“Haha, you are so funny Henry.” Without even a drop of humor in his voice, Lambert still chose to entertain the magician’s whimsy. If he died from this- at this point? He might as well deserve it for dying to something so stupid, he can imagine that the Goddess would receive him with crossed arms as if saying ‘seriously? I did so much for you only so you could get killed by some nutcase at a party?’. With a deep sigh the professor stood in the middle of the magical circle, closing his eyes in anticipation.
At first, nothing. No extra limbs or pain, anything of the sort. For a brief second he even wondered if perhaps Henry had flubbed something and the casting failed. But then a furious itching took over his legs. It was as if he had shoved his feet inside an anthill up to the knee and the little critters got stuck inside his boot, angrily biting so they could be freed- and as a result, urging him to fidget- lest the itching gets worse.
He stood in place- visibly trembling from the urge to either itch his legs like a madman or run around in circles for the same purpose. His stare- or rather, glare, remained solid.
Lambert had always been absolute shit at Reason magic. Faith was easier to manage, to focus on- he could channel his devotion to the Goddess as well as his faith in himself as a leader without the need to memorize formula after formula. As a result, the king abandoned Reason quite early in his life, leaving it to his retainers as well as his brother to pursue. But he remembered one thing- one spell: Thunder.
In normal circumstances, it would’ve been a relatively innocent zap- a sad little fizzle in the hands of an untrained man with poor magic affinity. But that wasn’t how things rolled within the Blaiddyd bloodline.
A sad little zap, aimed at a spot somewhere behind Henry, instead was amplified beyond control, blowing off a solid amount of wall in the process and charring whoever was nearby in the process- thankfully not many people. The Church wasn’t going to be very happy about thi- but he was just gonna blame Henry. He was gonna blame Henry.
Well, there was an extra flower in his bouquet now. He did hand over one of his own lilies to the mage in camaraderie- toasted camaraderie, while also fidgeting in place before beelining to the training grounds to run laps around it in hopes of making the spell wear off.
Somehow, he didn’t hate Henry at all.