The moonlight filtered through the windows of the inn, casting a soft glow across the wooden floors. The group slept soundly in their rooms, exhausted from the battles and the long trek through the dungeon.
But JC couldn't sleep.
He had been watching from the shadows long enough. The safe floor had given the group a rare chance to relax, but JC knew what lurked beyond this sanctuary. He knew the challenges ahead would test them in ways they couldn't imagine.
As the village grew quieter, JC slipped from his hiding spot and entered the inn. The warmth of the fire greeted him, crackling softly in the hearth. The dining area was empty, the chairs pushed neatly under the tables.
---
A Familiar Presence
JC removed his cloak, letting it fall onto the back of a chair. His white hair shimmered faintly in the firelight, cascading down his back in waves. His face, though familiar, carried an air of maturity that hadn't been there before. His jawline was sharper, his eyes more intense.
The tattoos on his arms seemed to pulse faintly, intricate patterns that glowed softly with mana. Each symbol told a story—a testament to the years of training and trials he had endured in the north.
JC sat at the table, his fingers laced together as he stared into the fire. His stoic expression betrayed little of the thoughts swirling in his mind.
---
A Quiet Resolve
He had left them to grow stronger, to become the adventurers they were destined to be. But seeing them now—stronger, yes, but still vulnerable—he realized they weren't ready for what awaited them in the deeper floors of the dungeon.
"I left to protect you," he muttered to himself, his voice low but resolute. "And now I see… I can't do this from the shadows anymore."
JC leaned back in the chair, the faint hum of mana coursing through his tattoos. He glanced at the stairs leading to their rooms. For a moment, he considered waking them, revealing himself fully. But no. Not yet. They needed rest, and he needed a plan.
---
Preparing for the Unknown
As the hours stretched on, JC remained seated, mapping out strategies in his mind. His eyes flicked to his staff, which Jackson had taken. A faint smirk crossed his lips.
"He's bold, I'll give him that," JC murmured.
By dawn, he would make his decision. Whether they were ready to see him or not, he would ensure their survival in this dungeon. For now, though, he allowed himself this brief moment of quiet, the firelight reflecting in his sharp, crimson eyes.
The tattoos on his arms glowed a little brighter, a silent promise to himself and the team he had left behind.
Tomorrow, everything would change.