[They are lodging at this pce, Master?]

  “Yes, here. The Emberwood Inn.” Viktor snorted. “Apparently, all of our major enemies wind up here.”

  That much was true. Lamia and Azran had stayed here, as had Bjorn and his party. And now, Dagnar and Brynhildr were following suit. Even though it might look like a pattern, the truth was actually very simple. This was the best inn Daelin had to offer, so naturally, anyone with coin to spare would choose it over the other bug-infested holes in the town.

  He stood before the settlement, studying its exterior, and so did Celeste, who was seeing through his eyes. This building had always stood out from the surrounding blocks, but now the owner had decided to take it to even another level. The old wooden sign had been taken down, repced with silver-coated iron. Lanterns filled with high-grade oil from the South burned continuously, regardless of the hour of the day. He had also caught word of the pn to rework the stone steps and install a new door made of fresh-cut oak. It was clear the inn was trying to capitalize on the opportunity his dungeon had created, taking full advantage of the endless stream of newcomers flooding into the town.

  “Let’s go in,” Viktor said. Winter wasn’t quite here yet, but its breath was already seeping into the streets of Daelin. There was no reason to stay outside too long.

  As he opened the door, a wave of warmth immediately rushed out to greet him. Inside, everything was the same as it had been before. A young bard, dressed in colorful garb, stood in the center of the hall, singing and pying his lute, while the crowd feasted, drank, and sang along.

  Cedric and Fiora might be here as well. After all, the boy had told him that they frequently had lunch at this inn, as the girl loved listening to the bard’s music. So he scanned the room, looking for the couple. And when he spotted them, he found them sitting at the same table with—

  Azran!?

  [This is... unexpected.]

  It seemed even Celeste was caught off guard by the development. That was strange, indeed. Two fledgling adventurers, only a few years older than him, sat with a man well into his forties, who was a Gold and a Dungeon Reaver. What could they possibly be talking about?

  [What will you do, Master?]

  Viktor shrugged. “Just walk up and say hi. Why not? They’re all my acquaintances, after all.”

  When Cedric saw him making his way across the hall, the bck-haired boy’s face lit up with a grin. He waved his hand enthusiastically. “Hey, Quinn! Over here!”

  Viktor stopped at their table, fshing a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you all together.”

  “Well,” Cedric said, eyes sparkling, “once I learned from you that he was a Gold-ranked adventurer, I knew I had to talk to him. I mean, how often do you get to see a Gold? So, when I saw him today, I immediately came over with Fiora. We’re hoping he’ll share some stories of his exploits.”

  I see, Viktor thought. It made sense, in a way. However, considering Azran’s actual profession, he highly doubted the bald man would be interested in talking about it. Not to mention, Azran never struck him as the most talkative person.

  He gnced at the Dungeon Reaver, who looked... indifferent. Not upset, not happy, just uninterested. The man leaned back in his chair, hands resting on the edge of his mug, his gaze drifting aimlessly across the room. Viktor couldn’t help but wonder if he even listened to what Cedric said.

  Then he turned to Fiora. The auburn-haired girl had her cheek resting on her hand, elbow on the table, fingers tapping absently as Cedric spoke. Every now and then, she gave a stiff smile whenever the boy looked her way.

  [It seems Cedric is the only one having a good time here.]

  Yeah, Viktor replied. Even though he couldn’t exactly read minds, the situation was pretty clear. For Azran, he was being bothered by two random kids during his drinking time, who asked pointless questions he didn’t care to answer. For Fiora, she was stuck at a table with a stranger triple her age, while her boyfriend barely paid her any attention.

  “Cedric,” Viktor said. “I think your mother is looking for you.”

  The boy’s smile instantly vanished. “She is?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure,” Viktor replied with a shrug. “But I think you should go to the Guild and check, just in case.”

  For a moment, Cedric looked torn between staying and leaving. He gnced toward Fiora, who immediately gave him a firm nod. Viktor didn’t miss the subtle relief in her eyes.

  The bck-haired boy stood from his chair and turned to Azran, offering a slight bow. “Thanks for your time,” he said. “I have to go now, but I hope we get to talk again soon.”

  Azran barely tilted his head in response. Then, Cedric left without dey, with Fiora following close behind. Once the inn’s doors closed behind them, the bald man let out a long, audible sigh. He must have been waiting for them to leave on their own for ages.

  “If you don’t want them around,” Viktor said as he dropped into the seat Cedric had just vacated, “just tell them so.”

  Azran didn’t answer right away. He lifted his mug and took a slow swig of wine. “That would seem... rude.”

  “I thought you had no problem telling people to ‘fuck off.’”

  “That was different.” The bald man snorted. “Besides, a kid like you shouldn’t be using that word.”

  “Then an adult like you shouldn’t say that word in front of a kid.”

  Azran chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. He took another swig. “I thought if I told him one story, he’d be satisfied and leave. But no, he was hungry for more.”

  So you did actually tell him a story? Viktor couldn’t help but suppress a grin. This man was much softer than his appearance suggested. However, that was the wrong approach. If you fed a stray dog once, it would keep coming back. If you didn’t want it to, you had to make it clear from the start.

  “Anyway, what are you doing in Daelin?” he asked. “Are you going to enter the dungeon?”

  Once again, Azran didn’t reply immediately. His gaze wandered across the hall before he finally said, “I... don’t know.”

  Viktor raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

  What does that even mean, Celeste?

  Each time he met Azran, the man felt less and less like a threat. Still, he remained puzzled by his motive. What was he after, exactly? Bjorn’s group believed he was tailing them, waiting for the moment they emerged from the dungeon with the Core, so that he could ambush them and steal it. Was that really his pn? Though Viktor couldn’t confirm if Azran had actually been lurking outside that day, he had to realize by now that Bjorn and the others were not coming back. So why was he still here? Sitting in an inn and drinking all day didn’t make any sense. He should have either given up or left to gather allies for another invasion.

  I don’t get it, Celeste. I don’t see the logic in any of this.

  [Maybe it is not logic that drives his action.]

  Hah. A Dungeon Core suggesting logic isn’t the reason? Now that’s rich.

  [Because humans are not Dungeon Cores, Master. Not everything they do is optimal.]

  True enough. If that were the case, then he might try to look at it from a different angle. What mattered the most to Azran?

  That was...

  Lahmia?

  Yes. From Azran’s reaction the st time Viktor saw him, and from the way Clint had taunted him, it was clear she had been important to the bald man. Maybe romantically, maybe not. Nevertheless, the fact remained that he was devastated by her death. Maybe that was why Viktor couldn’t make sense of Azran’s actions. He couldn’t find out the motive because there was simply no motive. There was no pn, no scheme. Just a broken man who had lost his purpose. He had wandered since, and eventually ended up back here, the pce where she died. To Viktor, that sounded irrational. Pathetic, even. But hey, he knew someone who had tried to kill herself after losing her loved one. In light of that, what Azran did seemed a lot healthier by comparison.

  “I... don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” the bald man muttered, his words coming out slowly. “But whatever it is I’m trying to do, I need a party. And I don’t know if I can get one.”

  Viktor chuckled. “You’re a Gold. Just stand in the Guild hall and shout, ‘Who wants to form a party with me?’ and watch people flock to you.”

  “I can’t do that,” Azran said with a frown. “Besides, I can’t work with people I don’t know.”

  “And how are you supposed to know people if you don’t work with them?”

  “Well,” Azran replied. “At least they should be someone I’ve actually spoken to. And I haven’t talked to any other adventurer here. Clint doesn’t count, of course.”

  “You’ve just talked to two. Yeah, that’s right. Cedric will probably do cartwheels if you offer to join his party,” Viktor said with a grin. On the other hand, Fiora probably wouldn’t be as thrilled.

  “I don’t think it’ll work out,” Azran said, furrowing his brow.

  “How can you know that if you don’t even try? Just give it a shot for a couple of weeks. If it doesn’t suit you, then say your goodbyes and leave.”

  “Are there any other members in that party? If it’s just me and a bunch of kids, it’ll look pretty weird.”

  “There’s another boy around the same age as them, and a gnoll,” Viktor replied. He wasn’t sure how old Noi’ri was, but probably middle-aged in human terms. “If you have an issue with being in the same party as a gnoll, then we’ll need to look for a different option.”

  “A gnoll, huh? A bit unusual, but not really a problem. I might actually get along with him better than with most people.” Azran shrugged. “But how do I approach them? An older man just walking up and asking to join their party... it just seems awkward.”

  “Here’s the trick, you don’t.” Viktor fshed a grin. “I’ll give Cedric the idea to ask you to join his party. Heck, you can even py hard to get. Reject him a couple of times, while I keep telling him not to give up.”

  [You are enjoying this, aren’t you, Master?]

  Of course I am, Viktor replied. He couldn’t wait to see how this drama unfolded.

  Azran narrowed his eyes as he gnced at Viktor. “How old are you?”

  “Twelve. Turning thirteen next week. Why do you ask?”

  “You seem a lot more mature than you look,” the bald man said, turning away as he took a sip from his mug.

  Viktor shrugged. “Many people say that.”

  The bald man didn’t press further.

  The two of them sat in silence. Azran drank quietly, while Viktor leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming on the table to the rhythm of the bard’s song as his eyes drifted across the room. His targets weren’t here yet, but they would be, soon.

  Then came a creak from the stairs, and his gaze snapped in that direction. Two adventurers were descending from the upper floor. A tall, blonde-haired woman in a brown tabard and a sickly-looking young man.

  There they are, Celeste. Those are Dagnar and Brynhildr.