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Chapter 381: Rewards

As Seria stepped back onto the ship, her composure visibly slipped, her polite mask cracking as she released a frustrated huff. Her usually neat movements were slightly rushed as she walked briskly toward Madeleina and Aeliana, the tension in her frame evident.

"My lady," Seria began, her voice tight with irritation. "That man is… infuriating."

Aeliana tilted her veiled face slightly, her curiosity momentarily overshadowing her unease. "What happened?"

Seria exhaled sharply, her hands clenching at her sides. "He speaks as though the words coming out of my mouth mean nothing. I implied, hinted, even outright suggested things that any sensible person would understand, and yet he acted as if it all flew over his head."

Madeleina, standing composed as ever, nodded in agreement. "He certainly presents himself as someone ignorant of decorum or implications. It's as if he's oblivious to the importance of the Thaddeus Duchy… or worse, he simply doesn't care."

Seria's lips thinned into a tight line. "Exactly. Either he's an uneducated fool who doesn't recognize the weight of your name, my lady, or he's so insolent that he dismisses it entirely."

Aeliana's fingers drummed lightly against her armrest. "Interesting," she murmured, her tone calm but with an edge of thoughtfulness. "And what's your assessment, Madeleina?"

Madeleina tilted her head slightly, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "It is difficult to say. On the surface, he appears to be nothing more than a charlatan, someone skilled in combat but lacking refinement or respect for noble authority. However…" Her voice trailed off, her brows furrowing.

"However?" Aeliana prompted, her curiosity piqued.

"However," Madeleina continued, her tone measured, "there is something deliberate about his demeanor. His flippancy, his mockery—it feels less like ignorance

"However," Madeleina continued, her tone measured, "there is something deliberate about his demeanor. His flippancy, his mockery—it feels less like ignorance and more like deflection. He knows exactly what he's doing, and it is not by chance."

Seria scowled, crossing her arms. "If that's the case, then he's even more intolerable. Mocking the authority of the duchy so brazenly—it's insulting."

Aeliana leaned back slightly, her veil shifting as she tilted her head in contemplation. "Perhaps. But if he truly doesn't care about the Thaddeus name, or if he's deflecting as you say, that makes him even more curious. He's not like the others, and that much is clear."

Her voice dropped slightly, her tone more to herself than her companions. "Still, that doesn't explain why I feel… like he's looking straight through me."

Madeleina gave her a reassuring glance. "My lady, it's likely your imagination. The device is undetectable."

Aeliana nodded, though the tension in her chest didn't ease. "Perhaps," she said softly. "But keep observing him. I want to know more about this 'Mister Luca.'"

*******

Lucavion watched Seria retreat, her composed stride a little too stiff, her back just a little too straight—subtle signs of someone carefully masking their irritation. His smirk lingered as he murmured under his breath, "How interesting."

[She looked rather annoyed by your demeanor,] Vitaliara chimed in, her tone tinged with amusement. [You've really mastered the art of getting under people's skin.]

Lucavion chuckled softly, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. "If I'm not compatible with someone, what other choice do I have? It's not as if it's my fault."

[Of course not,] Vitaliara replied dryly. [It's never your fault, is it?]

Lucavion shrugged, his smirk broadening. "Naturally."

He leaned back against the nearest railing, his gaze drifting toward the horizon where the faint silhouette of the Thaddeus Duchy's ship lingered in the distance. His expression softened slightly, thoughtful rather than amused. Miss Seria's questions were pointed, but her interest wasn't casual. And then there's that veiled girl, watching from the shadows…

[Still thinking about her?] Vitaliara asked, her voice breaking into his thoughts. [You've been unusually interested in that ship.]

'It's hard not to be,' Lucavion replied inwardly. 'They're playing a game, and they've chosen me as one of the pieces. I can't help but wonder what their next move will be.'

[Don't get too comfortable,] Vitaliara warned, though her tone was light. [Watchful eyes like those rarely mean well.]

Lucavion's smirk returned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced toward the projection device that had been used to monitor him. "Oh, I'm counting on that."

As he turned back toward the camp, his posture relaxed and his stride unhurried, Vitaliara's voice echoed faintly in his mind, her tone playful but edged with sincerity. [You can't resist stirring the pot, can you?]

'It's not about stirring the pot,' Lucavion thought, his smirk curving into something sharper. 'It's about making sure the pot doesn't boil over without me knowing why.'

The expedition pressed onward, the icy platforms shimmering faintly under the dimming light of the horizon. The steady rhythm of the ship's motion and the occasional hum of mana from the mages maintaining the platforms formed a backdrop to the tense quiet that had settled over the group.

Lucavion used the time to center himself, his focus turning inward. The residual energy from his recent breakthrough still coursed through him, faintly volatile but undeniably potent. It was a sensation he couldn't quite describe—a newfound lightness in his body, as if the weight of his previous limits had been shed, replaced by a sharper edge of strength.

'Much better,' he thought, flexing his fingers and feeling the subtle hum of mana responding to his will. 'Everything feels… enhanced.'

Though he hadn't yet pushed his [Flame of Equinox] to its limits, he couldn't ignore the difference in its density. The flames, when called upon, coiled around his blade with an intensity that was almost alive, flickering brighter, hotter, more focused than before. Even a brief coating of the flames ignited monsters far faster than he was accustomed to, the heat searing through their defenses as if drawn directly to their weaknesses.

During the smaller skirmishes that punctuated their journey, Lucavion wielded his enhanced power sparingly, testing its edges without revealing too much. He danced through the battlefield with an ease that surprised even him, his blade slicing cleanly through the monstrous foes as though they were no more than shadows.

One creature—a particularly grotesque amphibian with scaled, mucus-covered limbs—lunged at him from the side. Lucavion's estoc moved in a blur, the blade coated in a faint sheen of the [Flame of Equinox]. As it struck, the monster ignited almost instantly, the flames spreading like wildfire across its body and reducing it to smoldering embers in moments.

Lucavion paused, watching the aftermath with narrowed eyes. 'This isn't just stronger. It's... hungrier.'

[Your flames are different now, aren't they?] Vitaliara's voice broke through his thoughts, her tone both curious and approving. [Faster, more destructive. It's as though they're waiting for you to let them loose.]

'They feel denser,' Lucavion replied inwardly, his smirk faint as he examined the faint flicker of flames lingering on his blade. 'More refined. Like they've been tempered somehow.'

[That's the result of the breakthrough,] Vitaliara said, her tail flicking playfully in his mind. [You've pushed past your old limits, and now your power is evolving to match. But be careful—strength like this can draw attention.]

Lucavion chuckled softly, sheathing his estoc as he glanced toward the next wave of monsters gathering in the distance. "Attention isn't a bad thing, Vitaliara. It's what you do with it that matters."

[Typical,] Vitaliara muttered, though there was no mistaking the faint amusement in her tone.

As the expedition continued, Lucavion settled into a rhythm, honing his new strength while keeping his true potential just beneath the surface. Each clash was an opportunity—a step toward mastering not just his power but the balance between control and chaos.

******

The evening sky was painted with hues of deep crimson and gold, the aftermath of battle reflected in the dim glow of the horizon. The battlefield had finally quieted, the monstrous roars replaced by the faint crackle of torches and the murmur of exhausted voices. The expedition had succeeded in its objective—countless monsters had been slain, their carcasses strewn across the battlefield or dragged off to be dealt with later.

Captain Eryndor stood at the center of the gathered adventurers and knights, his silver-gray hair gleaming under the flickering light of the torches. Around him were the other station leaders, their armor battered but their postures upright and commanding. Among them, Captain Edran's presence was particularly notable. His stern expression was softened slightly by the satisfaction of a hard-fought victory.

"This marks the end of today's efforts," Eryndor began, his voice carrying over the tired but attentive crowd. "You've all done well. The sea routes are safer, and the monsters that threatened our trade have been culled. For now."

A ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd, a mixture of relief and pride. Some adventurers exchanged glances, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten as the atmosphere shifted to anticipation.

"And now," Captain Edran said, stepping forward, his voice steady but firm, "we come to the matter that most of you have been waiting for."

He said as she signaled the porters to come forward.

"The rewards."

Chapter 382: Rewards (2)

"The rewards."

At this, the crowd's energy surged, and even the most fatigued adventurers straightened, their eyes gleaming with interest. The rewards were the culmination of their efforts, the tangible proof of their participation and skill.

"The rewards will be distributed based on participation, contribution, and the monsters slain," Edran continued, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd. "Each kill has been logged, and the spoils will be allocated fairly."

A large ledger was brought forward by one of Edran's aides, its pages filled with meticulous notes on the expedition's kills. Next to it was a collection of small, weighted bags—each containing the promised gold coins. Alongside the monetary rewards were a variety of materials harvested from the slain monsters: scales, fangs, claws, and other valuable parts that could fetch a high price in Stormhaven's markets.

"First," Edran said, "to the groups with the highest contribution."

He began reading off names and group numbers, the rewards handed out with precise efficiency. Each group approached in turn, receiving their share with a mixture of pride and gratitude. Some groups were met with cheers, others with respectful nods. The adventurers, for all their differences, understood the value of hard work and the respect it earned.

Elara and Cedric stood among the crowd, their expressions calm but their anticipation evident. Cedric glanced at Elara, his voice low. "We did well. Don't let the tension get to you."

Elara nodded, her thoughts briefly wandering to her contributions during the battle. Her frost magic had been effective, and she knew she had proven herself—not just to the others, but to herself as well.

Finally, Edran called out, "Group Four."

Elara and Cedric stepped forward, their names among those listed. They received their rewards—a pouch of gold and a selection of monster materials. Cedric accepted the items, his posture respectful as he inclined his head toward Edran.

"Good work out there," Edran said simply, his gaze lingering on Elara for a moment. She felt a flicker of pride but quickly composed herself, nodding in return.

As they stepped back, another name rang out, drawing a noticeable stir from the crowd.

"Adventurer Luca."

The young man stepped forward, his scarred face calm but his black eyes gleaming with quiet intensity. His cat rested on his shoulder, its white fur pristine even after the chaos of battle. Whispers rippled through the crowd as Lucavion approached, his reputation from the day preceding him.

Eryndor watched him closely, his expression inscrutable. The ledger's aide handed Lucavion his reward—an unusually heavy pouch of gold and a selection of high-grade materials. It was clear his contributions had been substantial.

"Your performance exceeded expectations," Eryndor said, addressing him directly. "If this is your standard, you'll find no shortage of opportunities in Stormhaven."

Lucavion stepped forward, his movements relaxed, his cat perched contentedly on his shoulder. The crowd watched him closely, the faint jingling of the heavy pouch of gold in his hands drawing even more attention. He examined his reward briefly, then smirked, his sharp features illuminated by the torchlight.

"Quite a haul," he said casually, his voice carrying over the murmuring crowd. "Looks like I'll never be poor in my life."

The remark sent a ripple through the gathered adventurers. Some laughed nervously, while others exchanged uneasy glances. The sheer weight of his reward was undeniable, the pouch brimming with gold and high-grade monster materials. Whispers spread like wildfire, the disbelief palpable.

"His haul is bigger than even the rank-5s…"

"How is that possible?"

"He's just a D-rank…"

"That guy's a butcher, plain and simple," someone muttered, shaking their head. "Did you see him out there? He was cutting through monsters like they were nothing."

Despite the awe in some voices, others carried a sharper edge of envy. For adventurers, survival often hinged on gold and resources. Seeing someone walk away with what seemed an unfair share—especially someone they didn't fully understand—stirred greed and resentment among the crowd.

It didn't take long for objections to arise.

"This doesn't make sense!" a burly man from the first group of the Fourth Station stepped forward, his face twisted with indignation. His comrades murmured in agreement, their gazes fixed on Lucavion's reward with thinly veiled greed. "Why does he get so much? We've been killing monsters all day, working our asses off, and our share isn't even close to that."

"Exactly!" another chimed in, his tone sharper. "We're from the first group, and we haven't even seen this guy fight. How do we know he isn't just riding on someone else's work?"

Lucavion's smirk didn't falter. He turned slightly, his black eyes scanning the dissenters with calm amusement, as if their outburst was little more than an expected inconvenience. His cat yawned lazily, entirely indifferent to the tension building in the crowd.

Captain Eryndor raised a hand, his commanding presence cutting through the commotion like a blade. "Silence!" he barked, his voice carrying the weight of authority. The murmurs subsided instantly, and the adventurers turned their attention to him.

Eryndor's gaze was cold as he addressed the protestors. "The rewards are calculated based on contribution, not assumptions. If you had been paying attention, you would've seen the man's performance on the field. He didn't just fight—he dominated."

"But—" the burly man began, only for Eryndor to cut him off with a sharp glare.

"You doubt the records?" Eryndor's tone was icy, his eyes narrowing. "Every kill was logged and accounted for. Are you suggesting we fabricated the numbers?"

The objectors hesitated, their expressions wavering. Challenging a captain of Eryndor's stature wasn't a risk most adventurers were willing to take.

"He was in the Fourth Station, wasn't he?" another adventurer piped up, their voice laced with suspicion. "Why haven't we seen him?"

Captain Edran, standing nearby, stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "Because he fought in the central section, where the heaviest waves were concentrated. While you were handling the perimeter, he was cutting down the beasts flooding the station's core. Without his efforts, the Fourth Station wouldn't have held."

The crowd fell silent, the weight of Edran's words sinking in. Those who had fought near the central section of the station nodded in quiet agreement, their expressions a mixture of respect and wariness.

Lucavion shrugged nonchalantly, the smirk on his lips never fading. "Seems like the numbers speak for themselves," he said, his tone light but cutting.

Eryndor's gaze swept over the crowd, his voice ringing out once more. "You've all done well today, but let me remind you: this isn't just about gold or materials. It's about survival. Each of you contributed to this victory, and each of you will be rewarded accordingly. If you can't stomach the idea of someone outshining you, then perhaps you're in the wrong line of work."

The dissenters shrank back, their grumbles fading into uneasy silence. The tension in the air began to dissipate as the rest of the adventurers turned their attention back to their rewards, their excitement outweighing their lingering jealousy.

Lucavion, meanwhile, pocketed his reward with a satisfied nod. His cat stretched lazily on his shoulder, and he turned to leave the platform, his presence still commanding attention even as he moved back into the crowd.

******

The guild hall was a whirlwind of activity that evening, the dim lighting casting warm hues over the polished wooden floors. The air hummed with the energy of adventurers returning from the expedition, their voices raised in bargaining, camaraderie, or thinly veiled frustration as they jostled for space to sell their spoils.

Lucavion stepped through the heavy oak doors, his movements unhurried despite the chaos around him. The flickering lanterns highlighted the sharp lines of his face, his scar catching the light as his cat, Vitaliara, perched on his shoulder, her tail swaying idly.

The moment he entered, a subtle ripple passed through the room. Heads turned, and whispers began to weave through the crowd. His earlier performance still lingered in the minds of the adventurers, a mix of awe and envy sparking renewed curiosity.

Corvina Farrow, the Guildmaster, stood at her usual post near the central ledger, her sharp eyes scanning the bustling hall. Her fingers tapped lightly on the edge of her desk, her thoughts momentarily distant as she processed the day's influx of activity. But the moment her gaze landed on Lucavion, her expression shifted—her usual composed demeanor sharpening with interest.

"Ah," she murmured to herself, straightening as she motioned discreetly to one of her aides. "Clear the counter."

The young aide, startled but obedient, quickly moved to make space at the main counter, shooing away a pair of adventurers who had been arguing over the value of a Thunderhawk pelt.

Lucavion approached with his usual relaxed stride, his smirk already in place. Corvina stepped forward to meet him, her voice calm yet carrying an undertone of authority that cut through the surrounding noise.

"Luca," she greeted, deliberately using the name he had chosen earlier. Her gaze flicked briefly to the cat on his shoulder before settling on him. "I trust your expedition went well?"

He inclined his head slightly, his smirk deepening. "Well enough, Guildmaster. I thought I'd lighten my load—figuratively, of course." His tone carried a playful edge, though his dark eyes glinted with unmistakable intent.

Corvina gestured toward the cleared counter, her expression neutral but her gaze lingering on him with barely concealed curiosity. "By all means. Let's see what you've brought this time."

Lucavion placed his gloved hand inside his coat, retrieving a spatial ring with a practiced flourish.

But then before he could do anything, Corvina acted immediately.

"Cough….Let's not do it here…."

She was about to make a huge mistake…..

Thankfully she had restrained herself.

Chapter 383: Rewards (3)

Corvina straightened abruptly, her usual calm nearly slipping. Clearing her throat, she motioned for Lucavion to stop before he could activate the spatial ring.

"Cough… Let's not do it here," she said, her tone cool but hurried. Her sharp eyes darted to the adventurers around them, who were already craning their necks and murmuring in anticipation.

Lucavion raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking into a knowing smirk. "Something wrong, Guildmaster?"

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before regaining her composure. "Only that this is hardly the place for... such a spectacle," she replied smoothly, gesturing for him to follow. "Come. I'll take you to a more appropriate venue."

Without waiting for a response, Corvina turned on her heel, her cloak billowing slightly as she led the way through the guild hall. Lucavion followed at a leisurely pace, his cat purring contentedly on his shoulder, tail swaying in rhythm with his steps. Behind them, the hum of the crowd rose as the adventurers speculated wildly about what was about to happen.

Corvina pushed open a set of heavy double doors, revealing a spacious, well-lit room tucked away at the back of the guild. The chamber was clearly designed for high-value transactions. A long, sturdy table occupied the center, surrounded by reinforced storage cabinets. The walls were lined with shelves holding various tools for appraising and preserving rare materials. A few enchanted lanterns cast a steady, warm glow over the polished stone floor.

"This should suffice," Corvina said, stepping aside to allow Lucavion entry. Her voice carried its usual authority, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of anticipation.

Lucavion gave the room a cursory glance, his smirk deepening. "Quite the setup. I take it you don't do this for just anyone."

"You'd be correct," she replied, her tone clipped but not unfriendly. "Now, let's see what you've brought."

Lucavion stepped to the center of the room and raised his gloved hand, holding the spatial ring between his fingers. With a subtle pulse of mana, the ring activated, its energy shimmering as its contents spilled forth.

The room was suddenly filled with the overwhelming sight of monster carcasses and rare materials. Frost Wyrm scales glinted like shards of ice under the lantern light, their iridescent sheen mesmerizing. The enormous, crystalline claws of a Sandstorm Behemoth sprawled across the floor, their size dwarfing the table. Thundercloud Serpent fangs, Void Elemental cores, and heaps of smaller but no less valuable components were piled high, the sheer volume threatening to overrun the room.

Corvina's mouth fell open as she took an involuntary step back. "What…?"

Her voice trailed off, her sharp mind momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the collection. The assortment was beyond impressive—it was staggering, a haul that could rival the spoils of an entire expedition.

Lucavion's smirk never wavered. "Too much?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.

Corvina snapped her mouth shut, quickly recovering her composure. She straightened her posture, though her eyes continued to flicker over the treasures sprawled before her. "Hardly," she said, though her voice was a touch strained. "But I wasn't expecting… this."

Corvina's sharp eyes scanned the sprawling collection, but her attention was soon drawn to something that dwarfed the rest. At the far end of the room lay an enormous carcass, its sheer presence commanding the space.

The creature's body was long and sinewy, covered in shimmering, oceanic scales that glistened in the lantern light like a cascading waterfall of blues and greens. Its massive fangs, each as long as a broadsword, jutted from its powerful jaws. The faint remnants of its mana radiated through the room, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

Corvina took a cautious step forward, her eyes widening as recognition set in. Her breath hitched, and she whispered almost reverently, "An Evolved Sea Serpent… And it's even of a peak rank-4 strength."

Her voice carried a mix of awe and disbelief, the weight of her statement causing the aides in the room to exchange stunned glances. Peak Rank-4 monsters were not only rare but dangerously close to the upper limits of what most adventurers could handle. For one to be taken down and brought back in such pristine condition was nothing short of extraordinary.

"How did you even kill it?" she asked, her voice sharper now as she turned to Lucavion. Her disbelief was palpable, her usually composed demeanor giving way to genuine curiosity.

Lucavion gazed at the enormous carcass, the shimmering scales of the Evolved Sea Serpent reflecting faintly in his dark eyes. He stepped closer to the creature, his movements unhurried, and then turned back to Corvina, his expression unreadable.

"That one," he said, his voice calm but firm, "is not for sale. At least, not yet."

Corvina blinked, her sharp gaze narrowing. "Not for sale?" she echoed, her tone carrying a mix of curiosity and incredulity. "You brought it here, Luca. Why would you hold it back?"

Lucavion's eyes gleamed with a faint edge of amusement. "Because," he said, his voice dropping slightly, "I need to talk to someone before I decide what to do with it."

Corvina tilted her head, her mind already racing. 'Talk to someone? That's… unexpected.' She studied him closely, searching for any hint of deception in his tone or demeanor. "And who might that be?" she asked cautiously.

Lucavion folded his arms, his cat purring contentedly on his shoulder as if completely unbothered by the gravity of the discussion. "It wasn't just me who brought this serpent down," he admitted. "There was someone else involved. Without their help, I wouldn't have been able to kill it."

'He didn't do it alone?' Corvina's thoughts flickered with intrigue, her respect for Lucavion tempered slightly by this new revelation. 'So, even someone like him has limits. Interesting.'

"And who is this mysterious helper?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

Lucavion's smirk returned, though it was softer now, almost contemplative. "Did someone named Elara come to the guild recently?"

The name sparked something in Corvina's memory, and she frowned slightly, her sharp mind sifting through the influx of adventurers she'd encountered over the past few days. 'Elara… That does sound familiar.' Her gaze flicked away from Lucavion as she delved into her thoughts.

And then it clicked. 'That girl. The one with the striking frost magic. Elara and her knight… Cedric, wasn't it?'

Corvina straightened, her expression sharpening as she looked back at Lucavion. "Elara and Cedric. Yes, I remember them. They came in yesterday to log their participation in the expedition. They stood out—not just because of their skills, but because there was something extraordinary about them."

Lucavion nodded, his smirk deepening slightly. "Then you've met her. It was thanks to Elara that I was able to kill the serpent."

Corvina raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "I see. She must have made quite the impression on you if you're giving her credit for this."

Lucavion shrugged, his tone casual. "It's not a matter of impression, Guild master. It's a fact. Her frost magic snared the serpent and kept it from retreating back into the ocean. Without that, I wouldn't have had the chance to strike the killing blow."

Corvina crossed her arms, tapping her fingers against her elbow as she processed his words. 'So, this Elara isn't just skilled—she's strategic. To coordinate with someone like Lucavion and succeed against a peak rank-4 monster… She's no ordinary adventurer.'

"I see," she said finally, her voice steady but thoughtful. "If that's the case, it's only fair that you discuss its sale with her. But be aware, Luca—monsters of this caliber don't go unnoticed. Holding onto it too long might invite… complications."

Lucavion chuckled softly, his dark eyes gleaming with confidence. "Complications are my specialty, Guildmaster. But I appreciate the warning."

Corvina's lips quirked in a faint smile, though her mind continued to churn. 'Elara and Cedric… I need to keep an eye on them. If they're capable of working with someone like Lucavion and achieving this, they could be invaluable assets—or dangerous wildcards.'

"Very well," Corvina said, her tone brisk once more. "I'll consider this matter pending until you've resolved things with Elara. But let me make one thing clear, Luca—if you plan to keep bringing creatures like this into my guild, you'd better be prepared for the attention it'll draw."

Lucavion inclined his head, his smirk never faltering. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

As Corvina watched him, she couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of admiration and wariness. 'This man… He's as dangerous as the monsters he hunts. And yet, he's more intriguing than anyone I've encountered in years. Stormhaven is about to get a lot more interesting.'

Chapter 384: The inn

The inn by the sea was a vision of luxury compared to the rough accommodations Elara and Cedric had endured before the expedition. Its polished wooden floors gleamed under the warm light of lanterns, and the air carried a faint scent of salt and lavender. Waves crashed softly outside, their rhythm a soothing counterpoint to the gentle murmur of other patrons enjoying the inn's comforts.

Elara sighed contentedly as she leaned back in her chair by the window, savoring the faint breeze that wafted through the slightly open shutters. For once, her body felt lighter, the promise of a clean bath and a plush bed lifting her spirits after the grueling battle. The weight of exhaustion still clung to her limbs, but it was the good kind—the kind that came with the satisfaction of having earned her rest.

Cedric, however, sat across from her in silence. His broad shoulders were hunched slightly, his gaze fixed on the table in front of him. His sword leaned against the wall by his side, untouched since they'd arrived. He looked… bothered, and the tension in his posture was unmistakable.

Elara's brows furrowed slightly as she watched him. She didn't need to ask what was wrong. She already knew.

The duel.

The memory of it was still fresh in her mind—the way Luca had moved with a precision and ease that was almost inhuman, his every strike deliberate and devastating. Cedric, for all his strength and training, had been completely outclassed. Even she, with her limited knowledge of swordsmanship, had seen it.

"Cedric," Elara said gently, breaking the silence. "You can't keep dwelling on it."

Cedric's head lifted slightly, his gaze meeting hers briefly before dropping back to the table. "I'm not dwelling," he muttered, though the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

Elara tilted her head, her expression softening. "You're a terrible liar."

Cedric didn't respond to Elara's words. He couldn't. His jaw tightened, his fists clenching on the table as if anchoring himself in place. The memory of the duel replayed in his mind with agonizing clarity—the moment Luca's blade was at his neck, the faint smirk on his face, and the low, condescending voice that echoed in his ears.

"Remember your place."

That single phrase, uttered with such cold certainty, cut deeper than the blade ever could. It wasn't just the loss that stung; it was the way Luca had looked at him—like he was something insignificant, a mere obstacle in his path. That gaze, sharp and piercing, felt like a judgment Cedric couldn't overturn, as if it declared that he would never measure up.

His body had refused to move under Luca's presence, and that was the worst part. For someone who prided himself on strength, on discipline, on the years of relentless training he'd endured, being rendered powerless was a humiliation he couldn't shake.

"I'm fine," Cedric finally muttered, his voice low and clipped, though it was clear even to himself that the words rang hollow.

Elara didn't press him, but her concerned gaze lingered.

The vividness of the scene refused to leave him. Every detail—the faint hum of the blade as it grazed his skin, the predatory glint in Luca's pitch-black eyes, and the weight of his own failure—was burned into his mind. He felt a wave of anger rise in his chest, hot and consuming.

But beneath the anger was something else, something more unsettling.

Loss.

For the first time, Cedric felt like he was floundering in unfamiliar waters. He had always been confident in his abilities, always sure of his place as a knight candidate of the Valoria Dukedom. Yet Luca had shattered that certainty with frightening ease.

'Am I really that weak?' he thought, the question gnawing at him like a parasite.

And then there was the scene at the reward distribution earlier that day.

Cedric had tried to stand tall beside Elara as they received their share. He had wanted to focus on their accomplishments, on how they had fought together and proven themselves. But when Luca's name was called, everything unraveled.

The sheer weight of Luca's haul—more gold, more materials, and more recognition than anyone else—was undeniable. The murmurs in the crowd only drove the point further into Cedric's chest, each whisper like a dagger twisting in his gut.

"He's just a D-rank…"

"That guy's a butcher…"

"His haul is bigger than the rank-5s…"

Cedric had clenched his jaw so tightly that it ached, his knuckles white as he gripped the pouch of gold in his hand. The disparity between their rewards felt like a glaring reminder of his inadequacy.

How could he not feel the resentment, the bitter anger at being so thoroughly outdone? Yet mixed with that was something he couldn't admit to anyone, not even himself—a faint, gnawing envy.

'How does he do it?' Cedric thought bitterly. 'What makes him so different? So much… better?'

Now, sitting across from Elara in the quiet luxury of the inn, Cedric couldn't shake those feelings. The waves crashing softly outside did little to soothe the storm within him. He wanted to smash the table, to scream, to do something to drown out the voice in his head telling him he wasn't enough.

But he didn't. Instead, he simply stayed back.

And to that, Elara let out a slow, exasperated sigh, her patience wearing thin as she watched Cedric remain locked in his brooding silence. She was tired—bone-deep exhaustion tugging at her limbs after the battle and the long day that followed. She'd thought that the comfort of the inn and the promise of a warm bath would help them both relax, but clearly, Cedric wasn't about to let go of his self-imposed misery anytime soon.

And honestly? She didn't have the energy to deal with it.

"Fine," she muttered under her breath, rising from her seat with a determined motion. If Cedric wanted to sulk, so be it. She wasn't going to waste her evening playing therapist to a grown man who couldn't pull himself out of his funk.

Crossing the room with purposeful strides, Elara approached the reception desk. Behind it stood a middle-aged receptionist with a polished demeanor and a welcoming smile. The elegant surroundings of The Ocean's Rest Inn, with its dark mahogany counter and subtle marine-themed decor, exuded the kind of sophistication Elara had been hoping for when she'd chosen it.

"I'd like to pay for a room," she said, her voice crisp as she pulled her pouch of gold from her belt. "The best one you have, for two people."

The receptionist's smile widened as she dipped her head respectfully. "Of course, Lady Adventurer. You've chosen wisely. Our top-tier suite includes private bathing facilities, a chef-prepared meal delivered to your room, and access to our exclusive massage service."

"Perfect," Elara replied, her tone already softening at the thought of a hot bath and high-quality food. "How much?"

The receptionist quoted the price, and Elara didn't flinch as she counted out the necessary coins. For once, their earnings from the expedition felt like money well-spent.

As the receptionist handed her the key, Elara felt a flicker of anticipation. She'd heard glowing recommendations about The Ocean's Rest Inn from local adventurers—about its luxurious private baths, meals fit for nobility, and staff trained in massage techniques that could work miracles on even the most battle-worn bodies.

Carrying the key, she turned back toward Cedric, who was still seated where she'd left him. His hands were folded on the table, his head bowed slightly as he stared at the polished wood in front of him, lost in thought.

Elara's brow twitched as a flicker of annoyance bubbled in her chest. "Cedric," she said, her tone sharper than before as she approached him. When he didn't respond, she dropped the key onto the table with a decisive clink.

"We're staying in the best room here," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "It's got a bath, food, and massages. You can sulk all you want after you've cleaned up and eaten something. Got it?"

Cedric blinked, finally looking up at her. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes at her directness, but he didn't argue. Instead, he gave a slow nod, his expression softening just enough to show he understood.

"Good," Elara said, snatching the key back from the table. "Now, let's go. I didn't pay for luxury just to stand around waiting for you."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed toward the staircase that led to their room, her steps steady and resolute. Behind her, Cedric sighed, rising to follow her without a word.

Maybe, she thought, this would be the reset they both needed.

*******

Elara emerged from the bath feeling like an entirely different person. The warm water, scented with lavender oils, had done wonders for her aching muscles and frayed nerves. Her skin glowed faintly, the tension in her shoulders all but gone as she donned a fresh set of clothes. She tied her damp hair into a loose braid, her movements slower and more relaxed now.

Knocking lightly on Cedric's door, she called out, "Cedric? I'm heading down for a meal. You should come too."

From the other side of the door, his voice came muffled but firm. "I'll pass. I need to rest."

Elara hesitated for a moment before nodding to herself. "Alright," she said simply. "Rest well."

She didn't press further. If Cedric needed time to himself, she wasn't going to force him to join her. With a shrug, she turned and made her way toward the restaurant. The scent of grilled fish, fresh bread, and spiced stews wafted up the staircase, teasing her senses as she descended.

The restaurant area was located just past the reception desk, a cozy yet refined space with polished wooden tables and softly glowing lanterns casting a warm light. Elara was already imagining what she'd order when her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure standing by the reception desk.

"Luca?"