Chapter 23

Seeing him like this, it’s a lie to say I’m not scared. But leaving him alone at this moment, would it be okay?

Although the “Seven Deadly Sins” won’t cause physical harm, the mental torment is undoubtedly no less than physical injury. Otherwise, why would tribes use this to punish traitors?

I hesitated to speak. He looked at me thoughtfully for a while, then suddenly said, “Rosa, do you know what I like most about you?”

Hearing this, my mind went blank, and my expression must have frozen: “What, what?”

Lambert didn’t speak, his thumb and forefinger gently stroking my chin. This was not a lover’s caress but more like touching an object he fully possessed as if I were not a person but a live animal about to be served on the table. He really wanted to eat me.

Cold sweat seeped from my palms. I was about to grab his hand to calm him down, but he suddenly pushed me away, held his forehead, took two deep breaths, and then walked upstairs without looking back. Until his figure disappeared, he didn’t tell me what he liked most about me.

I wanted to chase after him, but thinking of his out-of-control eyes and gestures just now, I hesitated. It’s better to wait until “Gluttony” passes before contacting him again. I like him, but I don’t want to become his meal.

Around noon, Lambert finally came downstairs. He had changed into a flannel robe, with only half of the buttons done up. His black hair was wet, and a few strands at the front were dripping water. He walked to the main seat and pulled out a chair to sit down. From a distance, his outfit didn’t seem problematic, but upon closer inspection, I realized this robe was completely different from his usual style. Looking down his chest, I could almost see his lean and muscular waist and abdomen, covered with hard black scales that shone with a dark luster.

I didn’t dare look any further and awkwardly turned my head away. At this moment, Lambert’s voice suddenly rang out, cold and indifferent, “Go get Rosa a cloak.”

The feather duster took the order and left. I looked at Lambert in confusion. The fireplace in the castle had been constantly stoked, making the room not cold but rather stuffy, so there was no need for extra clothing.

As if sensing my puzzled gaze, he said without looking up, “I remember telling you that the ‘Seven Deadly Sins’ include lust.”

“…Mm.”

He spread a napkin on his lap with one hand and said nonchalantly, “Even without looking at you, I can feel the heat radiating from every inch of your skin. If you don’t want anything bad to happen, it’s best to cover your beautiful features and milk-like skin.” Although it was an exaggerated compliment, his tone was extremely casual, as if discussing the weather, “It won’t lessen my torment, but it will make you feel a bit safer when I look at and imagine you.”

How can he say such lustful words with such a serious and calm expression?

I felt as stiff as a wooden plank and let out a low “mm.” Just then, Feather Duster, wearing a cape, hopped over to my side. I quickly took the cloak and draped it over myself, burying my head in my meal like an ostrich. But even with the thick, dark cloak on, I could still feel his gaze as if it were a tangible thing.  

He kept staring at me. For the first time, I realized that a gaze could be so penetrating. Even without physical contact or eye contact, just being looked at by him made me feel the entanglement of being both robbed and possessed.  

After lunch, I fled from the long table.  

Lambert leisurely wiped his lips with a napkin and returned to the room on the second floor. The urgent, predatory gaze finally disappeared, and I sighed in relief.  

But soon, I realized this was just the beginning. In the afternoon, the sound of heavy objects crashing down could be heard from upstairs from time to time. Even someone as skilled at controlling their emotions as Lambert found it hard to resist the effects of the poison, smashing things in a fit of rage. This showed that the damage this poison inflicted on the mind was far from what I had imagined.

I sat on the sofa for a while, unable to listen any longer. I decided to go upstairs to see what was happening, but I feared disturbing Lambert. After thinking for a moment, I found the grandfather clock. It seemed to have read many books and was a knowledgeable scholar. Asking it about things I didn’t understand should be the right move.

“Witchcraft? The royal family burned all books on witchcraft, but–” the clock stroked its needle-like mustache with its slender arm, “His Highness’s library holds nearly a hundred thousand books. Some of them have never been opened since they were placed on the shelves. You can go and take a look; you might find some witchcraft books that haven’t been burned.”

I only have a concept of numbers below one hundred. Anything above that is just a blur in my mind. Following the clock, we passed through a colorful aerial garden, climbed moss-covered dilapidated colonnades, and entered the western tower. The dome here was dizzyingly high, and although the floor was covered with deep red carpet, it had long been pierced by lush thorns and roses. Dead leaves swirled and fell, crunching underfoot.

The clock forcefully pushed open two large doors, indicating that I should pick up the nearby candlestick. Dust rushed towards me, and the ancient tower sighed heavily. I tentatively stepped inside, using the candlestick to illuminate the surroundings, but saw nothing. The interior was too vast for a single candlestick to be of any use. I fumbled around and found other candlesticks, lighting them one by one.

Half an hour passed, and the library was finally lit by candlelight. The sight was so stunning that I didn’t know how to describe it. The bookshelves seemed to be embedded in the walls, or perhaps the stone walls themselves were the bookshelves, extending all the way to the top of the tower. The highest shelves could only be seen by looking up. The books were neatly stacked on the shelves, like cow hair, and at a glance, I could only see the spines of the books, resembling stone bricks. Seeing this, I finally had a concept of “one hundred thousand,” but…

“With so many books, how long will it take me to go through them?” I asked the clock in shock.

“Of course, you won’t have to look through them one by one.” The clock jumped onto the dark brown desk in the center of the study and pointed to a hardcover book almost as long as my arm. “This is the catalog of the library’s collection. You just need to find the titles related to witchcraft.”

I nodded blankly, walked over, and flipped through two pages. Suddenly, I thought of another question: “Even if I find the titles, how will I get them down?”

The clock pointed to a hidden door several hundred meters away: “Use the stairs.”

“…”

I never thought reading and finding books could be a physical task. It took me two hours to finally find the titles related to witchcraft in the catalog and another hour to take them down from the shelves. It was already eight o’clock in the evening, but neither the clock nor I wanted to return to the castle hall. It didn’t want to face the beast Lambert, and I wanted to thoroughly understand what the “Seven Deadly Sins” were all about. Lambert had spoken too lightly about it; the real “Seven Deadly Sins” were definitely not as he described.

I don’t know how much time passed, but my eyes were sore from reading when I finally found records related to the “Seven Deadly Sins.” As expected, Lambert hadn’t described even a tenth of its horrors. The “Seven Deadly Sins” were first invented by a witch doctor. Betrayed by a patient he had cured, he was imprisoned and began to hate all non-magical commoners. In prison, he invented the “Seven Deadly Sins” and, after his release, took revenge on all those he had once cured. After the witch doctor’s death, some tribes that revered witchcraft obtained the formula for the “Seven Deadly Sins” to punish those who betrayed the tribe.

Below is a detailed description of those affected by the curse, using an example of a witch executed by the Metz tribe by the Moselle River:

After being cursed, the witch became extremely self-centered, disregarding all taboos and rules, using any means to achieve her goals; her desires were insatiable, and she tried to possess everything she could; she envied anyone whose features were superior to her own…

I shifted my gaze to “Wrath.” Remember, when the cursed individual is in a state of extreme anger, if you don’t want them to lose control, it’s best to confine them in a cage or bear the consequences.

Here are some examples, some of which are simply shocking. For instance, in the southeast of a certain region, a sorcerer, in a state of extreme anger, slaughtered an entire village, sparing even the domesticated animals. The editor repeatedly warned that if severe consequences were to be avoided, the activities of sorcerers must be controlled.

A chill ran down my spine. It seemed that before I left, Lambert had already shown signs of anger. I wonder how he is now.

I closed the book, hesitating whether to check on him. Just then, there was a sudden knock on the door. My breath caught, my voice dry as sandpaper: “Who?”

“It’s me,” came Lambert’s voice.

Although I liked him very much, it was undeniable that he was extremely dangerous now, very dangerous. I suppressed the urge to turn and run. Taking a deep breath, I walked over and opened the library door.

Lambert was standing outside, wearing a white shirt and black pants, looking down at me with a calm yet inexplicably aggressive gaze. No, it was already night, and he hadn’t transformed into a beast. Why?

When he spoke just now, his tone was calm and steady, nothing like the terrifying descriptions in the book. Was the drug’s effect wearing off ,or was it ,like he once said, that this level of witchcraft had no effect on him?

He kept staring at my face, as if haressing my skin. His intense look made my scalp tingle. To ease the prickling discomfort, I hesitated for a moment and then asked, “Where is ‘it’?”

Since his beastly form hadn’t appeared, did it mean his condition was gradually improving?

However, Lambert misunderstood my question. Hearing this, he suddenly stepped forward, pinning me against the library door, his voice dark and somewhat frightening: “Do you really want to see ‘it’ that much?”

At that moment, the oppressive aura he emitted was unbearable. I quickly shook my head and pushed him away a bit: “Of course not… I was just curious. ‘It’ used to appear every night, why not tonight…”

“What do you think?” he lightly retorted.

“…I don’t know.” It would be strange if I did.

He forced me to lift my head, our noses touching, his breath like burning embers, making me shiver: “What else could it be? Because my desire to monopolize you surpasses the instinct to control the body.”

“I want to possess you more than ‘it’ does.” He held my hand, his eyes hiding a certain cold, secret desire, his tone both playful and threatening, “What about you, Rosa?”