CHAPTER 203: CHAPTER 203 – A QUIET NIGHT AT THE SILVER MOON

The night air still clung softly to her skin as Sylvia finally stepped back from the balcony. Moonlight slanted across the room, falling over the wooden floorboards and giving them a muted silver sheen, as though the whole room had been brushed with a thin layer of metal.

She closed the balcony door quietly, then glanced around. Her red eyes caught on something that lifted the corner of her lips, a small door in the corner of the room, half open, revealing a white-tiled space beyond.

A bathroom? she thought, a little surprised. Not every inn offered such a luxury, especially in a small town like this. And judging from its size and layout, it was clearly more than a tiny washbasin. She pushed the door open, and as she suspected inside stood a large bathtub of smooth stone, big enough for a full, comfortable soak. A small rack held blocks of fragrant herbal soap, thick towels hung neatly from a rail, and an oval mirror gleamed on the wall.

But... It was empty. No water.

Sylvia touched the inside of the tub cold and dry. She let out a small sigh. Of course. Luxurious... but troublesome if she had to fill it herself.

Heating water wouldn’t be an issue; her Nether Flame could reach the perfect temperature in seconds. But conjuring water was another story. She had no skill with water magic, and filling something this size with buckets? Too much hassle.

With an easy step, she left the room and headed downstairs. The Silver Moon’s main hall was warmer than she’d expected. Large oil lamps on the walls cast a golden glow over the round wooden tables where a few guests lingered over their dinners. The air was rich with the scent of toasted bread, thick soup, and the faint sweetness of herbal drinks from the small bar.

The innkeeper, the same middle-aged woman who had greeted her earlier, was busy delivering orders to a table near the kitchen. Sylvia approached, her steps near-silent on the wood.

"Excuse me," she said.

The woman turned, smiling warmly. "Oh, Miss Rank B. What can I do for you?"

"I’d like to use the bathtub in my room," Sylvia replied simply. "But I can’t fill it myself. Do you offer that service?"

The woman nodded in understanding and beckoned to a young girl cleaning tables in the corner. "Lira, come here, dear."

The girl’s long brown hair tied in a ponytail, bright blue eyes hurried over. "This is Miss...?"

"Sylvia," she said shortly.

"Miss Sylvia needs her bathtub filled. You can use your magic, yes?"

Lira nodded quickly, glancing at Sylvia with curious interest. "Of course, Miss. The fee is one silver coin for a full fill."

Pretty steep... Sylvia thought, but shrugged inwardly. One silver was nothing after her haul from the Tower of Echoes. "Fine. Do it now."

Lira smiled, taking the silver from Sylvia’s hand, and followed her upstairs.

The moment they entered the room, the girl headed straight for the small door to the bathroom. Standing at the tub’s edge, she closed her eyes and raised both hands.

"Aqua Manifest."

The air grew instantly more humid. From her palms, a clear, cold stream burst forth, swirling before splashing down into the tub. The sound echoed softly off the walls like heavy rain on a stone roof.

Sylvia watched in silence. It took several minutes for the water to reach the brim. Lira smoothed the surface with a final gesture, then stopped the spell.

"All full, Miss. If you’d like, we also offer heating for two more silver coins."

Sylvia’s lips curved faintly as she shook her head. "No need. I can handle it myself."

"Oh?" Lira tilted her head. "You use fire magic?"

Instead of answering, Sylvia stepped forward, crouching by the tub. She lifted her right hand, and a violet-black flame curled from her fingertip a fire that carried not just heat but the deadly cold of death itself, perfectly under her control.

The Nether Flame crept across the water’s surface, warming it from below until thin steam began to rise. Lira froze, eyes widening.

"What... kind of fire is that?" she whispered.

"Not your concern," Sylvia said flatly, blowing the flame out. The water was now perfectly warm, like a natural hot spring.

Lira swallowed, then quickly stepped back. "Very well... I’ll leave you to your bath, Miss."

Sylvia gave a small nod without looking up, and the door closed behind the girl.

She removed her mantle first, laying it on the small chair by the door. Then her gown, layer by layer, until only pale skin remained. Her body bore the marks of battle thin scratches on her shoulder, faint bruises along her waist, and the shallow imprint of a bite on her left arm. The wounds were dry now, the weight in her muscles eased somewhat thanks to her skill Queen Flesh.

She stepped into the water, warmth wrapping her body at once. A quiet sigh slipped from her lips before she could stop it. The heat seemed to lift the tension from her back and neck.

"Ah... far better than any dungeon," she murmured.

Closing her eyes, she let each breath draw in calm. Steam filled the small room, mingling with the herbal scent of the soap dissolving slowly into the water.

For the first few minutes, she simply stayed still, listening to the faint movement of water each time she shifted. Her mind wandered to the Tower of Echoes, to the Ancient Titan, to that last roar before it bowed. To Celes’ face, likely waiting for news. To Alicia and Stacia, wherever they might be now... and to Sofia’s beautiful smile.

But little by little, those thoughts faded, replaced by a rare, deep stillness.

After nearly half an hour, she rose from the tub, water trailing down her black hair and following the curves of her body to drip onto the stone floor. She took a thick towel, drying herself slowly as she stood before the oval mirror. Her face looked fresher, though her eyes still carried the trace of exhaustion that warm water alone couldn’t erase.

She dressed in something simple, a loose, pale gray gown from her storage and stepped out of the bathroom.

Her stomach was starting to stir. She decided to head downstairs for dinner before turning in for the night.

The dining room was quieter now. Only three tables were occupied; most guests had already retired. The innkeeper greeted her from behind the bar. "Good evening again, Miss Sylvia. Would you like dinner now?"

"Yes. What’s special about tonight’s special?"

"We have venison stew with potatoes and root vegetables, warm whole-grain bread, and apple pie for dessert. Drink herbal tea or red wine."

"Stew, bread, and herbal tea," Sylvia answered.

It didn’t take long for the meal to arrive: a steaming bowl of rich, spiced stew, warm bread still releasing curls of heat, and a cup of fragrant tea.

She ate slowly. The stew was tender and full of flavor, the root vegetables adding a gentle sweetness. She tore the warm bread, dipped it into the broth, and bit down, deepening the savory taste.

After finishing, she returned to her room. The night outside was settling in; the sounds of the small town were fading. The only light from outside came as a soft glow through the balcony curtains.

She sat for a moment in the chair by the window, looking out, then slipped into the soft bed.

No tension of battle in the air, only the comfort of blankets and the lingering warmth of the bath on her skin.

Sylvia rolled onto her side, letting her head sink into a pillow far kinder than a dungeon’s cold stone floor. She pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and released a long breath, the sound mixing with the faint, clean scent of fresh linen.

Outside, the small town had gone almost entirely quiet. Now and then came the tap of footsteps on cobblestone or the creak of a cart’s wheels heading back to a warehouse. A night breeze slipped through the gap in the curtains, carrying a touch of cool air that brushed her face.

Her thoughts drifted, but this time without weight. No looming image of the Ancient Titan, no battle plans demanding attention. There was only a soothing relief, as if her body had finally understood it was allowed to rest without standing guard.

Her hand found a glass on the bedside table, and she took a slow sip. The cool water sharpened the gentle awareness that this was real; she had truly made it out.

Her red eyes traced the ceiling, following the faint shadows cast by the oil lamp on the wall. Her eyelids grew heavy, but a small smile still played at the corner of her mouth.

"Maybe... tonight I can actually sleep," she whispered.

The warmth still rising from her bath made the air around the bed feel comfortably soft. She turned over once more, hugged the pillow, and let her consciousness drift.

No dreams came at first, only quiet and a gentle warmth that wrapped around her like a soft mist. For Sylvia, the night at the Silver Moon was more than rest; it was a precious pause before the next step in a world that never stops moving.