Rebirth Of The Bastard Spirit Summoner

"I hear they sell the best noodles in this town. Let's grab a meal, you can tell me what's bothering you as we eat."

Jasmine glanced at the stall and nodded. "T-that sounds great," she said, her nervousness slowly fading away.

They both walked to the restaurant and took a seat at a table all to themselves.

The restaurant itself was small, just a little shack that had very little room. But arranged in front of the shack were a number of chairs, with a wooden structure in the shape of an umbrella hanging above it just in case it rained.

Immediately they sat down, the waiter walked up to them with a notepad in hand and a friendly smile on his face.

"What will the couple be having this beautiful evening?"

Jasmine's face grew a shade darker as she remembered her earlier mishap, but seeing that Stark made no move to correct the waiter, she said nothing.

"Noodles for both of us, your special full-option bowls. Oh, and a bottle of wine for me," Stark replied, dropping the menu.

He turned to Jasmine. "But that is if it's okay with you? Nothing cheers someone up better than a big bowl of noodles, trust me."

'Cheers up?' Jasmine thought. 'Was I being that obvious?'

Realising that she had not answered, she quickly spoke. "S-sure, I'll try the noodles."

The waiter wrote everything down and smiled. "And what will you be drinking?"

She would have loved to have wine as well, something that would help her loosen her tongue and open up, but she had not planned this outing.

The only money she had was a few silver coins that she always kept in her pockets.

"Water, water is fine—"

Click!

Stark gently placed his hand on the table, a clicking sound coming from underneath it. When he removed his hand, both she and the waiter were surprised as they saw a stack of silver coins underneath his fingers.

He leaned back into his chair and stared at her, his grey eyes boring into hers. "Water? Nonsense, this is my treat."

"N-no, I can't possibly have you pay. I was the one that invited you out—"

"Don't argue, just go with the flow." The waiter cut in and suddenly scooped the coins off the table.

For fear of offending both Stark and the waiter, Jasmine sighed defeatedly. "Wine, I'll have wine then."

Shortly after, the waiter arrived with a steaming bowl of noodles, two bottles of wine, as well as two glasses.

The aroma of the food alone caused Jasmine to swallow, and the presentation was even better.

There were countless garnishings to the noodles—a colourful mix of vegetables, meat, as well as a whole egg.

"Go on, try it," Stark said, watching her with a curious gaze.

She nodded and picked up her fork. When she cut the egg in half, the watery yolk ran over the noodles and she scooped it up along with some noodles into her mouth.

"Mmmm—er—sorry, forgive my manners."

Stark chuckled, making her blush more from embarrassment.

The food had been so delicious that she could not control herself. The noodles seemed to melt in her mouth, bringing with them an explosion of flavour that made her insides tingle.

The meat was tender, perfectly cooked to the point that it was thoroughly done, and the vegetables were perfectly spiced.

It was like a miracle food that she could not get enough of. Soon, the entire thing was gone from her plate.

And then she went for the wine next.

One glass, two, three—then she stopped, already feeling a tingling sensation in her head.

Stark had also finished eating as well and was on his seventh glass, yet he did not seem the least bit affected by the drink.

If anything, he seemed more assertive the more he drank.

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers.

Immediately the question came, everything she had been feeling that night before meeting him came all at once, the emotions swelling within her chest and exploding in the form of tears.

Her eyes moistened and crystal drops began to descend before she even knew it, her frustration too much to bear.

She tried to wipe her eyes, but the more she did, the more she cried like a child.

"S-stoopid aaa-alcohol," she stuttered, unable to control herself.

Stark handed her a tissue.

"I'm sorry I'm like this, I've just been under a lot of stress of late…" she said in between sobs, the tissue pressed against her face.

"I must look like a baby to you…"

Stark slowly shook his head as he stared at his wine glass. "Everyone cries at a point in their life. It's how they choose to move forward afterwards that determines if they were mature or not."

He paused for a short moment, allowing her tears to settle a little before he continued.

"So are you going to make me ask again? What is the problem?" Although his words sounded emotionless, Jasmine could tell his concern from the way he looked at her.

He had expressive eyes, and from watching them, you could tell far more than from looking at his face alone.

The way his eyes would tremble whenever she sobbed, or the way they would soften at her words.

Jasmine went on to tell him everything that had happened. The things she wanted to say, and then the things she was unwilling to share, she ended up blurting out like a fool.

It was the effect of those eyes that silently questioned her, those smooth words that aimed at probing her.

At the end of it, Stark ended up knowing far too much about her.

Her status as a noble, who her mother was, and even some of her connections.

But even with her wealthy background, he didn't seem to be fazed one bit.

He took a long minute to ponder on all she had said, not in a hurry to rush into speaking.

And then he sipped from his glass and placed it on the table. "Conviction."

"Conviction?" Jasmine asked, her words slurred from the alcohol.

"Do you know what conviction is, Jas?"

Jasmine was confused by his question. She knew what conviction was, but she shook her head. 'I want to know his definition of conviction.'

He pulled out his dagger from his sheath and placed it on the table, the dark blue metal gleaming like a precious gem.

Then he traced his finger through the cold steel. "Touch it."

Jasmine placed her hands on it as well. It was cold to the touch and incredibly smooth.

"Did you feel that?"

She glanced to the side, unsure of what to say. She could not understand what he wanted her to feel.

"Is it smooth?" she asked. She had a blank look on her face, half expecting to be called dumb, but to her surprise, Stark smiled.

"Yes, it is smooth." He chuckled. "Sorry if this seems weird, it's the only way I can explain it."

"How do you think a dagger is formed? It starts off as a lumpy rock, completely worthless at first sight."

"But after hours of heating and thousands of hits, at the end of the day it comes out like this."

Then he looked at her, his grey eyes boring into hers.

"Conviction is the driving force of change."

"Are you saying… what I lack is conviction?" Jasmine asked, her gaze locked on the table and fresh tears forming in her eyes.

She had spent hours training, and even more studying. She had gone through hell in the entrance exams just to be admitted.

How could someone like her not have conviction? How else was she meant to do it?

Stark shook his head. "I did not say that, I don't doubt that you have conviction. But think about it like this."

"You are a special case, aren't you? You are average while everyone surrounding you is some sort of prodigy."

'Average?' His words stung, but she knew that he was right.

"The world has never been fair, Jasmine. To meet up with your peers, you must demonstrate a certain kind of madness that others don't have."

"Studying for hours? Everyone does that. Training for a few hours? Everyone does that. You must do what others are unwilling to do if you want to stand a chance at the academy."

He closed his eyes and let out a breath.

"Imagine yourself stuck at the bottom of the ocean, out of air and seconds away from dying. Imagine the water rushing into your lungs too fast for you to react."

"That feeling of wanting air, that frustration you feel at the bottom, that maddening drive to swim to the top—that is how I feel about my goals."

"If you can have just a fraction of that, then I'm sure your beast will come to accept you."

When Stark finished, Jasmine's eyes widened slightly, her eyes glistening from both tears and realisation.

Then she took the bottle of wine and drank straight from it, her mind set on what she was to do, on what must be done.

She had to understand his version of conviction, and there was only one way to do so…