[CEDRIC ASHVALE POV]
I woke before dawn—if what I'd endured could even be called sleep.
It wasn't that I was too disciplined, no, normally waking up early to train was like second nature to me, completely instinctual and effortless. But this time, it was different… this time it was because the smell finally won.
How was it possible for someone to actually live in this?
The room at The Iron Acorn had seemed tolerable the night before, warm, lived-in and acceptable, but the morning had revealed the truth.
The floorboards creaked and were soaked with something that smelled faintly of ale and old puke; the window panes were streaked and clouded, while a black, unidentifiable gunk clung stubbornly to the entire frame, and the pillow had clearly seen more guests than it had ever been washed for, and the bed....
Well, the less said about the bed, the better for everyone.
I stood up as I turned my face away from that sight.
Do not react, I reminded myself
One must learn to adjust oneself to one's circumstances.
I looked at the spotted mirror in front of me as I composed my face into a mask of noble dignity, but instead, what stared back at me was something closer to carved stone.
Even nobility has its limits!
Refusing to dwell on the state of the room, I got dressed quickly, and reached for the satchel etched with faintly glowing runes.
I called softly," Felix"
"You awake?"
The bag shifted as I felt my mana reserves start to drain.
RRRRrrrrrrr-
A low growl came from within.
Well, he sure is awake now.
I picked up the bag and looked inside to see Felix curled tightly by his tail and his green eyes shining.
"Hope you're ready for the hunt today?"
My words sounded like a question instead of a statement.
No response, he just glared at me.
So I continued to fill the awkward silence by myself.
"Well, no need to be nervous, I will be right by your side, nothing will happen to you."
Still nothing.
I signed.
"Let's go downstairs; Rowan must already be waiting"
I closed the satchel partway and left the trash heap of a room behind, heading down the stairs without a backward glance.
As I made my way to the common area of The Iron Acorn, I immediately noticed the difference; unlike yesterday, there were only a handful of patrons at the tables today—day wage hands by the look of them, and with noticeably fewer barmaids moving through the tables.
Rowan sat alone at the central table.
He had dragged one chair back and was lounging sideways in it, boots hooked around the legs of another, arms crossed loosely over his chest. His spear leaned against the table within easy reach, like an extension of his body rather than a weapon he carried. He looked entirely too relaxed for someone about to enter a dungeon.
When he spotted me, his grin widened.
"Well, look who survived the night," Rowan commented cheerfully.
"Had a nice morning, Your Grace?"
I ignored the title and took the seat opposite him, setting the satchel carefully at my feet.
"Nothing I couldn't manage"
He laughed.
"Oh, come on! you look like a man who stared into the abyss and found it staring back—through a stained pillow."
I shot him a look.
"I am just completely…"
"Fine", Rowan finished
"You nobles with your etiquette are really something else. But still, you should've seen your face when you came down those stairs. Stone statue. Absolute masterpiece."
"I assure you," my voice an octave colder than usual, "my expression was perfectly neutral."
Rowan leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
"Cedric. You know the barmaid flinched when she looked at you."
I opened my mouth to respond when a familiar voice cut in.
"Food's almost ready," Tania called from behind the kitchen counter.
"Sit tight, boys."
She moved with practised ease, setting plates and bowls onto a tray while swatting at Rowan with a dishcloth as she passed.
"Oi," Rowan protested. "Abusing me already? And here I was thinking you liked me."
"And I like customers who pay and don't bleed on the floor and start fighting in my bar every time," Tania shot back. "You're on thin ice."
Rowan placed a hand over his heart. "So cruel. You're breaking the heart of your most loyal customer"
She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself and disappeared into the kitchen again.
I watched the exchange quietly.
Rowan followed my gaze and smirked. "She's fond of me."
"More like I tolerate you like a stray at my bar," came a voice from the kitchen
"It's the same thing.", Rowan hollered
I shook my head as I glanced down.
The satchel moved as Felix shifted inside, but didn't come out.
Rowan noticed immediately. "He's awake?"
"Yes, grumpy as always"
"Good," Rowan said.
"Means he's alive."
"That was never in question."
I snapped.
Rowan raised an eyebrow.
"Sure, it was. Just not to you."
I didn't respond to that.
Tania returned a moment later, balancing the tray easily. She set a bowl of thick stew in front of Rowan, followed by a plate piled with bread, eggs, and cured meat in front of me. Steam rose immediately, carrying the scent of herbs and slow-cooked stock.
I paused.
"…this smells," I began cautiously.
"Careful."
"…surprisingly good," I finished.
Tania smirked.
"High praise, coming from someone who looks like he eats off silver plates."
"I assure you, I—" I stopped myself and dropped the noble tone.
"It looks very tasty. Thank you."
She nodded once, satisfied.
"You'll need all your strength; the dungeon doesn't care if you're hungry."
And with that, she moved off to another table, already barking at another patron to pay up or leave.
Rowan dug in immediately, tearing bread apart and dunking it into the stew.
"Told you this place wasn't all bad."
"I never said that it was bad."
I took a bite—and froze.
Rowan watched me with a casual gaze.
"So… how is it?"
I chewed slowly.
It was good. Rich, hearty, properly seasoned. Not at all the kind of food I would expect from a place where the floor tried to dissolve your boots.
"It's good"
Rowan burst out laughing.
"Hahahahah! Someone write it down. The Iron Acorn has been granted praise from nobility."
I shot him a glare. "Must you narrate everything?"
"Yes, it's a gift."
As we ate, Rowan nodded toward the satchel again.
"He is not eating?"
"No,"
"Not hungry? He is going to need power to hunt"
"Not like that, he's not able to eat right now"
That caught Rowan's attention; he paused mid-bite.
"Explain."
I glanced down briefly, ensuring Felix remained quiet, then lowered my voice.
"His body development is… unfinished. As you know, usually when wyverns hatch, their first meal is their own egg shell and awaken, but during the ritual, the egg exploded into pieces and he…we fainted, so he wasn't able to consume the shell's vital energy, and so he isn't able to consume anything else until he supplements it."
"But how is he going to hunt if he doesn't have the power?"
"Wyverns at this stage are more mana than substance; they need mana to even move, and right now, most of his energy comes from —," I hesitated, "from me."
Rowan whistled softly. "So that's why you looked half-dead yesterday."
"I was fine."
"You nearly fell over."
"Momentary imbalance."
"Uh-huh."
I continued, ignoring him.
"Digesting physical food would strain his system unnecessarily, causing me to supply more mana, and the result would not equal the cost"
"And later?"
"Later," I said quietly, "after he eats his first fresh core, he probably would be able to sustain himself without dying and be able to hunt with a little less mana from me and eventually he'll be able to eat, not just cores, beasts, foods, and mana-dense materials that would kill anything else."
Rowan's grin returned, slower this time.
"That's my boy."
I stiffened slightly. "He is not—"
"—yours?" Rowan finished as he smiled.
I didn't answer.
Felix shifted again in the satchel, a faint huff escaping.
Rowan noticed. "He doesn't like being talked about."
"No," I agreed. "He doesn't."
Rowan finished his stew and pushed the bowl aside. "Good. Means he's got opinions. Beasts without opinions die fast."
I looked down at the satchel again, fingers tightening briefly around my fork.
Tania passed by again, refilling mugs, so Rowan leaned back and waved her over.
"So," he said casually, "how many rats used to live in Cedric's room?"
I choked on my food.
Tania burst out laughing. "Oh? That bad?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"You two are enjoying this far too much."
"Oh, absolutely," Tania said.
"We don't get nobles slumming it often. It's refreshing."
Rowan leaned closer to me.
"So tell me. Did the pillow try to bite?"
"I will leave you both here," I warned.
"Promises, promises,"
And somehow, despite myself, I felt the anxiety ease—just a little.
"Eat, the dungeon is waiting."
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AN: What did you guys think of the chapter? Comment, review, and gift power stones.