Ch. 125 – If I Might…

The ifrit woman shifted in her chair as she got ready to tell the rest of her tale, her wicked smile forming larger, sharper canines by the second.

"After Johnny finished planting his apple orchards across the continents, the magic circle stood firm," she said. "The blight did come, just like he had warned everyone about... luckily, he was the one that took action into his own hands," she added, her glowing eyes locking onto Rhys.

Rhys felt Vespera’s tail gripping his thigh possessively beneath the tablecloth. You’re the one that kept this mess going! he thought, shooting a quick glance in Vespera's direction. She looked as cool as a cucumber, listening to Shula with absolute intent.

"Ooonly THEN... did Johnny Appleseer get the recognition that he truly deserved!" Shula continued with wild zeal. "Everyone across the world had to humble themselves, and actually thank him for... planting his SEED.~"

She closed her eyes in pure, self-indulgent splendor. Dark wisps of raw, unbridled magic were slowly forming intricate tattoos lining her mouth and chin as she shifted.

Most of the men sitting around the table were dead silent, far more stunned by Shula’s alarming physical transformation than the mundane fairytale she was telling. Darius said nothing to stop his genie wife now; instead, he leaned back in his chair and reached both hands deep into his pockets as if searching frantically for something.

Hopefully he brought the right thing to calm her down, Omen said thoughtfully, observing the scene. If she doesn’t get back to her calm self quickly, it’s going to end very badly for this party.

Can you just tell me already?! Rhys mentally screamed at the shadow. Why the hell is she turning into a sour little grape right now?!

You got other things to worry about, Omen replied, pointing a ghostly finger at Serephina.

The shot Shula had fired was crystal clear, and the sonic boom hit seconds later. Lira had been struck directly, her emotional defenses completely broken. The story was obviously a thinly veiled message about Rhys, casting her as the "ignorant people" who refused to listen.

"AHEM... if I may..." Galen started up again, the gray-haired man desperately trying to recover after being interrupted earlier.

No, you still may not, Rhys thought smugly. He still didn't care for the man's opinion, especially now that he clearly remembered Galen was married to that absolute villainess, Ariadne. I really don’t understand how you could not see how vile she truly is, Rhys thought to himself, his lingering respect for the man dropping even lower.

"I think Rhys here is a great example of exactly that, Shula!" Serephina declared, her hand gripping Rhys's arm and cutting Galen off yet again. "I think he should be free to plant his 'seed' where it is necessary... NEEDED, even, for everyone’s happiness!"

She wasn't paying attention. Lira opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out as she struggled to keep her cosmic power firmly in check.

"Ohhh... aren’t you just the cutest!" Vespera interjected teasingly, her voice dripping with mock affection. "And why, exactly, do you think YOU deserve this 'apple seed' so much?" she asked accusingly.

Serephina looked taken aback, her brows scowling deeply. "And who, exactly, are YOU again?"

Coincidentally, the two women hadn't directly collided until this very moment. Vespera sped up the rhythm of her tail glides against Rhys’s inner thigh, standing her ground.

"Right... you seem to be the only one at this table who hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting me," Vespera said with a sharp, devilish smile. "My name is Vespera Vane, and I’m the landlord of many of the homes these lovely people live in. I also happen to be Rhys’s loyal partner for his catering business," she added, making it sound a little too loving.

Serephina looked completely lost, her mouth left hanging slightly ajar. Rhys genuinely didn't know whether he should thank Vespera or curse her. The verbal attack went off like a silent nuclear strike, but it caught his wife in the fallout once again. Lira stared at Rhys in a daze, looking entirely unsure of what was coming next.

I gotta stop this right now, Rhys thought, sick with worry for her.

"I was GOING to say—" Galen tried one more time, his gray brows furrowing in mounting anger.

"Well! It was a lovely time eating soup with you all," Rhys announced loudly, his own bowl still nearly full. "I think it’s time for me to head back to the kitchen and start cooking the rest of the dinner... I bet you all wouldn’t mind if I snatch my wife away as I go, do ya?"

He didn't state it as a question. Rhys stood up firmly and grabbed Lira’s hand to pull her out of the crossfire. Vespera’s expression went completely blank as she subtly slid her tail away from his leg.

"NO!!!" a loud, crackly voice suddenly bellowed.

Nearly the entire table flinched at the sound, every head snapping to face Galen. The gray-haired man had reached his absolute limit, completely fed up with being repeatedly ignored and talked over.

"I have been trying to say something, and I keep getting trampled over with zero respect!" Galen shouted in total exasperation, throwing his hands into the air. "How remarkably rude! I want to hear from YOU, Rhys, and you will sit your ass back down and hear me out, too!"

He jabbed a finger directly at Rhys to punctuate his demand, leaving the rest of the table staring between the two of them in stunned silence.

Rhys’s initial temper instantly drained away, replaced by pure, unadulterated confusion as his shoulders slouched.

Can we hold on for just a second?! Rhys thought, utterly baffled. He looked straight at Omen, who was still sitting perched in the center of the table.

Come on, really... who the hell decided to invite... THIS guy?!