CHAPTER 210: DISAPPOINTMENT 2

Lucas stood there, letting the last flickers of Qi fade into the smoky air. The crowd still buzzed with excitement, whispering about what they had just witnessed, but his expression betrayed none of their awe. His eyes softened, not out of compassion for his opponent, but because he no longer felt motivated to carry on. The merchant, chest heaving from exertion, looked as if he had fought for his life, while Lucas had not even broken a sweat. To continue any longer would be a waste of time.

With calm, steady steps, Lucas walked toward the older man, and the merchant, still bracing for another attack, tensed instinctively. But instead of raising his hand to strike, Lucas stopped just before him and spoke in a tone laced with quiet authority.

"You’ve lost," he said simply, his voice low yet carrying clearly across the room. "The wager was made, and you knew the risks. I’ll be taking the room."

The merchant’s face twisted in defiance, but he could not argue. Too many eyes were watching, too many witnesses had seen the match. To break his word now would mean losing more than a room; it would mean losing face, and his reputation among the people was far more valuable than any chamber in an inn. His jaw tightened, but at last he gave a bitter nod.

"Take it then," he spat, though his tone was restrained by necessity. "Have your moment, boy. I will find better accommodations in a better district, where men of true standing belong. You may enjoy this place, but it is beneath me."

The crowd muttered at his words, some laughing at the weak excuse, others shaking their heads at his obvious bitterness. Lucas, however, only sneered, his amusement plain.

"You speak of better districts," Lucas replied, his eyes never leaving the man’s. "And yet you came here. You came because you wanted what this place offers...the noise, the drink, the freedom, the thrill of something real. That’s why I came too. Because this is where the fun is. You may pretend otherwise, but we both know the truth."

He leaned slightly closer, his words sharp enough to cut. "So do yourself a favor and fuck off. Go back to your polished halls and your empty chatter with the boring rich. Leave this place to those who actually know how to live."

A ripple ran through the crowd at his blunt dismissal. Some laughed openly, others gasped at his boldness, and a few clapped their hands against the tables in approval. The merchant’s face burned with shame and fury, but what could he do? He had already lost. To linger now would only deepen his humiliation.

Grinding his teeth, he turned sharply and pushed his way toward the door, his steps heavy with frustration. The crowd parted before him, some jeering softly, others whispering, all eyes fixed on his retreating figure.

Lucas did not watch him leave. Instead, he turned back toward the innkeeper, who was standing stiffly behind the counter, clearly uncertain whether to smile in relief or tremble at the wreckage left behind. Without hesitation, Lucas reached into his robe, drew out a heavy purse of coins, and tossed it across the counter. The bag landed with a solid thud, the clinking of silver and gold filling the air.

"For the damages," Lucas said casually, his tone unconcerned but fair. "And for the trouble."

The innkeeper caught the purse, eyes wide at the unexpected generosity. He stammered, bowing quickly. "Y-yes, young master, of course, thank you! Everything will be arranged immediately."

Lucas gave a short nod, then turned back to the crowd. Many were still staring at him with awe, admiration, or envy, but he paid them no mind. The only satisfaction he allowed himself was a faint smirk as he made his way back to his table, while the merchant, red-faced and defeated, disappeared into the night outside.

The tavern had not yet quieted from the uproar when Lucas raised his hand toward the innkeeper again. His voice carried over the last of the noise, steady and commanding despite the faint slur of drink.

"Now then," he said, stretching his shoulders as if the entire scuffle had been no more than a warm-up. "Be a good host and lead me to my room. The best one, the one I won tonight."

The innkeeper nearly tripped over his own feet in his rush to obey, bowing once more before coming out from behind the counter. "Yes, yes, right away, young master. This way, if you please."

As Lucas stepped forward, the three girls gathered around him without hesitation. Selene, always the boldest, slipped her arm through his with a sly grin that made several onlookers mutter under their breath. Nyx walked just behind, her smile softer but her eyes gleaming, while Lira clung to his other side, giggling lightly at the envious stares directed their way.

"Did you see his face when you told him to go to the boring rich?" Selene whispered with a laugh, leaning close enough that her words brushed against his ear. "I thought he was going to choke on his own pride."

Lucas chuckled, shaking his head. "Men like him can’t stand to be mocked. That’s why it’s so satisfying."

Lira let out a playful laugh and nudged him gently. "You looked so serious when you said it."

Nyx’s voice joined softly, her tone admiring but thoughtful. "You held back though. You didn’t fight him seriously, not even once. They all saw it, Xavier. And it only made you seem more untouchable."

He gave her a sly smile. "Then let them think what they want."

Their giggles bubbled again, echoing through the hall as the innkeeper hurriedly led them upstairs. People moved out of their way, whispering, some with admiration, others with envy, but none dared speak against him now.

The air in the upper hall was quieter, heavier with the scent of old wood and faint incense. The innkeeper paused at the end of the corridor before a broad wooden door reinforced with polished iron. He bowed, fumbling with a key.

"Here it is, young master," he said nervously as he pushed the door open. "The finest room in the house. Everything is prepared."

Lucas nodded lazily, his grin not fading as the girls giggled once more around him.