composed. "I just don't want unnecessary conflict. I prefer to handle things diplomatically."

Isolde and the others rolled their eyes, unconvinced. "Whatever you say."

As they entered the dining area, Leonel's stomach churned with apprehension. He couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as he laid eyes on Niccoli, seated in the center with his family, surrounded by other grotesque figures that Leonel found difficult to even look at.

"Ah, you're right on time, everyone. Come and join me for dinner with my family. By the way, dad, mom, these are the adventurers I've been telling you about," Niccoli announced with a tone that bordered on mockery.

The father's voice was barely audible as he welcomed them, while the mother's tone seemed to emanate from the depths of the earth itself. The sister observed them with curious eyes, her lips perpetually downturned, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Meanwhile, the grandfather smiled widely, his demonic face only serving to heighten the sense of discomfort.

While Leonel and the others were repulsed by the scene before them, Avaris remained composed, accustomed to the sights of the Netherworld, and he smoothly introduced everyone once again.

"I think . . . I'm not in the mood for dinner . . ." Leonel choked out the words, his stomach roiling with disgust.

"Sit," Niccoli commanded, and everyone reluctantly took their seats. As conversation flowed around the table, Leonel and the others couldn't focus because of the food.

Leonel's stomach twisted when he saw that the dish served to him consisted of organs of some kind, with the cherry eyeball on top, winking at him. The final straw came when the lid was lifted off a large bowl of soup, revealing a floating head within.

"What's wrong? Don't you like the food? I have specially asked the chef to cook mortals as your food! Get it?!" Niccoli laughed, clearly enjoying the discomfort of Leonel and the others.

Isolde took a deep breath and whispered to the side, "So this was what he meant by mortal food. I've got to say, he has a twisted sense of humor."

"I . . . I think I'm going to be sick. Can I log out now?" Leonel's stomach churned with nausea, threatening to expel its contents at any moment.

Roz remained calm and unfazed, a stark contrast to the discomfort felt by the others.

It was clear that Niccoli's only intention in this encounter was to make them as uncomfortable as possible. He served them grotesque food and engaged his family in morbid conversation, ensuring that no one left the table without contributing to the macabre atmosphere.

For added effect, the food was suitably foul, fitting for a family of centuries-old undead.

"Is the food not to your liking?" the mother asked, her smile barely concealing her amusement.

"They're delicious," the sister chimed in. "Especially the eyeballs; their juices are superb."

"The brains are more delicious," added the father. "We can't have brain soup without a full head as an ingredient. It makes the brains fresh, tender, and juicy."

"Limbs . . . are more satisfying than anything. The flesh and bones makes a complete meal," finished the grandfather.

Leonel couldn't hold it any longer and promptly vomited at the side of the table.

BaAmM!