The next morning, Raven's bar was still bathed in soft twilight, with the smell of old wood, roasted coffee, and a faint aroma of magical herbs floating in the air. The soft soundtrack of enchanted strings played quietly in the background, the kind of music that made time seem to slow down. The sun had barely touched the rooftops of the Upper City, and the silence was almost reverent at that sacred hour when the drunks had already left and the hunters were still recovering from their early morning missions.

Kael slowly descended the stairs, his hair still slightly messy and his eyes half-closed, betraying a night of poor sleep—or not much sleep at all. His black tunic was wrinkled, and a reddish mark on his neck almost looked like the work of a hungry beast. He adjusted his collar, trying to cover it up, but it was useless.

As soon as he stepped into the main hall, Raven was already there. Standing behind the counter, as if she had never slept. She probably hadn't. She was dressed more casually than usual — an open leather vest over a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, fitted pants, and a dagger discreetly tucked into her left boot. When she looked up from the glasses she was drying, the smile that appeared on her lips was pure scorn.

"Good morning, Prince Charming."

Kael let out a deep sigh, stopping a few steps from the counter. "Don't even start."

Raven raised an eyebrow, as if she were innocent, and tilted her head slightly.

"Start what?"

"You know what."

"Oh... that..." she said with an even more mischievous smile, resting her elbows on the counter and looking at him with that feline expression. "I didn't think you were that kind of man."

Kael snorted, running his hand through his hair and looking away. "Whatever. It wasn't my fault."

"It never is, is it?" Raven retorted, crossing her arms. "But so what? Was it good, at least?"

Kael gave her a blank stare. Not out of anger, but out of pure existential exhaustion.

"Do you really want to get into this kind of conversation?"

"I just want to see if you're going to faint in the middle of the little girl's next feeding." Raven laughed. "Succubi aren't exactly known for... moderation. She came down here scared after you fainted."

"She..." Kael tried to reason, but simply said, "It's not my fault, anyway."

Raven laughed loudly this time, the laughter sounding like a sword being elegantly unsheathed. "No, it's not, I know."

Kael just sighed and pulled up one of the stools in front of the counter. He sat down with the weight of someone who had faced more than just monsters in dungeons—perhaps the most dangerous monster of all: unsolicited emotional intimacy.

Raven once again raised her eyebrow, but her expression softened. She turned and, without saying a word, took a dark ceramic mug from a shelf above her head. A quick gesture, an almost imperceptible incantation, and the mug filled with steaming liquid.

"Wait a minute, big guy. Here." She pushed the mug toward him. "Just because you're in a bar doesn't mean you can't have breakfast."

Kael stared at the mug as if it might explode at any moment.

"This isn't poisoned, is it?"

"Honey... if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it yesterday when you made that comment about my sex life."

Kael took the mug with some reluctance, but said nothing more. He brought it to his lips and drank. The taste was strong, almost bitter, but incredibly comforting. A hint of cinnamon. Perhaps an energy spell contained there as well.

"...Thank you," he said after a few seconds, with restrained sincerity.

"You're welcome. Caffeine improves your mood." Raven leaned back on the counter. "So? Are you going to tell me what happened? Like... how does a succubus manage to drink so much semen until you pass out, or do you want to leave that for another time?"

Kael rested his elbows on the counter and rubbed his face with both hands, letting out another long sigh. "You wanted to be in her place, huh? That sounds like jealousy to me."

"...What do you mean?" Raven asked.

"Well, it's what it sounds like," Kael shrugged, teasing Raven.

Raven was silent for a moment.

Dangerous silence.

The kind of silence that precedes an explosion or a well-aimed punch. She stared at Kael for several seconds, her amber eyes shining with a mixture of disbelief, amusement... and perhaps a hint of something else that was harder to name.

"…You're brave," she said, her voice low and controlled, but with a hint of laughter behind it. "Very brave. And very little love for life, apparently."

Kael shrugged, taking another sip of coffee as if it would shield him from imminent danger. "I survived my mother throwing me off a cliff when I was six. This is nothing compared to that."

"Oh, sure. Comparing a traumatized succubus to your psychotic mother makes perfect sense," Raven replied, leaning on the counter with both hands. "But you know what? You're right. I am jealous."

Kael raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"...You're going to admit that so easily?"

"Yes," she said, with a calmness that bordered on cynicism. "Jealous of your ability to be a complete idiot and still keep breathing."

Kael almost spit out his coffee, but he held his ground, just pursing his lips. "Wise as always, Raven."

"And you keep that 'I didn't do anything' look on your face while that succubus got drunk on sperm up there." She straightened up, taking another cup for herself and pouring herself the same coffee. "Ah, how tiring it is to deal with perverted children."

Kael leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the dark liquid inside the mug. "For someone who's tired, you sure like to talk about my fluids."

"You're unbearable. Are you always like this?"

"Only when people talk about my dick openly like that."

Raven watched Kael walk away with the empty mug in his hands, his shoulders still slightly slumped from physical and mental exhaustion. He was about to comment on the previous conversation—perhaps a sarcastic response, or a final provocation. But before he could open his mouth, she turned on her heels and forced a change of subject with an almost theatrical lightness.

"So?" she said, her voice more cheerful, completely ignoring whatever he was about to say. "What are you going to do today, my elite wizard?"

Kael blinked, interrupted mid-thought, and looked at her with his usual expression—a mixture of apathy and distrust. "I'm going to the Freedom League to get my adventurer's license."

Raven rested her elbows on the counter again, her eyes narrowing with genuine interest. "Hmm... do you already have a staff?"

He frowned. "Staff?"

"Yes. Staff. That thing wizards use to look serious and mysterious. Concentrated magic, mana channeling, arcane symbolism. That sort of thing."

Kael let out a sigh, as if the idea offended him. "I've never used a staff. It's useless to me."

Raven couldn't help but burst out laughing. One of those loud, open, almost scandalous laughs—so rare that even some of the adventurers in the hall turned around reflexively.

"You...!" She had to lean on the counter to keep from falling over. "You're really going to show up there saying you're a wizard... without a staff?!"

Kael crossed his arms, already visibly annoyed. "What's the problem with that? I use magic better than any of those idiots in the tower."

"Kael, Kael..." She shook her head, still laughing. "You're so powerful... and so naive at the same time, it's cute."

"Cute?" he repeated with disgust in his voice.

"Yes, like a baby dragon thinking it can fly without breaking its neck." Raven stared at him with a sly smile. "You have to keep up appearances, idiot. The guild license serves both to classify your strength and to protect the city from uncontrolled lunatics. If you show up there looking like a swordsman, using magic without intonation, and with nothing to suggest you're a mage... the least that will happen is they'll be suspicious of you. The most... well, the most is someone will try to kill you as a precaution."

"You're exaggerating."

"Kael. You're the grandson of the most feared witch on the continent. Do you really think you can walk around unleashing cutting wind without a measly staff and no one will raise an eyebrow?" She raised a finger. "Image matters. Authority, confidence, security. A staff serves that purpose. It's a symbol. Even if you don't need it, others think you do. And that's all that matters."

Kael rubbed his chin, pondering. "...It's just pretense."

"Of course it's pretense. Do you think the wizards of the silver tower strike a pose and recite three minutes of spells because they need to? It's theater. A show. A ritual to fool the ignorant. And it works."

"...So you're saying I need a fake staff?"

"Not a fake one. A good staff." She pointed her chin toward the back wall. "That old blacksmith who lives two streets down has a brother who makes arcane weapons. Tell him I sent you. Maybe he can get you something that looks decent."

Kael let out a deep sigh. "I hate that part of the civilized world."

Raven laughed again, but more lightly this time. "Welcome to society, Kael Scarlet. Where appearance is more important than truth, and theater is as important as the sword."

He was silent for a moment, then rose from his chair, cracking his shoulders.

"All right. I'll get that damn staff."

"Good choice." Raven turned to get another glass, then added, without looking at him, "And Kael?"

"Hm?"

"Choose a nice one. An ugly staff doesn't suit the grandson of the Witch Queen." She looked over her shoulder and winked. "You have a reputation to uphold now."

Kael just snorted and walked out the door, muttering something about "overpriced pieces of wood." But deep down... he knew Raven was right.