The tavern was alive with heat and laughter. The clinking of mugs, the soft notes of string instruments in the corner, and the lingering smell of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filled the air. Alex leaned back against the chair, eyes scanning the crowd with calm detachment. His black hair shimmered faintly under the lantern light, his sharp gaze watching everything even while he sipped his wine.
It hadn't taken long for word of his feat in the dungeon to spread. By now, everyone in Avila's adventurer circles knew of Alex—the newcomer who had cut down a monster that even seasoned parties had little hope of facing. That power alone made him the center of gravity at the celebration. Conversations hushed when he passed, eyes followed his movements, and whenever he smiled faintly, people straightened unconsciously, as if they were basking in the approval of someone greater.
And of course, the women noticed.
