After clearing all ten dungeons, Asher and the others returned to Evolvers' Paradise. The city still had much to offer—they had just finished the auction of the dungeon gates, but aside from that, there were many other things of interest here.
They chose a quiet corner table at one of the smaller restaurants near the eastern square. The place overlooked the edge of the city, where the stone roads gave way to distant forests and open skies. Simple dishes were served—grilled meat, steamed roots, and bowls of hot broth. Nothing too rich, just solid food after days of intense dungeon clearing.
Veyra sat quietly for a moment, slowly eating, her left sleeve pinned up where her arm had not fully regenerated. It was already beginning to regrow—flesh forming gradually thanks to Asher's help—but for now, the absence felt strange.
Valeris noticed her staring at the empty sleeve.
"It'll come back stronger," she said simply.
Veyra gave a short nod. "I know. I don't mind it, really. Losing it in that fight… it felt fair. He was the strongest one yet."
Asher leaned back slightly, resting his arm on the bench. "Knight of Storm wasn't just strong. He was precise. Even someone talented might get lost to him."
"You're not helping," Veyra said dryly, though a small smirk tugged at the edge of her mouth.
Valeris took a sip of the spiced broth, then looked at Veyra seriously. "That reminds me. You've fought beside us, bled beside us. But we still don't know much about your life. Not really."
"I mean," she continued, "we know the basics. You were the youngest, talented daughter of House Varnis. Then the parasite twisted your skills, you fell ill, and Asher saved you. And now you're here with us. But what about everything in between? What happened during those years? Where did you go? I'd like to know."
Veyra leaned back slightly in her seat, her fingers brushing the rim of her bowl.
"I didn't always think I'd live long enough to have stories," she admitted. "But after I left my clan—or rather, after they stopped caring—I wandered."
Her gaze drifted toward the window as her voice turned softer, steadier.
"I went south first. Ended up in the Quenched Deserts near the Bonewind Expanse. That place doesn't forgive weakness. I disguised myself as a caravan guard, even when my body was barely holding together. Got attacked by sand wraiths once—ghosts that steal your memories instead of your blood. I barely escaped. Lost two days of my life. To this day, I can't recall what happened during that time."
Asher listened quietly, arms folded, while Valeris leaned forward, rapt.
"After that, I drifted east. There was a ruined fortress called Kaerharn's Hold, hidden in the Redroot Marshes. Locals believed it was cursed, avoided it completely. I camped there for a month. Not because I was brave—because I had nowhere else to go. Turns out, something was still living in the ruins. Not a ghost. A creature made of stitched flesh and forgotten spells. It thought I was its creator returning."
"What did you do?" Valeris asked.
"I played along," Veyra said, a small smile on her lips. "Learned what it knew. In return, it taught me how to silence my presence. That's how I developed my first real stealth ability—not magic, not technique. Just... listening to the breath of the world and hiding between heartbeats."
She paused, then added more quietly, "I buried it before I left. It started breaking down. I think it had waited too long."
Asher's eyes narrowed slightly. "You learned from everything you survived."
"Yes," Veyra said. "I never found a purpose during those years. Just kept going. Town to town. Realm to realm. In Riverfall Valley, I was nearly executed for practicing forbidden cultivation—blood-based healing techniques that scared the local sect. In Hollow Eaves, I stole from a minor lord just to afford a soul crystal to stabilize myself. Then I moved on again."
She looked up at them both now.
"But I never belonged anywhere. Not until now."
Valeris met her eyes. "You belong here. With us. You've proven that."
"If you had run away from home, how come we found you back at House Varnis?" Asher asked.
Veyra smiled warily and said, "Well… I thought I had escaped. But when my condition worsened, they found me and brought me back. I was too weak to resist."
"And when the symptoms fully set in," she continued, "I was immobilized. They didn't understand what was happening. At the time, we all thought it was some kind of curse or a punishment passed down through the bloodline. That's why my father panicked and sent for the best healers he could find."
She looked at Asher with a faint, grateful smile.
"And then you came. You saw through it all, exposed the parasite, and saved me."
Veyra stirred the last of her broth before setting the bowl down, her expression softening. "You've both heard parts of my story now… but what about yours?"
This chapter is updated by Novel~Fire. (n)et
She looked at Asher first. "You're powerful. Skilled. Too skilled for someone who just wandered into this world. You carry yourself like someone who's survived far worse than a few dungeon dives. What was your life before all this?"
Then she turned to Valeris. "And you… you always seem like you know more than you're letting on. Ancient things. Sacred things. You speak to the world like it listens to you—and sometimes, it feels like it does."
She leaned back, folding her arms. "You've both saved me, fought beside me. But I want to know who I'm fighting beside now. Not just the legends… the people."
She smiled faintly, but her eyes were serious.
"I want to know your stories. The real ones."
Asher looked at her and said, "Well, I've already accepted you as one of my own, so it won't hurts to tell you"
He glanced at Veyra, and hearing his words, she felt strangely good inside—warm, comforted, and just a little bit charmed.
Valeris smiled softly as she looked between Asher and Veyra. "Okay, I'll go first," she said, nodding gently. "I'll tell you the story of the Dragon Queen—how I came to be who I am, and how I met Asher."