Powerless Boy is reborn as Lustful Elf
Chapter 62: in for dinner

Chapter 62: in for dinner

The evening settled over Elaris Hold like a soft violet blanket, the horizon swallowing the last slivers of sunlight as fireflies, or some elven kin with golden glows, winked among the garden’s shimmering blooms.

The glass-leaved tree cast a faint sparkle, its branches swaying gently in the breeze.

Alex sprawled beneath a wide, low tree, its canopy draping him in cool shade, his tunic bunched under his head like a pillow.

The mossy ground was damp against his bare back, a faint whiff of crushed petals clinging to his skin as he slept, his chest rising and falling in deep, easy breaths.

The day’s warmth lingered, but the air carried the earthy musk of the animal enclosures and the distant clatter of settling poultry.

A low hum broke the quiet, the sliding gate whirring open, then gliding shut with a metallic click.

Jusin’s heavy boots crunched gravel as he approached, a sack of poultry feed slung over one shoulder, his broad frame casting a shadow across the path.

Griesla moved beside him, her simple gown whispering against the ground, her pale face calm but distant, the ruby chain at her throat catching a firefly’s flicker.

She glanced at Alex, her gray eyes softening for a heartbeat, then turned toward the house, her steps light and deliberate.

Jusin stopped, spotting Alex under the tree, and a grin cracked his bearded face, his hazel eyes glinting with humor. "Well, damn, look at this guy," he muttered, dropping the sack with a thud that startled a twinlight in its pen.

Alex stirred, blinking as the world swam back, tree leaves rustling, Jusin’s weathered face framed against the twilight. "Hey," he mumbled, sitting up, scrubbing a hand through his messy hair, his voice thick but carrying that unshakable confidence.

He stretched, muscles flexing under sweat-streaked skin, and grabbed his tunic, shaking off a petal before tugging it on. "You’re back."

Jusin laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that felt like a campfire’s warmth. "Yeah, just got in from the market by the border," he said, squatting beside Alex, his mud-stained tunic creasing. "Picked up feed for the chickens, those greedy bastards eat like it’s their last meal." He patted the sack, dust puffing up, and leaned back on his heels, hands braced on his knees, relaxed but solid. "Trip was a shitshow, though. Wanna hear about it?"

Alex propped himself against the tree trunk, smirking, his curiosity hooked. "yeah, what went down?" he asked, his tone light but eager, like he was ready to one-up the story if he got the chance.

Jusin’s grin spread, eyes crinkling as he dove in. "So, there’s this stall run by Tormin, grumpy old jerk, but his grain’s top-notch. I’m trying to talk him down a few notes, right? Standard haggling, no big deal. He’s yelling—’Jusin, you’re killing me here!’ when this random chicken, one of those fancy speckled ones, jumps right onto his stall. Knocks over a whole damn sack of seed!"

He clapped his hands, the sound sharp, his laugh booming. "Grain’s all over, Tormin’s losing his mind, cursing like a sailor, and the chicken’s just strutting around like it owns the place. Took me forever to clean it up, and I still paid full price."

Alex snorted, his smirk stretching into a grin, eyes catching the fireflies’ glow. "So a bird outsmarted you?" he teased, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Thought you’d be tougher, man."

"Tough enough to haul this feed while you’re napping like a princess," Jusin fired back, winking, his tone warm but with a playful edge. "You look like you tangled with a twinlight and lost, kid. What’s your deal today?"

His brow arched, a knowing spark in his eye, but he left it there, letting the question float.

Alex shrugged, his confidence smooth as ever, a sly glint in his smile. "Just... checking things out," he said, dodging with the ease of someone used to charming his way around.

Before Jusin could poke further, a soft voice drifted from the house, slicing through the evening’s hum.

"Jusin! Alex! Dinner’s ready!" Griesla’s voice drifted through the evening air, a quiet singsong that carried a gentle authority, soft as silk, yet impossible to ignore.

It moved like a breeze through the trees, brushing past the hedges and ivy-covered walls, weaving its way through the dusky stillness of the garden.

She stood framed in the doorway of the cottage, where the golden light of the hearth spilled out in a warm, inviting glow.

It clung to her like an aura, illuminating the soft lines of her face and casting long shadows behind her.

Her silhouette was graceful, almost ethereal, with her slender hands absentmindedly smoothing the fabric of her dusk-blue gown, a habitual motion that spoke of both care and poise.

Jusin pushed up, groaning as his knees popped, and offered Alex a hand. "C’mon, kid, can’t keep Griesla waiting or we’ll be in trouble."

Alex grabbed it, pulling himself up with a fluid move, his tunic settling as they headed in, gravel crunching under their steps.

Inside, the air was thick with roasted herbs and fresh bread, the living room’s paintings and figurines glowing in lantern light.

Alex paused, glancing around, a spark of curiosity flaring. "Is Inolda eating with us?" he asked, his tone casual but his mind flicking to her pink curls and sharp smirk.

Jusin shook his head, hooking his cloak on a peg. "Nah, she headed home," he said, matter-of-fact, though a fond note slipped in. "Inolda’s not big on sticking around."

Griesla emerged from the kitchen, a steaming dish in her hands, her ruby chain glinting as she set it down. "She never takes dinner with us anyway," she added, her voice soft but clear, a simple truth rather than a jab.

Alex nodded, hiding a twinge of disappointment with a quick smile, his charm kicking in.

"Guess I’ll hog the food, then," he said, sliding into a chair, the house’s warmth wrapping him like a quiet promise.