Kevin picked up a piece of dry-fried flatfish and laughed. "Why don't you just go into heat again?" he suggested. "That'll warm you up in no time."
Oswald's eyes narrowed. "That's not funny," he said. "I'm serious. I need to eat something substantial."
The emperor cleared his throat and raised his wine glass. "The mint mussels are smelly," he said, "but the sole will not be smelly?"
Kevin took a bite and savored the flavor. "I am willing to try it," he said.
With a flourish, he extended his long arm and intercepted the wine glass that Oswald had just picked up.
He took a leisurely sip of the golden mead, savoring the warm, honeyed flavors as they warmed his throat.
When he finished, he placed the empty glass back in Oswald's hand and raised an eyebrow. "You were hoping to sneak a drink before the prohibition period is over, weren't you?"
Oswald opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips.
His Majesty the Emperor eyed the young man before him with suspicion. He had been weak when he first woke up, but he had recovered remarkably quickly.
Surely, a truly weak person would not be able to fool around for two days and two nights without collapsing.
The Emperor was inclined to believe that the man was simply pretending to be weak.
He had a reputation for being a cunning and manipulative person, and the Emperor was not about to be fooled by his tricks.
The young man who had recently begun to eat meat was always mild-mannered, and the emperor felt that he could tolerate any of his problems.
Therefore, the emperor set aside his empty cup without a word and continued to silently devour the food that Kevin disliked.
Oswald, the emperor, nibbled on a mussel, his eyes darting to his companion's plate. Kevin, his new partner, had just forked a piece of black blood sausage, its sweet juice glistening in the candlelight.
"I thought you said you didn't like black blood sausage," Oswald said, raising an eyebrow.
Kevin looked at him in surprise. "Just because I didn't eat it last time doesn't mean I won't eat it this time," he said. "I need my protein."
Oswald sighed.
He could see it now. He had not found a lover. Instead, he had invited back an ancestor, the real ancestor.
But there was no way to be unhappy. For in the ancestor's presence, he felt a sense of peace and belonging that he had never known before.
Oswald twirled the silver fork in his hand, his eyes narrowing as he watched Kevin pick and choose sullenly at his food. "It's unreasonable to eat like you," he said. "If you were in an ordinary person's house, you would have been beaten from childhood to adulthood."
Kevin sneered. "That's like you to be beaten. I didn't have this trouble when I was a child, because I didn't have to eat at all."
Oswald's eyes widened. "What were you like when you were a child?" he asked, intrigued.
He had always wanted to know what kind of embryo it would take to grow into the bastard in front of him.
Kevin ate his meal with leisurely satisfaction, savoring each bite. After swallowing, he took a sip of his mead and spoke. "Black hair, two eyes, and one nose."
Oswald stared at him blankly. "What nonsense is that?"
Kevin glanced at him with a faint smile. "I will look like whatever you look like. Why do you ask? How much longer can I grow?"
Oswald was not actually interested in what Kevin looked like as a child. He could easily imagine that Kevin was a handsome boy, based on his current appearance.
What Oswald really wanted to know was what kind of life Kevin had as a child.
Was he mischievous and troublesome, or was he obedient and well-behaved?
What kind of friends did he have?
What kinds of embarrassing things did he do?
Oswald was curious to learn more about Kevin's childhood experiences, as he believed that these experiences would help him to better understand Kevin as a person.
Oswald's insatiable curiosity has led him to seek out knowledge of all things, past and present. He is particularly interested in the events that took place during his long life that he was not able to witness firsthand.
Kevin pondered the question for a moment, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I was a bit of a lawless child," he said at last. "There was nothing I wouldn't dare do."
He paused, as if remembering something amusing. "My older siblings, Thenis and Feisa, were always trying to keep me in line," he continued. "But Feisa had the power to make himself look like an old man, so he was usually the one who was left to watch over me. And even he couldn't keep me out of trouble."
Kevin's eyes twinkled as he recalled his childhood escapades. "I was always getting into fights," he said. "And I loved to play pranks on gods."
Kevin recounted several childhood anecdotes about cats hating dogs, some of which he had perpetrated on his own, and others in the company of several other young gods.
In his telling, he himself came across as a sort of demon king in the world, one who had been arrogant since childhood.
As Oswald listened, he began to suspect that something was amiss. Kevin was not one to be verbose when describing things; he was always concise, often skipping a sentence or two, and he never wasted words.
This was especially true when it came to matters related to himself. He would use only the most essential words, and there would be no evaluative or modifying language.
This time, however, he spoke with great vividness and emphasized certain details. His usual reminiscing style was absent, and it was almost as if he were making it up on the spot.
As Oswald's doubts began to mount, Kevin Fassbender's tale of how he had single-handedly scared a mountain of devil tigers to death at the age of four came to a close.
"I drew my longbow and fired three golden-feathered arrows into the stone forest in the valley," he declared.
"The devil tigers were so terrified that they immediately wet themselves."
Oswald was speechless.
It's not that he hasn't seen the impressive longbow of the God of Light before!
That bow is nearly as tall as two four-year-old children. With his relatively short arms, can he still draw the bow and successfully shoot three golden feather arrows? What a remarkable feat!
Commander Kevin Fassbender is once again indulging in his absurd train tales!
In reality, His Royal Highness Light God's childhood was far from the "rich and colorful" description he gave.
He was a very quiet child, rarely speaking. When asked anything by Thenis or Fisar, he would simply open his black eyes and ponder silently before nodding or shaking his head.
A few unfamiliar older gods would tease him, and he would only observe them curiously for a moment before moving on and standing behind Thenis.
This behavior may have given Thenis and others the false impression that he was shy or timid, but that was not the case.