Chapter 21: Sips of Tea

Lilith sat perched on a twisted obsidian railing overlooking a courtyard filled with strange, glowing fungi. The air hung thick and sulfurous, but she held a delicate porcelain cup filled with steaming, dark liquid that smelled faintly of burnt spice. Her inky black slime shifted lazily, covering just enough, as her glowing purple eyes watched Karnazul stomp onto the balcony. His new slime arm gleamed darkly.

"Well, well," Lilith chirped, taking a slow sip. "Look who crawled out of the divine bedchamber. Had a fun evening, Ash Lord? You can thank me for those extra inches later. Slimes are truly magical, you know." She winked.

Karnazul's ash-grey skin darkened slightly. He stopped a few feet away, crossing his arms. The slime hand clenched smoothly. "Thanks for nothing," he grunted, looking away. "Didn't need it anyways. Mine was big enough as it was." He shifted uncomfortably, then seemed to force himself to look back at her. "But... I came to say... thanks. For patching me up."

Lilith lowered her cup, her playful smile vanishing. Her purple eyes turned sharp and cold. "Don't flatter yourself, Rust Bucket. It wasn't kindness. It wasn't mercy. My Storm requested you be fixed. I honored her wish. That's the only reason you're breathing." Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact.

Karnazul stiffened. "She's not weak, Slimzy. She's getting stronger. Fast."

Lilith snorted, a surprisingly harsh sound. "Stronger than a pile of dead imps? Sure. Stronger than her? The Goddess who cracked continents? The Storm who made dragons hide? Don't be stupid, Karnazul." She leaned forward, her gaze boring into him. "You know it. I know you know it. That's why it burns you. She's a spark right now, not the wildfire. We both saw the Dragon Knight walk away. If he wanted her dead in that arena, she'd be ash. You know that better than anyone."

Rage, hot and blinding, surged through Karnazul. The memory of Theodric's contempt, the ease of his victory, the Goddess's vulnerability – it all crashed into Lilith's cruel truth. With a snarl that ripped from his chest, his good hand flashed. Steel rasped as he drew his heavy demon blade, leveling the wicked point directly at Lilith's face across the small table.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, SLIMY!" he roared, his crimson eyes blazing. The blade trembled slightly with his fury.

Lilith didn't flinch. She didn't even move from her perch. Slowly, deliberately, she reached out with one fair-skinned finger. Not to grab the blade, but to gently, insultingly, push the very tip aside, away from her face. Her touch was cool against the hot metal.

"Put that toy away, Karnazul," she said, her voice dangerously quiet, colder than the void. Her glowing purple eyes locked onto his, holding no fear, only icy warning. "You draw steel on me again, Ash Lord, and it will be the last thing you ever do."

The promise hung in the sulfurous air, heavy and real. Karnazul saw the deadly certainty in her eyes, the power coiled beneath the slime and sharp words. His fury warred with a sudden, chilling prudence. He held her gaze for a long, tense moment, his chest heaving. Finally, with a growl that sounded more like defeat, he slammed the blade back into its sheath. He turned away, unable to look at her.

Lilith watched him, the coldness in her eyes shifting back to her usual sharp watchfulness. She picked up her tea cup again, taking another slow sip. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable. When she spoke again, her voice was low, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"One more thing, Karnazul," she said, her purple eyes fixed on the glowing fungi below. "Tell me... does she know? About Him?"

Karnazul froze. His back was to her, but his shoulders went rigid as stone. He didn't turn around. He didn't speak. The only sound was the distant rumble of the demon continent and Lilith's soft sip of tea. The question hung there, heavy with unspoken meaning, more terrifying than any drawn blade. Who was Him? And why did the mere mention make the mighty Ash Lord turn to stone?

The sulfurous air on the obsidian porch hung thick with Lilith's last question and Karnazul's frozen silence. Finally, the Ash Lord spoke, his voice rough gravel scraping against the quiet.

"She doesn't need to know yet." He still didn't turn, his broad back tense. "She wasn't around. She didn't see... the great betrayal. Her sudden departure... Hibernation, or whatever it was."

A rare flicker of agreement crossed Lilith's sharp features. "You're right. For once, Ash Head." She took a slow sip of her dark tea, her glowing purple eyes watching him closely. "So," she asked, her tone deceptively light, "how do you feel?"

Karnazul finally turned, his crimson eyes narrowed. "About what?"

"About this place," Lilith gestured vaguely towards the towering, scarred walls of the Citadel rising around them. "The very same pile of rocks that saved your life."

A harsh, humorless bark of laughter escaped Karnazul. "That's where you're wrong, Mrs. Know-It-All." He pushed himself off the railing he'd been leaning against, his slime hand flexing.

Lilith's eyebrows arched. "What do you mean? Don't tell me the mighty Karnazul believes in fairy tales now."

"The tale told isn't false," Karnazul said, his voice dropping low as he walked towards the edge of the porch, gazing down into the ruined courtyard – the very spot where his legendary duel with Theodric had ended. "The citadel crumbled. The pieces fell on me." He paused, the memory raw. "But that's not what saved me."

He turned back to face her, his crimson eyes burning with a deep, old shame. "It was at this spot I lost all my pride. And till now, I haven't recovered a single scrap of it."

Lilith set her teacup down with a soft clink. Her playful demeanor vanished, replaced by sharp focus. "He spared your life, didn't he?"

"Yes," Karnazul admitted, the word tasting like ash. "He did. I know warriors, Slimzy. We might not be of the same race, but we share the fire. That burning need to protect who we've sworn our steel to." He looked down at his own blade hilt. "I know, deep in my bones, that if he'd wanted me dead in that rubble, I'd be dust. But he left me. Alive. Trapped under the ruins of everything I'd ever built, everything I was." His voice hardened, laced with bitter agony. "He knew. He knew that for a warrior like me, being spared by your enemy... left to rot in the broken shell of your own glory... is worse than death. It's the ultimate punishment. Slow. Humiliating."

He took a step towards Lilith, his presence radiating a restless, dangerous energy. "And after seeing him again in the Void Arena? After feeling that same impossible power crush me like an insect? That old shame is gone. Replaced." His crimson eyes blazed. "Now I have this... itch. Deep under my skin. A hunger. I need to grow strong. Stronger than ever before. But..." He clenched his fists, both flesh and slime. "...my ambition isn't just to shield my Liege anymore. It's twisted. I crave strength for me. To stand as Theodric's rival. I want to fight him. Again and again. I want to make him bleed. I want to make him know my name isn't just ash beneath his boot!"

The raw, violent longing in his voice filled the porch. Lilith watched him, her face unreadable for a long moment. Then, she rose smoothly from her perch. She didn't smirk. She didn't roll her eyes. She simply looked at him, her glowing purple eyes holding a terrible certainty.

"Then you will die," she stated, her voice flat and cold as the obsidian beneath their feet. "Not as a shield for your Goddess. Not as a Lord of Blades. But as a fool chasing a ghost with a sword made of pride and pain."

Her words landed like a physical blow, stark and final in the heavy air of the Screaming Citadel. The itch for vengeance, the burning rivalry Karnazul had just confessed, seemed to freeze under the icy truth of Lilith's prediction. The only sound was the distant, mournful wail of wind through the citadel's broken spires.