The morning sun was soft, muted by a gentle mist that hovered over Silver Blade City, casting a sleepy golden hue through Nolan's villa windows.
Nolan stretched lazily on the edge of his bed, one foot hanging off the mattress, his face buried in the pillows.
The night had been… intense.
From killing a demon-spawn to watching dungeon serpents salute him like soldiers, to Lirazel cradling a crystal like it was her heart and calling him "my lifebinder." Too much. Way too much.
His mind spun with half-formed questions as he lazily rolled off the bed and kicked his feet into his boots.
What the hell was Lirazel going to do with that crystal? Eat it? Worship it? Use it to hatch a dungeon chicken? And now that Yxthul was dead, did that mean things would settle down? Probably not.
Then there was the new problem: the dungeon den had expanded. He now technically owned a two-floored living dungeon.
He didn't even understand the taxes for a single-floor dungeon, much less two.
