NOVEL NEXT Chapter 385: A Well Deserved Rest
The streets of the upper-mid layer of Carthage were alive with movement.
Ren, Thorn, and Lilith weaved through the crowds beneath the glowing white street orbs, their lights blazing to signal full daylight.
The streets were filled with warmth and activity. Vendors hawked food from steaming carts, couriers darted between shops, and cloaked citizens moved about their day with quiet purpose.
Ren adjusted the strap of his pouch, badge glinting at his chest. "We need rest."
"No argument here," Thorn said, rubbing at his shoulder. "Feels like we haven't slept properly in days."
Lilith gave a tired nod. "Our new badges won't mean anything if we collapse before using them."
They turned down a side street quieter than the main road and approached a modest-looking inn tucked between a bakery and a smithy.
A wooden sign hung over the doorway, swinging slightly in the artificial yet stiff breeze running through the streets.
The faint smell of baked bread mixed with hot metal and spiced tea drifted through the air.
The inn's interior was warm and rustic. Stone beams stretched across the ceiling, and a narrow staircase wound upward to the rooms.
A few patrons sat at round tables eating simple meals. Behind the bar, a small man with thinning gray hair wiped glasses with practiced ease.
But the moment they stepped in, a voice rang out.
"Oi! I said I want another drink, old man!"
A hulking figure sat at the bar, one hand gripping a dented mug, the other waving in irritation.
He was tall, easily a head above most, and broad across the chest, with greasy brown hair and a scraggly beard.
The metal badge hanging from his neck marked him as a Knight, though his armor was in disrepair and his breath stank of alcohol.
The innkeeper didn't look up, just shook his head quietly.
Ren led Lilith and Thorn toward the counter, ignoring the man completely.
"We'll need two rooms," he told the innkeeper, sliding a few coins onto the bar.
The man behind the bar reached for the coins, but the drunk Knight slammed his mug down, spilling liquid.
"You ignoring me?" he snarled, rising to his feet. "Too good to wait your turn, huh?"
Ren didn't turn. "We're tired. Sit back down."
That did it.
The Knight lunged forward, swinging a clumsy right hook at Ren's head.
Before the blow could connect, Ren stepped forward and drove his elbow into the man's sternum.
There was a dull thud as the air left the Knight's lungs. He crumpled to the ground like a sack of flour, groaning.
The room went silent.
The innkeeper blinked, then nodded as if nothing had happened. "Second floor. Keys are on the table."
"Thanks," Ren said, collecting the two small iron keys.
He handed one to Thorn, who was already halfway into a yawn.
"You good?" Ren asked.
"I'll be better when I'm horizontal," Thorn replied.
They climbed the narrow staircase, and before long, were on the second floor of the stone building.
Ren and Lilith took the room at the end of the hall. Thorn peeled off at the first door and disappeared inside without a word.
Inside their room, Ren closed the door and locked it. Lilith moved to the bed without undressing, collapsing onto it and burying her face in the pillow.
Ren smiled faintly, pulled off his coat, and joined her.
Neither of them said anything.
There were no words left.
Only sleep.
The soft hum of the orb light outside filtered faintly through the window.
And finally, silence came. But this time, it was the peaceful kind.
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Ren blinked awake to soft light spilling through the small window, the pale glow of Carthage's orb streetlamps now dimmed to reflect early evening.
The air was warm and still, the thick mountain walls muffling all but the closest sounds.
He stretched, groaning lightly, the ache in his limbs dulled but not gone. His body still hadn't completely recovered from the prison they'd been in, but the rest had helped.
Just as he sat up, the door to the bath creaked open.
Lilith stepped out, a towel wrapped around her body, her pale white hair dripping in rivulets down her back. She looked radiant, cheeks flushed from the steam, her eyes sparkling with calm mischief.
"You're up," she said with a soft smile, stepping closer.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him with a kiss, a warm press of lips that lingered longer than necessary.
Then, she pulled away, gently pressing both palms against his chest and pushing him toward the door she'd just come through.
"Bath. Now. You smell like a dead gang member."
He raised an eyebrow, grinning. "You were fine with it a few hours ago."
"A few hours ago, I smelled the same. Now, my nose is offended." She smirked, turning away and toweling her hair. "Go. I'll wait."
Chuckling to himself, Ren stepped into the small stone-walled bath, steam still clinging to the air. The hot water soaked into his skin, dragging the tension from his bones.
By the time he stepped out and dressed in the clean clothes Lilith had left out, his stomach growled in earnest.
He emerged from the room to find Lilith adjusting the last of her belts and satchels.
They opened the door at the same time as Thorn stepped out from his own room.
"Evening, lovebirds." Thorn said, already buckling on his coat. His face looked refreshed, and his steps lighter.
"You look alive again," Ren said.
"Barely." Thorn patted his stomach. "But I'd kill for a meal."
"Same," Lilith said, stretching.
They made their way down the stairs and into the inn's dining area.
The warm wooden space was empty, eerily so. The fire in the hearth was burning low, and not a single bowl or plate adorned the tables.
Frowning, Ren stepped toward the bar. "Innkeeper?"
His voice echoed oddly in the quiet room.
Then the sound of boots filled the space.
From the shadows between the kitchen doorway and the bar counter, a group of Knights stepped out, at least a dozen, all armed and armored in varying levels of equipment. Their expressions were hard, and their formation too disciplined for coincidence.
At the front stood the tall, broad-shouldered man from hours before. The one Ren had laid out with a single hit.
He grinned, teeth yellow, lips curling in smug triumph.
"Well, well, well." He drawled. "Thought you could humiliate me in my own layer and get away with it, huh? I'm back for payback."
Ren sighed, hands slipping into his coat pockets. "You again."
The man raised his hand, and the other Knights tensed.
Before anything else could happen, Ren raised his voice. "Before you do something stupid, let me explain why you should stay as far away from us as possible."
The group hesitated, each one wondering what he was trying to say.
"A few days ago, we were at the district office. We were attacked." He said in a bored tone of voice. "Not by random thugs. By mercenaries. We fought them. Killed them. Destroyed part of the building doing it."
The drunk Knight's smirk faded, replaced with a flicker of confusion.
Ren stepped forward. "And because of that, the soldiers of Carthage are now watching us. Closely. You lay a hand on us, and they'll think your gang is involved."
Some of the Knights began shifting uncomfortably. No one wanted to be under the radar of the Carthage military.
"Prove it." One of them barked. "We've heard stories, sure. But you could just be talkin' big."
Ren narrowed his eyes.
"Then I hope you're ready to see proof."