NOVPUB
Chapter 76: After-Party (II)
"I was considering it," Zayn admitted, stepping closer. "But then I remembered you’d probably drink yourself into a coma if I wasn’t here to stop you."
Bran cackled, slapping him on the back hard enough to jolt his spine. "That’s the spirit!"
Zayn huffed, rolling his shoulders.
Before he could say anything else, a bottle was shoved into his hands by one of the beastkin servers.
He glanced down at the foaming liquid, the scent of strong ale wafting up to his nose.
"Don’t be shy now," Bran teased. "Even Tobias is drinkin’."
Zayn arched a brow. "Tobias?"
He turned his head — and sure enough, Tobias was sitting at a table nearby, swirling a glass of something amber-colored in his hand.
He didn’t look particularly interested in drinking it, but the fact that he was holding it at all was surprising.
The spectacled mage adjusted his glasses before meeting Zayn’s gaze.
"I was... encouraged to partake," Tobias said, voice flat.
Zayn snorted.
Before he could make any more comments, someone else approached.
"Glad to see you made it."
He turned his head — only to find himself face to face with the half-elf receptionist. The cute one, yes.
The other one was far too rude.
Unlike her usual work attire, she was wearing something far more relaxed — an off-the-shoulder blouse that dipped just low enough to be dangerous and a pair of fitted leather pants.
Her hair was loosely braided over one shoulder, and her amber eyes gleamed in the dim lighting.
Zayn exhaled through his nose, bringing his drink to his lips. "Didn’t really have a choice."
She smirked. "No, you didn’t."
Before he could respond, she reached out, running a finger over the rim of his drink.
"Try not to drink too much, alright?" she murmured. Then, with a playful wink, she disappeared back into the crowd.
Zayn sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
’Why were half-elves always like this?’
Bran nudged him with an elbow. "Damn, man. You’ve got her wrapped around your finger, huh?"
Zayn shot him a flat look. "Shut up and drink, Bran."
Bran just laughed, raising his bottle high before chugging it down.
...
The energy in the GUILD hall was intoxicating.
Laughter, music, and the clinking of bottles filled the air, creating an atmosphere so different from the battle they had survived just hours ago.
Zayn sat at one of the long wooden tables, his fingers wrapped around the neck of a half-empty bottle of ale.
He had barely taken more than a sip.
His eyes drifted over the crowd, taking in the sight of his teammates.
Bran, the ever-loud warrior, had his arm slung around the elf woman he had been talking to earlier.
They were locked in a drinking contest now, both grinning ear to ear as they chugged straight from their bottles.
The elf’s silver hair cascaded over her shoulder as she tossed her head back, matching Bran drink for drink.
Further in the crowd, Tobias was talking — well, more like awkwardly nodding — at a group of mages who were excitedly discussing battle formations.
He kept adjusting his glasses, likely regretting his decision to stay for this long.
And then there was Elisse and Kara, standing together near the center of the room, their faces glowing with amusement as they watched the chaos unfold.
Elisse, ever the composed priestess, held a cup of what was probably non-alcoholic wine, her lips quirked in a small smile.
Her robe was loosened at the collar, and she seemed more relaxed than usual, no longer carrying the burdens of healing mid-battle.
Kara, on the other hand, was the opposite of composed.
She wore a fitted tunic and snug leather pants that showed off her toned figure, her auburn hair tied up in a loose ponytail.
She was laughing, the sound rich and warm, as she leaned against the table.
Zayn exhaled.
Seeing them like this, it was almost impossible to believe that just a few hours ago, they had been fighting for their lives in a collapsing dungeon.
That they had faced a monstrous skeletal dragon, dodged death at every turn, and nearly shattered their bodies pushing past their limits.
And yet, here they were.
He turned back to his bottle.
His fingers tapped against the glass in thought.
He should be happy, he knew that. They had survived, they had won, and for once, there were no enemies waiting just around the corner.
So why did he feel so detached?
The celebration was loud — too loud.
The room felt crowded, and the laughter almost sounded distant. He wasn’t in the mood to drink, to smile, to pretend. He just wanted to disappear for a bit.
Maybe back to his room.
He placed the bottle down, pushing himself up from his seat, hoping no one would notice as he moved toward the exit.
But just as he turned —
A warm hand grabbed his wrist.
Zayn blinked, looking down.
Kara’s fingers were wrapped around his arm, her grip firm but playful.
When he met her gaze, her honey-colored eyes were filled with mischief.
"And just where do you think you’re sneaking off to, handsome?" she teased.
Zayn sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just... heading out. I’m not really in the mood for all this."
Kara narrowed her eyes, tilting her head.
"Not in the mood?" She took a step closer, the scent of ale and wildflowers clinging to her. "You do realize we just survived a legendary dungeon raid, right? You’re allowed to have fun."
He glanced at Elisse, who was watching with mild amusement but didn’t seem like she was going to intervene.
"I know," he muttered. "I just — "
Kara cut him off, a smirk playing at her lips.
"You fought like hell today," she said, stepping even closer. "We fought like hell. And for once, we all made it out alive. So what’s stopping you from celebrating that?"
Zayn hesitated. He didn’t know how to answer.
Kara’s smirk softened into something gentler.
"C’mon," she coaxed, squeezing his wrist. "One drink. One dance. And if you still want to sulk in your room after that, I promise I won’t stop you."
Zayn exhaled, his resistance crumbling under the weight of her insistence.
"Fine," he muttered. "One drink."
Kara’s grin widened. "That’s the spirit!"
Before he could change his mind, she dragged him straight into the heart of the celebration.
The moment they reached the center of the room, someone shoved a full bottle into his hands, the rich scent of spiced ale filling his nose.
"Drink," Kara urged, nudging his arm.
Zayn rolled his eyes but took a sip.
The ale was smooth, with a hint of honey and cinnamon, warming his throat as it went down.
Kara grinned. "See? Not so bad."
Before he could respond, the music shifted — something more upbeat, something meant for dancing. The adventurers cheered, some grabbing partners and pulling them toward the open floor.
Kara didn’t hesitate.
"Alright, mister broody," she said, grabbing his wrist again. "Time to dance."
Zayn stiffened. "Wait, what — "
It was already too late...
