Chapter 345 Daughter
Outside the inn, the air was cool and tinged with the salty tang of the sea. The robed young woman, Elara, walked with measured steps, her hood still drawn low over her face. Beside her, Cedric matched her pace, his sharp eyes darting to their surroundings, ever vigilant. The cobblestones beneath their feet gleamed faintly in the pale light of a distant streetlamp.
After a few moments of silence, Elara slowed her stride, turning her head back to glance at the inn they had just left. Her blue eyes, hidden beneath the shadow of her hood, lingered on the wooden structure as if searching for something unseen.
Cedric noticed her hesitation and frowned slightly. "Is something the matter, Lady Elara?" he asked, his voice low and cautious.
She didn't answer immediately, her gaze fixed on the inn for a few more seconds before turning forward again. "Nothing much, Cedric," she said softly. "It's just… that face felt familiar for a moment. As if I've seen him somewhere before."
Cedric's brow furrowed, and he shook his head firmly. "I don't think that's possible, Lady Elara. I would've remembered someone like him. A scarred face with a cat on his shoulder? That's not exactly common. You must be mistaken."
"Perhaps," she murmured, though her voice carried a trace of doubt. Her thoughts returned to the brief moment in the inn—the way the young man's black eyes had widened, as though he recognized her. And then there was the cat.
As she walked alongside Cedric, her thoughts wandered back to the cat. Something about it had stirred an inexplicable sense of familiarity in her. The way its serene gaze had held an almost knowing quality reminded her of someone—or rather, something.
'It's so similar to Master's familiar,' she thought, her fingers brushing lightly against the hem of her robe. She could vividly picture the majestic creature that often accompanied her master, a being of both grace and power. Her master's familiar had carried the same aura, a blend of wisdom and sentimentality that seemed far beyond a mere animal.
The memory brought a pang of homesickness, and she drew in a steadying breath. This wasn't the time to dwell on such things. Still, her gaze flickered briefly to the sky above, where the stars peeked out between rolling clouds.
'Master,' she mused silently, 'you always told me that the world outside your tower would teach me what your lessons could not. I hope… I hope I'm ready.'
The reason she was here came rushing back to her—a whirlwind of nerves and determination. Her master had sent her to Stormhaven with a purpose: to hone her magic, to test her abilities in real-world situations, and to gain a better understanding of her craft. This was her last trial, the final step before she could prove herself worthy of attending the prestigious academy she had dreamed of for so long.
'She is also there...'
Since she has also been notified of the fact that, 'she' would also be attending there.
'And if I want to be there, I need to master everything.'
That was what her master had told her.
"Even if you want to achieve your revenge, you need the strength. Are you confident?"
Her steps faltered for a moment, and she clasped her hands tightly beneath her cloak to keep them from trembling.
'It's my first time joining a real fight,' she admitted to herself. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. She had practiced endlessly in the safety of her master's domain, her magic sharpened through lessons, discipline, and careful guidance. But this—this was different. There would be no controlled environment here, no gentle corrections or second chances.
'I have to prove to Master that I'm ready,' she resolved. Her gaze hardened beneath her hood, the nervous flutter in her chest settling into a steely determination. 'If I can do this—if I can face whatever comes my way in this city—I'll show her that I'm strong enough. Strong enough for the academy. Strong enough to walk this path.'
Cedric's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Lady Elara, you've been quiet for a while. Are you sure everything's fine?"
She glanced at him and offered a small nod. "Yes, Cedric. Just thinking."
He didn't press further, though his eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before turning back to the road ahead. Cedric was like that—always watchful, always ensuring she was safe. She was grateful for his presence, even if he sometimes fretted over her too much.
Elara cast one last glance over her shoulder at the inn, her thoughts briefly returning to the scarred young man and his strange, sentimental cat.
'Familiar or not, it doesn't matter,' she told herself firmly. 'I have a mission here. And I won't let anything distract me.'
With that, she straightened her posture and walked forward with renewed focus. The streets of Stormhaven stretched out before her, a labyrinth of challenges and opportunities—and she was determined to face them head-on.
*********
"It really has been a while."
The bartender, returning to the counter with another tankard for a patron, paused and cocked an eyebrow at Lucavion. "Did you say something?"
Lucavion glanced up, his smirk slipping back into place as smoothly as a mask. He waved a hand dismissively, leaning back in his seat. "Just mumbling to myself. Don't mind me."
The bartender gave him a long, appraising look before shrugging and turning his attention to the food. "Fair enough. Here's the meal, like I promised—fresh catch, roasted with herbs." He placed the plate before Lucavion, the scent of the seabass mingling with the faint tang of salt in the air.
Lucavion inclined his head in thanks, picking up a piece of bread as if nothing in the world could pull him from his casual demeanor. The bartender didn't leave, though. Instead, he leaned on the counter, his scarred face creasing into a faint smirk.
"So," the bartender said, his tone casual but curious, "what do you want to know about? You mentioned the Duke's expedition earlier. Looking to get involved?"
Lucavion paused, tearing off a piece of bread and chewing thoughtfully before replying. "I heard a few things here and there. Rumors about the Duke organizing something big—dangerous, even. Figured you might know more."
The bartender nodded, his mouth widening slightly. "Ah, you've got good ears. The Duke's expedition is the talk of the town, after all. It's not just big—it's enormous. Something about uncharted waters, lost ruins, and monsters tearing apart ships like they're made of paper. You interested in that kind of work?"
Lucavion's smile deepened as he leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow on the counter. "Let's just say I'm curious. What's the Duke hoping to gain from this?"
The bartender scratched his chin, his expression turning pensive. "Hard to say for sure. Some say he's after treasure—artifacts or riches buried in the depths. Others think it's about something more… esoteric. Knowledge, maybe. Either way, it's dangerous enough to scare off most mercenaries. Only the desperate or crazy are lining up for it."
"And Captain Edran?" Lucavion prompted. "I hear he's leading the charge."
"Yeah, he's the one running the show," the bartender confirmed. "Edran's a knight under the Duke's banner, and he's known for being sharp, ruthless, and damn picky. He's holding interviews down at the docks near the western pier. If you want in, you'd better have something to prove your worth—skills, experience, or maybe a connection. Show up unprepared, and you'll be sent packing."
Lucavion nodded, his mind already cataloging the information. "Anything else?"
The bartender's smirk widened slightly as he leaned back, crossing his arms. "That's all the free advice you're getting, stranger. If you want more, it'll cost you."
Lucavion chuckled softly, reaching into his coat. With a flick of his gloved fingers, a silver coin appeared, spinning briefly before he placed it on the counter. "Consider this incentive to keep talking."
The bartender pocketed the coin with practiced ease, his tone growing slightly more conspiratorial. "All right. Here's something worth hearing. The Duke's not just looking for adventurers to fill out the ranks—he's got a payment system set up. Every monster taken down earns a reward, scaled based on its threat level. Parties can hunt together and split the prize as they see fit."
"Generous," Lucavion remarked, his smirk deepening. "Unusual for a noble."
"That's the Duke for you," the bartender said, nodding. "Duke Thaddeus has a reputation for being fair. Pays what's promised, no tricks or delays. That's why adventurers trust him. You won't find many nobles with that kind of pull."n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om
Lucavion nodded thoughtfully, tearing off another piece of bread. "Sounds like quite the operation. The Duke must be in a hurry to get results."
"He is," the bartender replied. "Word is he's putting a lot on the line for this. That's why Edran's been tasked with sorting the wheat from the chaff."
Lucavion took a slow sip of his ale before setting the tankard down. "Interesting. And yet…" His dark eyes glinted faintly as his smirk turned sharper.
"I've heard the Duke's daughter hasn't been well."
He dropped a silent bomb.