The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Kael pushed open the tavern door, and a wave of warm, smoky air rolled over him. The low hum of conversation filled the space, punctuated by the clatter of mugs and the occasional burst of laughter. Creaky wooden floors groaned underfoot as he stepped inside, glancing around the room. It was modest but inviting, with lanterns casting a golden glow that softened the rough edges of the timber walls. The smell of roasted meat mingled with the sharp tang of spilled ale, and his stomach rumbled despite himself.

Liora followed close behind, his sharp eyes flicking over the room with a practiced ease that gave Kael pause. It wasn't just a casual glance—it was precise, calculating, as though the halfling were silently mapping every exit, gauging every face, and cataloging potential threats in the blink of an eye. It made Kael wonder what kind of life had honed those instincts and whether he was ready to find out.

The smirk that rarely left Liora's face was firmly in place, but his gaze lingered briefly on a group of rowdy merchants in the far corner. Their boisterous laughter filled the air, one of them slamming his tankard against the table with a cheer that seemed a touch too forced. Liora's smirk twitched, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he gestured toward a quieter table near the hearth, away from the main bustle of the room.

"Not too close to the fire," Liora said as he moved toward the table with the kind of fluid confidence that Kael could never quite emulate. "I'm not keen on roasting alive, even for ambiance"

Kael slid into the seat across from him, grateful for the warmth that radiated from the hearth without overwhelming the space. He picked up the worn menu, his eyes lighting up at the mention of spiced stew and honeyed bread. "This looks promising," he said, glancing at Liora. "You eating, or just planning to smirk at me all night?"

Liora leaned back in his chair, feigning deep thought. "I suppose I could spare a few coins for some ale and maybe a bite. Watching you stuff your face might be entertaining enough to make it worthwhile."

Kael rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a faint smile. When the server arrived, he ordered the stew and bread, while Liora opted for a small plate of smoked sausage and a tankard of ale. The halfling tossed a coin onto the table with a practiced flick of his wrist, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the wood.

"You've got that look," Liora said, his tone light but edged with curiosity. Experience new stories on My Virtual Library Empire

"What look?" Kael asked, glancing up from the menu.

"The one that says you're about to ask me something annoying," Liora replied, his smirk shifting into a teasing grin that hinted at an almost brotherly patience. His voice carried a lilt of humor, but his sharp eyes studied Kael as though bracing for something heavier. "Go on, then. Get it out of your system. Might as well entertain me while we wait."

Kael hesitated, then leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "Why are you always so... I don't know, on edge? Like you're expecting trouble around every corner."

Liora's grin widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Paranoia keeps you breathing, kid. Besides, with company like yours, I'd be a fool not to stay sharp."

Kael opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted as their food arrived. The server set down the steaming bowl of stew in front of him, the rich aroma making his stomach growl audibly. Liora's plate was far less impressive, but the halfling didn't seem to mind. He lifted his tankard in a mock toast.

"To questionable decisions and overpriced meals," Liora said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Kael snorted and raised his spoon in response. "I'll drink to that," he muttered before diving into his meal. The stew was hearty, the spices warming him from the inside out, and the bread was just sweet enough to balance the savory flavors. For a moment, he let himself relax, savoring the food and the brief reprieve from the road.

Liora ate more slowly, his sharp eyes never staying in one place for too long. Kael watched him between bites, curiosity gnawing at him like a persistent itch. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer.

"You've traveled a lot, right?" Kael asked, trying to sound casual.

Liora glanced up, one brow arched. "And here I thought we'd moved past the annoying questions."

Kael shrugged, undeterred. "Just wondering. You seem like you've seen your fair share of trouble."

Liora's smirk returned, but there was something guarded in his expression. "Trouble has a way of finding me," he said lightly. "Comes with the territory."

"What territory is that?" Kael pressed.

Liora took a long sip of his ale, the tankard lingering at his lips as though the liquid might somehow loosen the words he was hesitant to share. His eyes flicked toward the dim lantern light above, reflecting a far-off expression Kael couldn't quite place. When he finally spoke, his tone carried its usual flippancy, but there was a weight beneath it, like the echo of stories he refused to tell. "Let's just say I've learned the hard way that reading people keeps you alive. Knowing who's worth trusting, who's hiding a knife, and who's about to hand you one—it's a skill you either master, or you don't get to tell anyone how you failed."

He leaned back in his chair, the flickering shadows of the hearth playing across his face. "It's not about being one step ahead because you're clever. It's about being one step ahead because you have no choice. It's that, or you're dead—or worse. And trust me, there's worse."@@novelbin@@

Kael's brow furrowed as he studied Liora. There was something in the halfling's voice, a note of bitterness masked by his usual irreverence. "That sounds... exhausting," Kael said cautiously.

Liora snorted softly, the smirk returning to his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It is. But the world doesn't care about exhaustion. It just cares about what you're willing to do to stay in it." His hand drifted to the tankard again, his fingers tightening around the handle as if grounding himself.

"And you?" Liora's sharp gaze flicked to Kael, his tone teasing but his eyes searching. "You still trying to figure out whether I'm the knife or the hand holding it?"

Kael shook his head, his voice quiet but firm. "No, I'm trying to figure out why you care so much about teaching me all this. You could've left me behind a dozen times by now. Why didn't you?"

For a moment, Liora didn't answer. He stared at Kael, the teasing veneer slipping just enough to reveal a glimmer of something deeper—a hesitation, or maybe regret. Then he shrugged, his smirk sliding back into place like a mask. "Maybe I'm bored. Or maybe you're just too much of a disaster to leave alone. Either way, you're stuck with me for now."

Kael frowned, his spoon hovering over the bowl. "That's... vague."

"It's supposed to be," Liora said, flashing a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Why spoil the mystery?"

Kael didn't push further, though his curiosity was far from satisfied. Instead, he shifted the conversation to their current quest. "Those scratches we saw in the caverns... what do you think made them?"

Liora's grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "Doesn't matter until it matters," he said. "Right now, we've got a job to finish. Focus on that."

Kael nodded reluctantly, sensing that he wasn't going to get any more out of the halfling tonight. They finished their meal in relative silence, the noise of the tavern filling the gaps in their conversation. As the room grew more crowded, Kael's thoughts turned to their next steps, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Liora was holding something back.

When the server returned with the bill, Kael reached for his wallet, determined to split it fairly. Liora raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning in full force.

"Honest to a fault," Liora remarked. "You're going to make someone a very boring story one day."

"And you're going to make someone a very annoying obituary," Kael shot back, tossing a few coins onto the table.

As the server collected the payment, a small envelope materialized beside Liora's plate as though it had always been there. The paper, aged and fragile, bore the faint scent of old ink and smoke, evoking the image of forgotten libraries and sealed secrets. The handwriting was sharp and deliberate, every stroke of the bold ink conveying intent. On the outside, a single line etched with haunting precision read: "To Rylan Duskwhisper."