Thud!
A gleaming cleaver slammed onto the cutting board, followed by the dull crack of flesh and bone parting. Several plump birds, resembling pigeons and pheasants, had their heads and claws hacked off.
The harpy summoned to help in the kitchen stared blankly at the blood-soaked board, where the featherless, gutted carcasses lay in disarray.
The little one named Harpy swallowed hard, her tuft of feathers trembling as she cast furtive glances toward Samael, the head chef. Each glance carried hesitation, as if she wanted to speak but dared not.
Hmph! Scared now, are you? You stupid, chatterbox bird!
With every swing of the cleaver, Samael's eyes gleamed coldly, his motions carrying the clear intent of making an example. The blade rose and fell, dismembering the fat birds with ruthless precision.
Once satisfied, the ancient serpent flicked his wrist, sweeping the gruesome chunks into the basin Harpy clutched tightly.
"We're roasting bird tonight. Make sure you eat plenty."
Samael patted her shoulder with a seemingly kind smile.
"Really?! That's wonderful!"
Harpy straightened her back, her eyes shining oddly.
Wait—something's off! That reaction can't be right. She's not scared… she's forcing it!
Samael's smile stiffened. Shaking his head, he asked in a low, sinister drawl.
"By the way, you were watching me prepare these birds. Was there something you wanted to say?"
"Mm-hmm!"
Harpy nodded hard. Under Samael's unnerving stare, her throat twitched. Lifting her pale blue wings, she wiped the glittering drool from her lips.
"Could you not throw away the innards? They taste amazing roasted!"
Her nostrils flared, her eyes full of longing. The tuft of feathers atop her head quivered with excitement.
So this signal wasn't fear—it was hunger?
You weren't scared… you were drooling?!
Then what was the point of me scrambling through forests, wasting days without even seeing Tina, just to catch these damn things—only for you to get the spoils?!
Samael's face went rigid. The cleaver in his hand trembled like he'd developed a sudden palsy.
Calm down. Don't stoop to a fool's level.
He drew in a deep breath, suppressing the urge to butcher the idiot bird on the spot. Grinding the words out through clenched teeth, he spoke coldly.
"Skewer them. You lot can build the fire and roast them yourselves."
Harpy scratched her head, puzzled.
"Oh… so when should we call you to eat?"
"No need. I'm full."
"But you haven't eaten yet—"
"I'm full of anger!"
Realizing his little scare tactic had been wasted, Samael rolled his eyes and stormed off, face dark.
By the doorway, Harpy bit her lip, her eyes flickering with hesitation. At last, she spread her wings and timidly called out.
"Samael, you really won't eat?"
At least you had the sense to ask again…
The ancient serpent paused, his frustration easing a fraction. Resting his hand on the stone wall, he turned back.
"I…"
His response came out as a low, nasal hum as he prepared to descend the steps. After all, he'd spent days preparing this feast of plump birds. To miss out over a fit of temper would feel like an even bigger loss.
"If you're not eating, then… could I have your share too?"
Not having to fight with Hydra, Cerberus, or the other big ones tonight—and getting two portions all to herself—Harpy's eyes sparkled with bliss.
Thud!
A dull crack echoed from the cave entrance. Startled, Harpy saw the stone crumble to dust in Samael's palm. A chill shot down her spine, her neck shrinking instinctively.
"Don't… don't be angry. I won't eat your share…"
Samael stepped closer, laying a hand gently on her shoulder. His grin was dazzling, his tone soft.
"Silly child. How could I ever be angry?"
His expression sincere, the ancient serpent lifted the cleaver from the board and sharpened it against a smooth stone slab.
With his back to her, he raised the blade to eye level, running his fingers along its edge. Then, moving faster than the eye could follow, he plucked a feather from her wing.
He brushed it against the blade. It split cleanly in two. Nodding in satisfaction, Samael's smile deepened.
"I just realized… for all the birds I caught, I didn't really consider your numbers or appetites. It looks like it won't be enough. I feel guilty about that. I should reflect on it."
The petty black demon… wasn't angry this time? That's… good.
Harpy patted her chest in relief.
Yes, yes! Let's hurry and prepare dinner. The sooner we roast the birds, the better.
Clenching her tiny fists, she steeled herself with excitement and glanced around for more ingredients. But the basin was empty.
She scratched her head in confusion.
"Samael, the ingredients are gone. Why are you still sharpening your knife?"
"There are. And they're plump. If we slaughter this one, the rest of the children should have enough to eat."
The ancient serpent smiled mysteriously, his left hand pressing lightly on Harpy's shoulder.
Another one? Here?
Following his gaze, she instinctively looked down. Her eyes fell on her own wings. Her pupils shrank, her throat tightening painfully.
"You don't mean…"
Realizing the shift, Harpy's feathers stood on end. She twisted to flee, but the hand on her shoulder clamped down like iron.
"Helping in the kitchen counts no matter how. Start what you finish."
"You were so happy to agree before. Just make a little more sacrifice."
Samael's voice was soft, his grin radiant, but the cleaver in his hand rose slowly.
"Ahh! Help! I'm a dead bird!"
"Don't kill me! My meat's sour—it won't taste good!"
Moments later, frantic wingbeats filled the kitchen. Harpy's wails rang out as she struggled with all her might, feathers scattering.
At last, the grip on her shoulder loosened. Seizing the chance, the pale-faced harpy bolted, wings flapping frantically as she shot out of the kitchen and dived into the thickets outside the Arima Caverns.
Outside, Mother of Serpents and Tina lounged lazily in the sun, utterly unfazed by her frantic cries.
Chiron, teaching Typhon's offspring nearby, watched her streak through the sky like her tail was on fire. His lips twitched as he glanced helplessly toward the kitchen.
"What now?"
Samael emerged, calmly wiping his knife with a faint smile.
"Oh, just one less portion of roast bird for tonight."
...
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