The cheers of Eldwood's townsfolk still rang in Leon's ears as he followed Saria back toward the church, his legs heavy with exhaustion and his mind buzzing with the surreal weight of being called a savior.
The smooth stone in his hand, now cool to the touch, felt like a tether to the magic he'd barely begun to understand.
Saria led the way, her black ponytail swaying with her steady strides, her leather tunic streaked with soot and blood from the battle.
Her face remained a blank mask, her dark eyes fixed on the church's looming silhouette, its steeple cutting through the thinning fog.
The distant sounds of rebuilding—hammers on wood, voices calling out—filled the air, a stark contrast to the war drums that had haunted the night.
grrrrrrrr!
Leon's stomach growled loudly, a rumbling protest that echoed off the stone walls as they entered the church's cool, incense-scented interior.
Saria paused, her head tilting slightly, though her expression didn't change.
"You're hungry," she said, her tone flat but with a faint edge of surprise, as if she'd forgotten he was more than a summoned tool. "I… apologize. You're human, not just a summon."
Leon's face flushed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, uh, turns out saving a town works up an appetite," he said, forcing a shaky grin. "I haven't eaten since… well, that Solberry, and that was more magic than meal." His stomach growled again, louder, and he winced, glancing at Saria. "Any chance this fantasy world has, like, a burger joint?"
Saria's eyes narrowed slightly, the closest thing to amusement he'd seen from her. "No burgers. But the Tipsy Solberry(a tavern) has food." She turned, gesturing for him to follow. "Come. We'll train after you eat."
Granny Elda, hobbling behind, cackled. "Feed the boy before he faints, girl. He's no use to us starving." Her staff tapped the stone floor, and Leon shot her a half-hearted glare, too hungry to muster a real comeback.
The Tipsy Solberry was a cozy tavern on the edge of Eldwood's main square, its wooden walls glowing with lantern light and the faint scent of roasted meat wafting through the air.
Inside, the tables were packed with townsfolk, their faces weary but hopeful, sharing mugs of ale and plates of steaming food. Leon's mouth watered as he slid into a booth across from Saria, who ordered a mug of ale with a nod to the bartender.
The man, a burly figure with a bushy beard, set a menu carved on a wooden plank in front of Leon.
Leon scanned it, his eyes widening at the unfamiliar names.
"Drake Wing Stew? Glowcap Pie? Spiced Wyrm Skewer?" he muttered, his stomach growling louder.
"This is… intense." He hesitated, then pointed at the stew, his voice tentative. "I'll try that. Sounds safe-ish." Emboldened by the smell of food, he added, "And the pie. Oh, and the skewer. Gotta live a little, right?" He grinned, though his nerves made it wobbly.
Saria sipped her ale, her face still expressionless, but her eyes flicked to him with a hint of curiosity. "You're adapting," she said, her tone neutral. "Good."
The food arrived quickly, and Leon dove in with gusto.
The Drake Wing Stew was savory, with glowing herbs that tingled on his tongue, like a spicy chili with a magical kick.
The Glowcap Pie was flaky and sweet, its mushroom filling oddly comforting, and the Spiced Wyrm Skewer—tough but flavorful—made him feel like a fantasy adventurer for real.
He ate like a man possessed, barely pausing to breathe, his earlier fears drowned out by the sheer joy of a full stomach.
Saria watched, her mug paused halfway to her lips, her stoic facade softening ever so slightly.
"You eat like a starved wolf," she said, her voice flat but with a faint lilt that might've been amusement.
Leon paused mid-bite, a chunk of pie crumbling onto his plate.
"Hey, saving a town's hard work," he said, his mouth full. "Gotta fuel my powers."
He winked, immediately regretting it as Saria's eyes narrowed, though the corner of her mouth twitched.
Before he could say more, the tavern door swung open, and a hush fell over the room.
Heads turned, whispers rippling through the crowd—"She's back," "Look at her face." Leon froze, a skewer halfway to his mouth, as a hooded figure stepped inside, their footsteps heavy and deliberate.
Saria tensed, her hand tightening on her mug, her eyes narrowing. "So you've finally arrived, Terya," she said, her voice low but sharp, cutting through the silence.
The figure lowered her hood, revealing a woman whose beauty rivaled Saria's, with shoulder-length blonde hair that shimmered in the lantern light.
Her face was stunning—high cheekbones, full lips, and piercing green eyes—but half of it was marred by a black, web-like curse that pulsed faintly, creeping across her cheek like a living tattoo.
Her toned figure was clad in a tight leather vest and pants, a short sword at her hip, and she carried herself with a cocky confidence that made Leon's jaw drop.
Whoa. Another badass warrior chick?
His mind, still buzzing from the battle and Saria's ritual, went straight to the gutter, and he blushed, shoving another bite of pie into his mouth to hide it.
Saria stood, her face still a blank mask but her eyes wide with rare concern.
She crossed the room in three strides, stopping inches from the woman.
"Terya," she said, her voice softer than Leon had ever heard. "What happened?"
Terya's smirk was strained, her skin flushed with fever. "I got your call for help, Saria," she said, her voice husky but steady.
"So, I went to scout a demon's lair for intel on Vraxus. Got ambushed. Had to use a cursed amulet to escape." She touched the web-like mark on her face, wincing. "Now this thing's burning me from the inside out. Weakens me every hour."
Saria's eyes flicked to the bartender.
"Holy water. Now." Her tone was sharp, and the man scrambled, returning with a crystal bottle filled with shimmering liquid.
Saria handed it to Terya, who drank deeply, her flushed skin calming slightly, though the curse still pulsed on her cheek.
Leon watched, his food forgotten, his heart pounding.
Another curse?
The memory of Saria's ritual—her lips, the surge of magic—flashed through his mind, and he blushed harder, hoping no one noticed.
Terya's eyes landed on him, and she raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning. "Who's the kid?" she asked, nodding at Leon. "Looks like he's about to choke on his pie."
Leon sputtered, dropping his skewer.
"I'm Leon," he said, his voice cracking. "Summoned hero, I guess? Healer, mostly. Uh, nice to meet you?" He tried to sound confident, but his face was burning, and he felt like a kid caught staring at his crush.
Saria's eyes flicked between them, her expression unreadable.
"He broke my curse," she said, her tone flat but firm. "He looks like he'd faint at a goblin's glare, but he's got potential. A lot."
Terya's smirk widened, her green eyes sizing Leon up.
"This guy?" she said, her voice dripping with skepticism. "He's the one who got your fire back? Gotta say, I'm not impressed." She leaned closer, her leather vest creaking, and Leon's eyes betrayed him, flicking to her curves before snapping back to her face.
She chuckled, clearly noticing. "Alright, rookie. Let's see what you've got."
Leon's stomach flipped, a mix of nerves and excitement sparking in his chest.
Another cursed warrior?
Another ritual?
He glanced at Saria, whose face remained blank, but her eyes held a warning—focus.
The tavern's chatter resumed, but the air felt heavier now, charged with the weight of Terya's curse and the new challenge it brought.
Leon wasn't sure what was coming, but with Saria's promise to train him and Terya's arrival, he knew his adventure was about to get a lot more complicated—and a lot more interesting.