The restaurant sat just down the road from the Mercenary Guild building, glowing like a warm hearth under the starlit sky.
Its wood-paneled walls and flickering lanterns made it feel more like a tucked-away cottage than a public dining space, and it had long earned a reputation for being the last place to close each night.
Damien arrived just as the lanterns outside were being trimmed low for the night.
He stepped off Aquila, patting the griffin lightly on the neck. "Good work," he murmured.
The mana beast let out a soft, low chuff in reply, its feathers ruffling slightly as Damien dismissed it with a thought.
Blue light shimmered around the beast's form as it vanished into a flickering portal—gone in an instant, like a dream dissolving.
Luton, however, remained firmly perched atop Damien's head. The little red slime wobbled once in defiance of gravity but didn't move an inch otherwise.
