The sun had just set not long ago.
A beautiful crescent moon slowly emerged from the night, shining brilliantly among the stars and the glimmer of fireflies.
Moonlight shone upon Alet’s heavy armor, covered in scars.
Every step he took gave off a harsh metallic scraping sound.
In the stillness of the night, it was especially sharp.
The base of the Crystal Thorn Adventurers was surrounded by woods.
As a noble Blood Clan member, Merlot hated any noise around her residence.
She also didn’t want to live too close to other races.
So, she built her house in this remote place where few people ever came.
Alet felt a bit weak.
The pain in his body was sharp.
Healing magic had treated the surface wounds, but the accumulated trauma from a day of fierce fighting was not so easily erased.
Still, he’d suffered injuries like these many times before.
He didn’t think much of them.
“Miss… she wasn’t like this before.”
Alet’s mind echoed with everything he had experienced earlier.
Merlot, once, though proud, was gentle and courteous, always treating Alet with kindness.
However, her talent among the Blood Clan wasn’t particularly outstanding, and she was often mocked by her kin.
Her innate pride would not allow her to endure others’ ridicule or contempt, so she set out on the path of adventure.
She longed to reach the Underground City Tenth Level, where no one had ever been, and become a Legendary Adventurer to prove herself.
And it seemed that from then on, the way Merlot treated him began to change.
“Am I still not strong enough…”
“If I could help Miss progress more smoothly, maybe she’d be a little happier.”
Alet looked at the battered armor on the back of his hand and pondered for a moment.
“Forget it, I won’t think about that now.”
“I really want to eat something…”
“And something to drink would be even better.”
Whenever he was exhausted, Alet always craved something to eat.
It was as if a good meal could sweep away all fatigue and bad moods.
But Merlot, being Blood Clan, barely ate human food.
Back when he worked as a guard in the Blood Clan Territory, Alet could only eat some very plain food.
Bread, the same vegetables and meat over and over, barely seasoned at all.
It was filling and nutritious enough, but certainly not tasty.
As for drinks… there was only water.
After all, Alet could never get used to drinking blood.
Suddenly, he remembered something.
Milk.
It was something he drank back when his hometown was still intact, and his parents were still alive.
He vaguely remembered that whenever he cried as a child, his parents would bring out a bottle of milk, slowly warm it over the fire, and finally add a little sugar for him to drink.
Though his memories of home had faded, he still remembered the sweet taste of milk.
After becoming a guard, he never had it again.
“The Town isn’t far… I’ll go and have a look.”
“If it’s just milk, it shouldn’t be hard to find.”
A short while later, Alet’s imposing figure appeared at the entrance of a Tavern.
Because he was clad in heavy armor, he made a lot of noise.
For a moment, everyone inside the Tavern was drawn to him.
The drinkers stopped.
The talkers stopped.
Even the dwarf telling jokes stopped.
All eyes turned to the figure at the Tavern door.
“Hey, have you ever seen that guy before?”
“No idea, but he doesn’t look like a regular knight. Knights from our parts can’t handle armor that thick.”
But the attention only lasted a moment.
Soon, the crowd’s conversations drifted on to other things.
Clearly, Alet didn’t care about any of this.
He glanced around.
There were about twenty or thirty people in the Tavern, most drinking and chatting, a few already dead drunk.
Those who could hold their liquor were sleeping, and those who couldn’t were already causing a ruckus.
But the lively atmosphere had nothing to do with him.
He strode straight to the counter.
“Hey there, customer. Good evening. Judging by your look, did you just come up from the Underground City?”
The Tavern Keeper was quite experienced, greeting him with a smile right away.
“What would you like to drink? We’ve got every kind of liquor and beverage here. Our most famous is the black rye beer, rich and fragrant—”
“Do you have milk?”
Before the Tavern Keeper could finish, Alet cut him off.
His voice was so deep, pressed down by the heavy armor, that it carried an invisible sense of authority.
“M-milk?”
The Tavern Keeper clearly hadn’t expected this knight to ask for such a thing, and was momentarily stunned.
“Yes, milk.”
Alet nodded, then thought for a moment and added,
“The white liquid squeezed from under a cow. Hot, with sugar.”
The Tavern Keeper gave an awkward laugh and rubbed his hands.
“Ah, yes, customer. I know what milk is. Please wait a moment, I’ll fetch it from the kitchen.”
With that, he hurriedly turned and slipped into the back.
After ordering, Alet found an empty table nearby and sat down.
He didn’t chat or brag, didn’t eat, and didn’t read the paper.
He simply sat in his heavy armor, like a statue at the table.
Just as he planned to enjoy a moment of quiet solitude, a familiar voice slipped past his helm and into his ears.
“Little knight, I didn’t expect you to come to a place like this alone.”
The voice carried a seductive charm—normal in tone, yet somehow always teasing.
A graceful figure appeared, slowly taking a seat beside Alet.
It was the witch, Vivian, who had saved him earlier from the Magma Slug Swarm attack.
Even though she was wrapped in a thick cloak, her shapely figure still managed to show through the layers of cloth.
The warm, yellow Tavern light fell on her wine-red hair and beautiful face, creating a dreamy, unreal feeling.
Her presence seemed to draw attention naturally. Many in the Tavern found their eyes drifting toward her.
Alet had no idea when she’d arrived.
He was sure he hadn’t seen her when he came in.
“Why are you here too?”
Alet spoke, his tone very calm.
“Work’s done, so of course I came here for a couple of drinks. Meeting you here means we’re really fated, don’t you think?”
Vivian was, of course, lying—she had followed Alet all the way here.
But for such a small lie, she didn’t even need to blink.
“So, did I lie to you before?”
Vivian propped her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her palm.
Then, with her other hand, she affectionately tapped Alet’s armor twice, making two crisp “tap-tap” sounds.
“……”
Alet had come to the Tavern to shake off his gloomy mood.
Yet with just a few words, Vivian pulled him right back to reality.
Seeing Alet silent, Vivian guessed what was on his mind.
A playful curve rose at the corner of her lips, her eyes arching like a lovely crescent moon.
“Hey, little knight.”
“Those folks from Merlot’s side are really heartless. They tossed you aside just like that.”
“I bet that after you go back, you won’t get a word of care or apology, will you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here to drown your sorrows, right?”
Vivian tilted her head, trying to peer beneath his helmet at his face.
“Really don’t want to consider joining our Moth Adventurers?”
“I promise, I’ll treat you way better than that blood-loving young lady ever could.”