Not long after, Michelle led Ron and his group to an inn.
"This place is quiet and rarely crowded," Michelle introduced warmly. "It's perfect for resting. Rooms are limited, so I booked everything in advance after receiving Father's letter."
Only then did everyone realize Michelle had already made arrangements. Ron glanced around—the location was excellent, and the atmosphere was peaceful—so he accepted the kindness without protest.
Seeing Ron nod, Michelle beamed. He retrieved several keys from the innkeeper and distributed them one by one.
"This is the owner, Mr. Reagan. He's very reliable. If you need anything, just ask him."
Ron turned toward the counter. The innkeeper was stout and rugged, with an eyepatch over one eye and countless scars across his exposed arm.
Michelle leaned closer and whispered, "Mr. Reagan used to be a very powerful adventurer. He retired after getting injured and opened this place."
"Michelle, don't whisper," Reagan said flatly from behind the counter. "I may be blind in one eye, but my ears work perfectly fine."
Michelle only chuckled. "Mr. Reagan, my friends are staying here. Please take good care of them."
"Enough chatter," Reagan snorted. "My guests don't need you watching over them."
Judging from their exchange, their relationship seemed quite good.
Ron was just about to speak when the inn's door creaked open.
A middle-aged man entered carrying a long staff. His black robe was worn to shreds, his hair disheveled, his expression utterly defeated—like a man carrying the weight of ten years of misfortune.
The man ignored all eyes on him, walked straight past Ron's group, and headed upstairs to a room on the second floor.
Michelle's expression sank slightly. "Was Senior Jeff kicked out of his adventurer team again?"
Reagan didn't even look up as he wiped the counter. "Third time this month. I told him ages ago—he isn't suited to be an adventurer. He chants spells so slowly he should've died ten times over by now. Wouldn't surprise me if he actually dies outside someday… Bah, forget it. Not our business."
Seeing Reagan unwilling to continue, Michelle let the topic drop and sighed softly before remembering Ron was beside him.
"Apologies, that probably wasn't pleasant to hear."
Ron waved it off. "You called him 'Senior.' You know him?"
Michelle thought for a moment, then explained, "Not exactly. Ten years ago, Senior Jeff graduated from the Noble Academy. He's my senior there. He's also… a summoner."
Ron's eyes sharpened instantly.
Michelle continued, "Summoners are exceedingly rare. At the time, Senior Jeff was a commoner, yet he was admitted to the academy as a summoning magician—that caused quite a sensation. But his chanting was slow… painfully slow. He made mistakes often, too."
"After graduation, no one knows why, but Senior Jeff became an adventurer. He's been struggling ever since."
A summoner…
Ron's mind began racing.
Do summoned creatures follow the law of conservation of energy?
Are they transported from somewhere else?
Or created outright through magic power?
He shelved the questions for later and offered a handshake.
"Michelle, thank you for today. It's getting late—you should head back."
Michelle smiled brightly and took his hand. "Even though we just met, I feel like we get along really well. Tomorrow I'll bring Marina, and we'll explore together."
Ron nodded politely, but his attention was already on the character card floating before him.
[Silver One-Star]
[Michelle Gordon]
[Favorability: 68 (Friendly)]
[Trait 1: Sunny and Cheerful Little Prince (Green)]
Sunny and Cheerful Little Prince (Green): Possesses an extremely optimistic aura. Increases opposite-sex affection +100%, same-sex affection +50%.
Ron: "???"
A shiver crawled up his spine. His palm even felt sweaty.
Michelle noticed immediately. "Ron? Are you feeling unwell?"
"No," Ron said quickly. "I just walked a lot today. I'm a bit tired."
"I see. Rest well, then. Thomas can see me out," Michelle smiled.
Thomas escorted him outside.
Ron stared at the hand he had just shaken.
I knew it. I felt better the moment we met. The reason has been found.
A trait that manipulates emotional perception… even stronger than Abel's.
He glanced sideways at Veronica.
"What do you think of Michelle? Tell me honestly."
Veronica answered instantly, "He's a good person!"
Ron fell silent.
…He couldn't tell at all if that was the trait talking.
Everyone checked into their rooms afterward.
The Royal Capital enforced a strict nighttime curfew. The streets emptied, and the gates closed to maintain order. With merchants, adventurers, and scholars from all over the kingdom, keeping peace in such a massive city was no easy task.
Ron couldn't help feeling a twinge of regret. Arnold Territory also had a curfew—he had hoped the Capital might be different at night.
The night passed uneventfully.
The next morning, Ron rose early.
Veronica assisted him as he washed up. "This inn doesn't provide meals, but Boss Reagan prepared breakfast for you."
Breakfast turned out to be two skewers of roasted meat.
Ron frowned at the sight of roasted meat so early in the morning—but the moment the aroma reached his nose, his appetite stirred.
He took a bite.
Crispy on the outside. Tender on the inside. Rich fragrance lingering afterward.
Ron devoured both skewers.
After breakfast, he went downstairs. Sig and the knights were already waiting.
Ron approached the counter. "Boss Reagan, thank you for breakfast. It was delicious."
"Hn." Reagan didn't bother looking up.
Ron didn't mind and asked, "What kind of meat was that? It tasted better than anything I've had."
"Demon Horned Rabbit. Buy it yourself if you want it. Three silver coins each."
Reagan spoke plainly—even learning Ron was a noble hadn't made him behave more deferentially.
Ron smiled. "A Demon Horned Rabbit? What does it look like? Does it really have horns?"
Reagan paused mid-wipe, giving Ron a strange look before glancing at the knights behind him.
"A very common magical beast. One sharp horn. Not dangerous. Any ordinary adventurer can beat it. Don't tell me you've never seen one?"
Ron shook his head. "This is my first time hearing about it."
Reagan frowned. "Where are you from?"
"Arnold Territory. I'm the lord there."
Reagan froze. His expression dimmed, and he instinctively touched his eyepatch before lowering his hand.
"…Of course I've heard of it. I lost my eye in the Black Valley Forest."
Ron was startled.
So Mr. Reagan had such a past.
The mention of the forest killed Reagan's mood instantly.
He waved a hand. "Since you're close with that brat Michelle, let me give you a warning. Never enter that forest. You cannot handle what's inside."
There was something chilling in his voice—a deep fear that made Ron's skin prickle.
Anything that could scare a former expert adventurer…
Ron exhaled and extended his hand. "Thank you, Boss Reagan. You gave me a warning and excellent breakfast. I'll remember it."
Reagan shot him a side-glance but didn't shake hands.
Ron didn't force it and withdrew his hand just as—
Michelle appeared at the door, accompanied by a tall young woman.