Valeria’s mind wandered as she debated over the simple act of buying a meal, and without warning, his face—Lucavion’s—flashed in her thoughts. That irritating grin, his mocking tone, the way he had teased her as if her every concern was just some grand joke to him.
‘Why him of all people?’ she thought, her irritation bubbling up again. His smug face seemed to haunt her at the most inconvenient times, and the fact that he had somehow wormed his way into her thoughts made it even worse.
She clicked her tongue in annoyance, her footsteps picking up pace. ‘Why am I even thinking about him? Of all things right now…’
Her fists clenched at her sides as she imagined that smirk of his, the one that made it seem like he had everything figured out, like her struggles were nothing compared to the carefree way he seemed to live his life. She hated it.
Before she even realized it, her feet had carried her to the entrance of an inn. Without thinking further, she pushed open the door with more force than necessary and stormed inside, her mood fouler than ever.
But then, the moment Valeria stepped inside, the rich, fragrant aroma of meat and stew hit her like a wave. The blend of spices, slow-cooked vegetables, and savory broth filled the air, and all at once, the anger that had been simmering inside her vanished. Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her of just how hungry she was.
‘Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all,’ she thought, feeling a sense of relief as her mouth watered in anticipation.
She walked over to the counter, still slightly on edge from her previous irritation but now more focused on the delicious smells. The innkeeper, a friendly-looking woman with a warm smile, greeted her with a nod.
“What can I get for you, miss?” the woman asked.
Valeria glanced at the menu briefly, though she already knew what she wanted. “A bowl of stew, please,” she said, her voice more controlled now that her mood had improved. “And a juice.”
The innkeeper raised an eyebrow, clearly a little surprised by the choice. “No drinkin’ today, lass? You look old enough to handle a pint.”
Valeria shook her head firmly. “No, thank you. Just the juice.”
The woman gave her a curious look but didn’t press the matter. Instead, she gestured to the dining area. “Take a seat wherever you like. Your order’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Valeria nodded and found a quiet corner near the window. As she sat down, she could feel the tension draining from her shoulders, the warmth of the inn and the prospect of a good meal finally settling her nerves. She couldn’t help but smile a little as the smell of the stew continued to fill the room.
As Valeria settled into her seat by the window, she let her gaze wander across the bustling inn. The warm, golden light from the lanterns cast a soft glow over the tables, creating a cozy atmosphere despite the lively hum of conversation. She leaned back slightly, relaxing as she took in her surroundings.
There were a few couples seated together, quietly enjoying their meals, but most of the patrons were Awakened—warriors, mages, and mercenaries, all gathered in the city for the upcoming tournament. Some were deep in conversation, discussing strategies or past battles, while others simply ate in silence, focused on the challenges that lay ahead.
Valeria’s eyes were drawn to a group seated near the far corner. They wore matching dark-green robes with a distinct crest embroidered on the chest, marking them as members of the same sect. They seemed disciplined, their postures upright and their movements efficient, even as they ate.
‘A sect,’ she thought, observing them with interest. She had heard of various sects traveling from all corners of the empire to take part in these kinds of tournaments. Each had their own style of combat, their own beliefs, and their own way of life.
It was fascinating to think about how they compared to her own upbringing as a knight, where honor, discipline, and loyalty were paramount.
As her gaze continued to drift, she noticed another group, this one more eclectic in appearance. They weren’t dressed in matching robes, but their auras marked them as powerful. One of them, a tall man with a massive axe strapped to his back, looked particularly formidable, while the others had weapons of various kinds—swords, spears, and even a bow resting by one woman’s side.
Mercenaries, most likely. Their loud voices and easy laughter filled the space around them.
Valeria’s thoughts returned to the tournament. These were her competitors, the people she’d be up against in the coming days. She would need to stay sharp, to trust her skills, and prove herself not just to her family, but to herself as well.
As she pondered her next steps, the innkeeper approached with her order. “Here ya go, lass. One bowl of stew and your juice. Enjoy!”
Valeria nodded gratefully, her mouth already watering at the sight of the steaming bowl before her. As she picked up the spoon and took her first bite, the rich flavors hit her immediately, filling her with warmth and comfort.
Just as Valeria was about to savor another bite of her stew, the door to the inn burst open with a gust of cool evening air. A group of girls, all dressed in matching robes of deep blue, entered, their voices lively and filled with laughter. They moved as one unit, clearly familiar with each other’s company, and the energy they brought with them was palpable.
Valeria immediately noticed the similarity in their attire, the same deep blue robes embroidered with intricate golden patterns along the hems. They all wore a crest on their chests—another sect. The way they carried themselves, confident and synchronized, left little doubt that they were well-trained.
The youngest among them couldn’t have been much older than Valeria herself, while a few looked slightly older, perhaps in their early twenties.
“Senior Sister, you were amazing today!” one of the younger girls exclaimed, her voice carrying across the inn as they headed for an empty table near the center.
“Yes, Senior Sister, your technique was flawless! I don’t know how you made it look so easy!” another chimed in, her admiration evident as she practically bounced alongside her older companion.
The “Senior Sister” they were referring to walked with an air of quiet confidence. She had a composed expression, her dark hair tied into a neat bun, and her robe was slightly more ornate than the others, indicating her rank within their sect. Despite her juniors’ loud praises, she carried herself with the calm, disciplined demeanor of someone who was used to such admiration.
Valeria’s eyes narrowed slightly as she observed them, her spoon hovering just above her stew. The energy the group brought into the inn was unmistakable—competitive, youthful, and ambitious. She could tell they were here for the same reason as most others in the city: the tournament.
At the same time, her instincts, honed from years of training and combat, flared as she continued to watch the group of girls. Something about them felt… familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it.
Their robes, the way they carried themselves—it tugged at her memory, but the connection remained elusive. Her eyes lingered on the “Senior Sister,” the one who seemed to command the respect of her juniors with ease. There was something about her presence that set Valeria on edge.
‘Who is she?’ Valeria thought, her gaze sharpening. The way the girl moved, how effortlessly she commanded the attention of those around her—it felt like more than just natural confidence. It was something deeper, something dangerous, though Valeria couldn’t be sure why she felt this way.
She returned to her meal, though her thoughts remained distracted. Her instincts rarely betrayed her, and they were telling her now that this “Senior Sister” was someone to be wary of. But there was no hard evidence, just a feeling that gnawed at the back of her mind.
As Valeria pondered this, the door to the inn opened again, and another group entered. This time, it was a group of boys, their steps measured, their presence quiet but commanding. They moved with the kind of grace and poise that only came from noble upbringing, each one exuding an air of calm confidence. Their attire was simple but finely made, the quality of the fabric speaking to their status.
Valeria watched them enter, her gaze flicking from one to the other. The room, once filled with the lively chatter of the girls, suddenly grew quieter. The girls from the sect, who had just been laughing and talking, immediately turned their attention to the boys as they entered. The “Senior Sister” remained composed, but Valeria noticed the way her eyes sharpened, just barely.
Tension began to fill the room, subtle but unmistakable.
The boys took a seat at a nearby table, their movements deliberate. But then, one of them, a tall boy with dark hair and a sharp jawline, sneered. It wasn’t a loud sound, more of a quiet mockery, but it cut through the now-silent atmosphere like a blade.
The girls exchanged glances, and one of the younger ones, clearly more hotheaded, turned in her seat, her eyes narrowing at the boy. “Who are you sneering at?” she demanded, her voice carrying just enough of a bite to draw attention.
The tension spiked immediately.
Valeria’s gaze shifted between the two groups, her instincts flaring again. Whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t going to end with just words.
The boy who had sneered leaned back in his chair, his expression still mocking as his eyes lazily swept over the group of girls. “Just observing,” he said, his tone casual, but there was a clear disdain in his voice. “Didn’t realize that [Cloud Heavens Sect] was sending children to the tournament this year.”
And the moment Valeria heard the name, her ears immediately perked up.
Cloud Heavens Sect was a famous sect, after all.
