The Chronicles of Leafshade [Isekai/LitRPG]

I'd hoped for a quiet lunch with Orin. Just the two of us, maybe even a moment to breathe.

Instead, Instructor Vallen hijacked the whole thing, dragging the rest of the survivors in: Riven Greenthorn, Fenric Mirelthas, Alton Broiner, and Sable Thornveil.

Apparently, this was the "important thing" she'd wanted to tell us. She was buying lunch.

Why she looked so deadly serious while saying it? No idea.

Then again, Vallen always had a… unique delivery.

The meal wasn't just to celebrate my win. It was for the ones who didn't come back.

Two druids from our team had died in the Tower.

Calen, who never shut up about baked honeyroot. And Pica, who was usually quiet but always smiling and kind.

I didn't ask who set the two empty seats at the table. But I noticed them.

Orin had managed to join another team of barbarian and elf, while the rest had formed a single party. Though they had only ventured around the Safe Zone, the Tower had still proven too brutal for them.

Death wasn't something special to adventurers.

We had all been trained with the understanding that our fate could end at any moment. As citizens of Asterion Kingdom, it was our duty to enter the Tower of Ascension. We were required to meet the minimum exploration quota, all while gathering Mana Stones to pay off the hefty annual tax.

But for now, we weren't focused on loss or duty. We celebrated. For us, the ones who had made it back safely.

"Cheers!" Instructor Vallen raised her glass, looking far more relaxed and cheerful than usual. "And enough with the 'instructor' nonsense! Just call me Vallen. It's not like we're that far apart in age."

Maybe for druids, the age gap wasn't much, but for humans? Yeah, no. I wisely kept that thought to myself.

"Erynd, teach me how to be strong like you!" Fenric suddenly blurted out, eyes full of determination.

"Maybe start by not crying so much," Sable teased, taking a sip of her drink.

"You were crying too, back at the end of the duel!" Fenric shot back. "I saw you wiping your eyes!"

Sable scoffed. "It was dust. Dramatic dust."

Before I could say anything, Vallen, who was already half-drunk, suddenly leaned in, her face turning dead serious.

"Hey, Eryn…" she murmured. The mood shifted instantly. The air grew tense. Everyone fell silent.

"I'm actually… really disappointed in you."

My stomach dropped. "W-what?"

Vallen sighed, shaking her head. Then, with the same grave expression, she continued, "You should've smashed that bastard's head in a few more times. Once wasn't enough."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Fenric choked on his drink. Alton spat his out. Sable snorted. Riven wheezed.

Then we burst into laughter.

And just like that, the tension melted away, replaced by the sound of clinking glasses and cheerful voices.

We spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying our food, laughing, and forgetting about the dangers of the Tower, just for a little while.

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***

Vallen and the others had already Rifted back to Willow's End, but I had a few errands left in town.

Orin, of course, decided my errands were now our errands.

"I need to stop by a shop nearby. They sell rare monster materials!" she beamed, skipping beside me before I could object. "Don't worry, I won't slow you down!"

She did.

Still, I didn't tell her to leave.

We walked in silence through cobbled streets and shouting vendors until she slowed near an alley.

"E-Eryndor…" Orin was fidgeting, her face flushed red. "Th-thank you," she stammered. "For standing up for me earlier."

I blinked, caught completely off guard.

For some reason, hearing her say it so directly made me feel… weird.

"A-Ah…" I rubbed the back of my neck, looking anywhere but at her. "I've, uh… been meaning to teach those guys a lesson anyway."

Why the hell was I stammering?

"But, you know…" I added quickly, "druids look out for each other. That's just how it is."

"Mm." She nodded softly behind me.

I cleared my throat and waved a hand. "Come on. We've got things to do."

***

Since the Mana Stones I earned were barely enough to cover the essentials for my next expedition, I had to make a tough choice.

At first, I considered selling the Ooborosk Soul Fragment. It would've fetched a small fortune. But after my victory, I changed my mind.

I have another plan for the Soul Fragment.

Storm Breaker, on the other hand? It would fetch a great price. And that would be more than enough to fund my next exploration.

The shopkeeper, a stocky old dwarf with soot-stained gloves and a decorative eye patch, inspected my hammer with a grunt.

"Decent shape," he said. "28,000 Mana Stones."

"The shop next door offered more," I argued.

"Then sell it there." He turned away.

Before I could respond, Orin stepped up.

"Come on, old man. You know it's worth more. And if you don't deal fairly, we're not buying these equipment either."

That got his attention.

He sighed, eye twitching. "Fine. 29,000. But no discounts on the robe."

"Deal!" Orin grinned.

I stared at her, half-impressed and half-in-disbelief, and she winked back.

As we walked out, she shoved the robe into my arms.

Orin hesitated before mumbling under her breath, "I-It's for you."

"…What?"

"The robe," she said, avoiding my gaze. "Consider it… a thank-you gift. For sticking up for me." She turned before I could respond.

Leafweaver Robe.

Enchanted leaves and silk that boosts wind magic and magic resistance. Worth 800 Mana Stones, a ridiculous amount for a beginner.

I glanced down at my old robe: frayed sleeves, patched collar, two holes I'd been pretending didn't exist.

"…Thanks," I muttered, unsure what else to say.

She didn't answer, but I caught the smile before she looked away.

We spent the rest of the evening browsing through various shops, upgrading our equipment, and purchasing a generous supply of ingredients for potion-making. Orin spent way too long bargaining for two Maurudor Fangs before finally paying, grinning like she'd outsmarted the universe.

"You realize we just spent half an hour arguing over two stones, right?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, but it was totally worth it," she replied with mock solemnity. "It's about the hustle."

By the time we were done, the sky had already turned a deep shade of twilight, and the streets were illuminated by the soft glow of Mana lanterns.

At the crossroads, Orin paused, facing the path back to the druids' land. Her steps slowed. She looked like she might say something else, but didn't.

"You okay?" I asked, glancing at her.

She hesitated, then shook her head lightly. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

"About tomorrow?"

She gave a small smile. "Yeah. I guess I'll see you then."

I nodded. "Yeah. Get some rest. Don't stay up overthinking everything again."

She laughed softly. "No promises." Then she turned, the mist beginning to wrap around her as she walked away.

"Hey, Orin," I called after her.

She stopped and looked back.

"You'll do fine. I mean it."

Her smile widened just a little. "Thanks. Goodnight, Eryndor."

"Night."

She vanished into the mist, footsteps fading.

I turned the other way.

There was one last place I needed to go before the night ended.

A promise to keep.

And someone waiting on the other end of it.