The victory festival had turned Vaelor's square into a sea of lights and laughter. Iron-forged stalls released smoke from grilled meats, and the air was heavy with the scent of warm bread and spiced wine. Paper lanterns floated like fallen stars, and groups of adventurers sang hoarse songs, clanging their metal mugs. Thorne, his beard unkempt, raised a brimming goblet: "To the Strippers who never die!" Sigrid elbowed him, laughing, while Sven and Gunnar traded war stories, pounding the table until the mugs trembled. Freya, Ylva, and Nora joined in, sharing laughs about our disasters, and Leif, in the corner, murmured blessings to the crowd. Melina, on an improvised stage, strummed her lute with vigor, her voice cutting through the air: "The hero who trips and laughs, the Stripper who conquers the end!" The crowd cheered, and I found myself at the center, a mug in hand, pretending the weight of the previous day didn't exist.
I drank slowly, savoring the relief of victory over Kaelthorn. The festival was a rare respite, with bonfires crackling and dancers spinning to the rhythm of flutes. Elara, beside me, smiled shyly, her eyes glowing under the lantern light. Vespera, holding a mug larger than mine, teased, "Drink more, Takumi, or you'll fall asleep early again." Liriel, leaning against a wall, sipped wine, watching everything with a half-smile. The group felt light—no missions, no debts—at least for this night. But the festival had its price. A group of adventurers, faces flushed with ale, surrounded me, slapping my back. "Takumi, the general-slayer!" shouted one, his beard speckled with foam. "Come on, we've got a surprise for you. Something to really celebrate!" I laughed, confused, but the alcohol and fatigue made me follow. "What is it?" I asked as they dragged me through the crowd, past candy stalls and jugglers.
They led me down narrow alleys, away from the festival lights, to a dark wooden door carved with entwined roses and subtle figures. "What is this place?" I asked, the air shifting to something heavier, thick with incense and sweet perfume. One of the adventurers winked, opening the door: "The Scarlet Rose Brothel. Vaelor's best-kept secret. Come on, hero—it's on us!" My stomach turned. I hadn't known the city had such a brothel hidden in its backstreets. The door opened to a hall lit by red candles, with velvet curtains and cushions scattered in side rooms. Women in tight dresses moved about, laughing softly, and the air was thick with whispers and light touches. "Just a quick look," said the group, pushing me inside. I hesitated, but curiosity won. The place was luxurious—soft carpets, smoking censers. A blonde woman with blue eyes approached, her smile melting the air. "Welcome, hero. I'm Lila. A night with me? Only 50 silver coins." Her tight dress accentuated curves that could make anyone falter, and her perfume was intoxicating. "50 coins? That's expensive," I said, but thought, She's beautiful, maybe worth the risk. My pouch burned with the few coins from the guild, but exhaustion begged for an escape. "Maybe...," I began, when a loud crash echoed through the room.
Vespera burst in like a storm, holding a porcelain vase—an ornate one, probably the madam's pride. "What are you doing here?!" she shouted, eyes blazing with fury. Behind her, Elara and Liriel appeared, faces red with anger and confusion. Lila blinked, stepping back. "Who are you?" Without hesitation, Vespera hurled the vase at her head. The porcelain shattered with a loud crack, and Lila fell, groaning, shards tangled in her hair. "Hey!" I yelled, jumping forward, heart racing. Chaos erupted: clients screamed, women fled to side rooms, and two scarred bodyguards charged in. The madam—a stout woman with black hair tied in a severe bun—appeared at the doorway, her eyes narrowed like blades. "You broke my elven crystal vase! And injured my girl!" she bellowed, pointing at Lila, who stood dazed, touching her forehead. "That's worth 500 coins! And damages to my employee? Another 200!" The hall turned into pandemonium: a woman screamed, another toppled a table, and the sweet perfume mixed with dust and rage. Elara stammered, "We... we were worried! He disappeared during the festival!" Liriel crossed her arms. "Mortals and their stupid escapades." Vespera, breathing hard, muttered, "You... can't go to places like this. Not without... us." The madam folded her arms, unyielding. "Pay, or I call the city guard. And the hero here won't get away." I sighed, knowing this would cost me dearly. I signed a document as a guarantee, promising to pay in installments, and handed over my borrowed staff as collateral—the only valuable thing I owned. "This is going to cost me my life," I thought, walking out with the group under the madam's furious glare and the clients' murmured gossip.
On the street, the cold night air hit me like a slap, clearing the sweet perfume from my head. "Why did you follow me?" I asked, exasperated, my heart still pounding. Elara blushed, looking at her feet: "We were worried… you disappeared at the festival. We thought something bad had happened." Vespera crossed her arms, her face red with anger: "Worried? Or jealous of some blonde trying to drag you to bed?" Liriel snorted, taking a sip of wine: "Mortals and their foolish escapades. You never learn." They were upset, their eyes blazing under the distant festival lanterns, and I realized: they feel something for me. Something real, romantic. It wasn't just friendship or battle loyalty – it was deeper, the kind that makes someone break an expensive vase out of jealousy. I laughed nervously, the sound echoing in the empty alley: "You… feel something for me, don't you? Something beyond friendship." They froze. Elara stammered, cheeks flaming: "I… it's not that! Or… maybe." Vespera looked away, biting her lip: "Maybe I do. So what?" Liriel took another sip, eyes narrowing: "Ridiculous. Mortals and their delusions." But the silence that followed said everything. I sighed, the cold air burning my lungs: "I feel it too. Something. But that brothel thing? It was just curiosity. The guys dragged me there, I didn't even know what it was. I'd never do anything without… you. Without thinking of you." They relaxed a little, the fire in their eyes dimming, but the air was still charged with something electric. Elara murmured: "You're important to us, Takumi. Don't disappear like that." Vespera nodded, voice low: "Don't make me break more vases." Liriel just huffed, but her shoulder brushed mine as we walked. "Let's go to the inn," she said, guiding them through the alley, the festival echoing in the distance like a reminder that life went on, full of debts and surprises.
At the inn, the main hall was empty, the festival outside a distant murmur. The group sat at their usual table, with mugs of water and hard bread – few coins left for luxuries. Elara nudged Vespera's arm: "You went too far with the vase." Vespera laughed, but without humor: "You'd have done the same." Liriel, pouring herself wine, said: "Mortals and their impulses. Pathetic." I watched, chest tight. They were angry, but the jealousy came from somewhere deep – feelings I had ignored, but now seemed obvious. Vespera's kiss that night at the festival flashed in my mind: it wasn't just alcohol or an accident. She must really like me, enough to invade a brothel and smash an expensive vase. I sighed, scratching my neck: "Sorry for scaring you. It was stupid. I just… needed a breather. But you're… all of this." They exchanged glances, the air softening. Elara smiled shyly: "You're our favorite disaster." Vespera winked: "Don't forget it." Liriel took a sip: "Don't do it again." Laughter came, light, and for the first time in days, the inn felt like home.
The break didn't last long. The next day, the guild called us for a simple mission: escort a shipment of supplies to a village on the border, where rumors of "restless shadows" persisted. "Pay your debts," said the clerk, smirking. Liriel grumbled: "Supplies? Unworthy of a goddess!" Elara, gripping her staff, nodded: "Let's do it right this time." Vespera, bow on her shoulder, smiled: "Escort? Sounds relaxing." I tried to sound confident: "Stay together. No mistakes." They exchanged glances, and I knew it was pointless. Lyra insisted on sending a royal guard, Thalira offered an elven talisman, and Elowyn sent druidic herbs for protection. The group set out, with Thorne and Sigrid as reinforcements.
The road was peaceful, with green fields and mild sun. But chaos came quickly. Elara tried a protection spell for the cargo. "Just to avoid problems!" she said. The spell glowed for seconds before she collapsed, panting. "Mana… gone," she groaned, falling into my arms. Her face was so close I felt my heart race. "Takumi, I… I wanted to…" she began, but the spell created an unstable barrier that knocked over a cart. Vespera, trying to help, shot an arrow to "stabilize" it, but missed, hitting a wheel. "What a delicious mess!" she shouted as Thorne covered her. Liriel invoked a light, but the spell ricocheted, burning a rope. "Oops," she said, shrugging. I tried to fix the wheel with my sword but slipped in the mud, crashing down and spilling sacks. Sigrid laughed: "You guys never change!"
The shipment reached the village, but damaged. The villagers, weary-eyed, reported shadows whispering names, as if the Demon King were calling. Ragnar, a local bard with a braided beard and rough voice, sang a legend about the Demon King seeking anchors in mortal worlds. "He uses items like yours," he said, with wise eyes. The group investigated an abandoned cabin, where shadows moved. Elara murmured: "Takumi, have you ever felt… like something's watching us?" Vespera teased: "Getting romantic, Takumi?" Lyra, who insisted on coming, said: "Your presence comforts me, Takumi." Elara blushed, muttering: "Why is she so close to him?" Thalira laughed: "Your group is unique." Elowyn sent a druidic vision, an owl whispering: "The whisper is a call. Close the source." Vespera snorted: "Too many princesses!" Ragnar found a fragment with markings like the ones on the items in my bag, fallen in the cabin. "Curious," he said, handing it to me. When I touched the fragment, it vibrated, knocking down a shelf. Ragnar, irritated, said: "You'll pay for that." The villagers laughed, and Melina sang: "In the village, they strip the cabins, the strippers fall into confusion!" Ragnar grumbled: "You're a plague!"
We returned to the Vaelor guild with the fragment, but the cabin damaged. They paid us 50 coins, discounted for the damage. We paid off the debt with Freya, but Ragnar charged 10 coins for the shelf. At the inn, I sat exhausted, while Elara and Vespera argued over who "messed up less." "I only cast one spell!" Elara said, cheeks red. "And I only shot one arrow!" Vespera retorted, avoiding my gaze. Liriel, drinking wine, mocked: "You're pathetic. I did everything." Elowyn appeared, examined the fragment, and said: "The Demon King's call is a portal. He seeks anchors. Be careful, strippers." Then she left without further explanation. The air grew heavy, with Elara and Vespera trading jealous looks, and Lyra, Thalira, and Elowyn's words only made it worse. "What's going on, Takumi?" Elara asked, her jealousy obvious. Vespera muttered: "Nothing, just spoiled princesses."