Azel walked out of the room with Lillia holding onto his good arm, her tiny steps quick and eager to match his.
His other arm had regenerated but the state it was left in still made him grimace.
It was working, yes, but in shambles, aching as if it had been twisted into knots.
’Bone Strengthening my ass,’ he thought bitterly, rembering the "lesson" he had endured earlier.
To him, it was less about strengthening bones and more about watching him suffer.
Whoever devised that thod probably enjoyed the screams of their disciples.
The stingy man who craved divinity more than anything — Azel could only curse him silently.
They descended the staircase quickly.
Down below, the won were gathered, each pair of eyes fixed on him as he entered.
Their gazes were not uniform — Edna’s eyes was filled with worry, Diana’s eyes with amusent, and Effie’s eyes with outright disapproval.
Effie spoke first.
"Brother, you were screaming like a woman." Her arms were crossed, her tone dripping with disdain.
Azel opened his mouth to retort but no words ca.
What was he supposed to say?
That his hand had been twisted faster than he could regenerate?
That every shred of his pride had been burned in that mont of helplessness?
He had no one to bla but that stingy bastard of a man who seed to find pleasure in tornt.
In the end, he shut his mouth and sighed.
He handed Lillia gently over to Effie nearby, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before straightening up.
"I’m feeling the need for fish," Azel muttered, trying to shake off the embarrassnt.
With a faint smile, he added, "Be right back."
Before any of the won could protest, his figure was already moving toward the front door, the cool evening air greeting him as he stepped outside.
...
The streets of the city were calm, bathed in the fading light of the setting sun.
Azel walked with an unhurried pace, his shoulders were loose, though his mind was far from quiet.
He let out a small sigh.
Over the past months, he had co to know this city more better than he expected.
The winding alleys, the bustling markets, the quiet corners where one could escape notice — he had learned them all.
And he owed much of that knowledge to Anya.
’Speaking of Anya,’ Azel thought, eyes narrowing as he passed by familiar stalls, ’she should be helping Elyon around this ti.’
Anya was reliable that way.
Elyon had been busier than ever lately, his work no longer limited to weapons alone.
Now he crafted furniture, tools, and even ornants when commissioned.
The man’s hands never stopped moving, and Anya often assisted him, fetching materials or calming impatient custors.
But Azel’s feet were not carrying him toward them.
No, he had another destination in mind.
If there was one place he had morized first in this city, it was Alani’s fish shop.
Anya’s older brother, Alani, was a straightforward man, simple but skilled.
And when it ca to fish, no one in the city compared.
The flavor, the crispness, the way he seasoned each dish, it couldn’t be matched.
For Azel, who had tried almost every dish joint here, Alani’s was still the best.
So on a chilly evening like this, with the sky painted in hues of orange and violet, it was only natural for his feet to bring him there.
As he walked, townsfolk bowed and greeted him respectfully.
He returned the gestures with polite nods.
He was their prince, after all.
Finally, the familiar sight of the small shop ca into view.
He approached, expecting the slim figure of Alani to be waiting with a knife in hand and the sll of grilled fish in the air.
But instead, a woman stood there.
Middle-aged, her hair tied back neatly, her features kind though lined with years of hardship.
She looked up as he entered, her eyes widening before she quickly bowed low.
"Evening, my prince," she said with quiet respect.
Azel blinked.
"Evening. Is Alani not here?" His tone carried curiosity after all, Alani was not the type to leave his station easily.
The woman straightened, smoothing her apron. "No, my husband isn’t here at the mont."
Azel’s brows lifted slightly.
’His wife,’ he thought, realization dawning.
He rembered Alani once making a joke while he was eating — sothing about going back in ti and stopping himself from marrying her.
Azel had brushed it off as a joke, but the mory returned now.
Looking at her, he didn’t see anything wrong.
She seed humble, devoted, even gentle in deanor.
Was it truly regret in Alani’s words, or was it simply a joke he misunderstood?
Pushing the thought aside, Azel asked,
"Do you perhaps know where he went?"
The woman nodded slowly, her voice steady though touched with a trace of worry.
"Oh, Sir Prince, you wouldn’t usually know, but once every month my husband spends his ti in the hunting grounds."
"Hunting grounds?" Azel repeated, surprised.
"Yes," she confird. "He wanted to beco a hunter ever since he was young. Sotis he cos back wounded, sotis not at all until I go look for him. It has beco his ritual, no matter how dangerous."
Her eyes softened, but just as she was about to continue, she realized sothing.
The prince was no longer standing before her.
Azel had already gone, his figure vanishing into the snow.
The woman let out a long, heavy sigh, dropping her polite smile now that he was gone.
"Phew..." she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples. "That annoying son of a bitch. When he gets back ho, I’ll beat him up."
It was her own way of showing her worry, of course she would be unhappy...
’He doesn’t listen, he already has a good business here for him, And he isn’t even risking his life.’ She thought with pursed lips, ’But every month, he goes to that damned place and tries to get himself killed. Damn him.’
She only wished her prince could stop him... she had long since given up trying to.
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