Eldritch Assassin: Reincarnated With An SSS-Rank Devouring System
Chapter 38: Green Leaf Inn

Chapter 38: Green Leaf Inn

~Creak~Creak~

The night was quiet, broken only by the rhythmic creak of wooden wheels and the soft clop of hooves. A caravan rolled through the shadowed forest, its lanterns casting flickering light on the rough trees.

The Green Leaf Inn came into view, a sturdy two-story building with warm moonlight spilling from its windows, a resting spot for weary travelers.

Adventurers, mercenaries, and dungeon challengers milled about, their cloaks dusty, their weapons glinting in the moonlight. The caravan slowed, stopping in front of the inn’s weathered sign.

Two figures stepped down, their cloaks heavy with the grime of travel. Kael adjusted his hood, the Abyssal Fang Dagger hidden beneath his coat. Sera followed, her bow slung across her back, her eyes still carrying the hollow ache of loss.

Kael handed the driver a handful of bronze coins, the metal clinking softly. The driver nodded with a smile, urging the horses forward as the caravan rumbled away.

Inside, the inn buzzed with life. Rough laughter and the clink of tankards filled the air, mingled with the scent of roasted meat and stale ale.

Cloaked figures conversing in a mixed high-low tone crowded the tables, their faces shadowed to hide their identity or to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Kael and Sera’s entrance drew no stares as hooded travelers were a common sight here. They weaved through the crowd, boots thudding on the worn wooden floor, and approached the counter.

A young woman with braided hair smiled from behind the counter, her eyes bright despite the late hour. "Welcome to the Green Leaf," she said, her voice warm. "Rooms or just food?"

Kael leaned forward, keeping his voice low. "Two rooms, if you’ve got them."

The receptionist’s smile faltered slightly. "Sorry, we’re packed tonight. Only two-bedded rooms are left—double bed with clean linens."

Kael paused, his silver eyes flicking to Sera. Sharing a room with a girl wasn’t ideal, especially not after everything. He opened his mouth, but Sera spoke first, her voice steady despite the fatigue in her posture. "That’s fine. We’ll take it."

The receptionist nodded, sliding a key across the counter. "Upstairs, third door on the right. Dinner’s still being served if you’re hungry."

Kael handed over more bronze coins, the exchange was quick and quiet. He glanced at Sera, who met his gaze with a small nod. They climbed the creaky stairs, the noise of the common room fading behind them.

The room was small but tidy, with two narrow beds, a washbasin, and a single lantern casting a soft glow. Kael set his gear by the door, his cloak dripping dirt onto the floor. Sera unslung her bow, placing it carefully against the wall.

They took turns at the washbasin, scrubbing off blood and grime. Kael splashed cold water on his face, the cuts on his arms stinging but healing slowly thanks to his bloodline. Sera wiped her hands, her movements mechanical, her eyes distant.

They changed into spare clothes from their packs—simple tunics and trousers, less conspicuous than their battle-worn gear—and headed back downstairs.

The common room was louder now, a bard strumming a lute in the corner, his voice rough but lively. Kael and Sera found a table near the back, away from the rowdiest groups.

A serving girl dropped off two plates of steaming stew, chunks of bread, and tankards of watered ale. Kael pushed his hood back slightly, his silver eyes scanning the room out of habit. Sera stared at her plate, her fingers tracing the edge of her tankard.

Kael broke the silence, his voice soft. "You never talked much since we left the dungeon. Why don’t you tell me more about your family? You and Mira... you were very close, weren’t you?"

Sera’s fingers stilled, her eyes dropping to the stew. She took a slow breath, her voice quiet. "We were orphans by five. Our parents were Knights of Mistvale Barony. They died in the Battle of Ashridge—cut down by soldiers of the Dravalia Kingdom. After that, it was just me and Mira. We learned to survive. Stole what we needed, and fought when we had to." Her lips twitched, a ghost of a smile appearing in the briefest of time. "Mira was always better than me with a bow. She was perfect at everything."

Kael nodded, his gaze steady. He saw the pain in her eyes, the weight of loss pulling at her. He leaned forward, keeping his tone light. "You know when I was a kid, I thought I could outsmart a butcher. I snuck out of the manor and into his shop to grab a sausage. Tripped over a bucket and knocked over a whole rack of meat. He chased me three streets, waving a cleaver." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Still got the sausage, though."

Sera’s eyes flicked up, a faint spark of amusement breaking through her grief. "You’re an idiot," she said, but her lips curved slightly.

Kael grinned, leaning back. "Oh, it gets worse. Once tried to impress a girl by climbing a tree. Picked the rotten one. Fell flat on my back, right in front of her. She laughed so hard she cried." He took a sip of ale, his eyes glinting. "Learned to check the branches after that."

Sera snorted, picking up her bread and tearing off a piece. "You’re hopeless." Her voice was softer now, the tension in her shoulders easing. She dipped the bread in her stew, taking a small bite.

Kael watched her, his grin fading into something warmer. He set his tankard down, his tone serious but gentle. "You’re good, Sera. Stronger than most your age. I’ve got a place for you to stay—the Veyne Mansion. It’s not as grand as other Estates but it’s safe. Come with me and be my Knight. We’ll watch each other’s backs."

Sera paused mid-bite, her eyes searching his. Doubt flickered, then faded. "You’re serious," she said, not a question.

"Dead serious," Kael replied, leaning forward. "You’ve got fire—literally. I need someone like you. We’re not done with people like Dorian. You want justice for Mira? We’ll get it together."

She looked down at her plate, her fingers tightening around the bread. The common room’s noise faded the bard’s song a distant hum. After a long moment, she nodded, her voice firm. "Alright. I’m in."

Kael’s grin returned, and he raised his tankard. "To new beginnings, then."

Sera lifted hers, clinking it against his. "To Mira," she said, her voice steady but thick with emotion.

They drank, the ale bitter but grounding. She took another bite of stew, her movements less mechanical now, a spark of purpose in her eyes.

The bard’s song picked up, a lively tune that had a few adventurers tapping their feet. Kael leaned back, his silver eyes scanning the room again.

A group of mercenaries at a nearby table laughed loudly, their weapons propped against their chairs. A lone adventurer in a corner nursed a tankard, his cloak hiding his face.

The inn felt alive like a fleeting haven in a world of blood and trials.

Sera pushed her plate away, half the stew gone. "This place... it’s loud," she said, her tone dry.

Kael chuckled. "Better than a dungeon, right?"

She smirked, a small but real smile. "Barely."

They finished their meal in comfortable silence, the weight of their losses still there but lighter, shared. Kael paid the serving girl with a few more bronze coins, and they headed back upstairs.

The room’s lantern flickered as they settled in, Kael taking the bed by the door, Sera by the window. She unslung her bow, placing it within reach, her fingers lingering on the scorched wood.

Kael lay back, his hands behind his head, the Abyssal Fang hidden under his pillow. "Get some rest," he said. "Tomorrow’s a new day."

Sera nodded, her eyes on the ceiling. "For Mira," she whispered, closing her eyes.

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