Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)-Chapter 346: The Small Inn and The White Shadow (2)

Third Person’s POV

As they entered the insides of the inn, the space widened into what looked like a small, rustic tavern.

A few round tables were scattered around, most empty, and in one corner stood a tall woman cleaning a cup behind the wooden counter.

She wore glasses that slid low on her nose, and her pale skin, along with her subtle aura of elegance, made it clear she was no ordinary barkeep.

When her gaze found Virelle, her face broke into a wide smile, and she offered a graceful nod of recognition.

But then her eyes drifted to Ethan, and something like surprise briefly crossed her features. It wasn’t just that he was unfamiliar, but the fact that he was a little unexpected and unknown.

Clearly, she was trying to place him and likely filtering through memories of vampire nobles and notable lineages she knew, but failing to place Ethan among them.

Just then, a cheerful voice called out from the back of the room.

"Virelle! Here... come over! I was just waiting for you!"

Ethan turned in the direction of the voice, and for a split second, his brows rose in surprise.

Sitting comfortably at a sunlit table near the window was a tall, broad-shouldered young man.

His skin was pale, his curly blond hair slightly tousled, while his vibrant crystal-red eyes glimmered with familiarity.

There was a natural confidence in the way he carried himself, relaxed but alert, like a veteran fighter who didn’t need to flaunt his strength.

While he was waving his hand, the man’s gaze swept past Virelle and naturally landed on Ethan beside her.

His cheerful expression froze for a moment, and then widened in surprise as a flicker of recognition lit his eyes.

"Hmm... Eryndor? Is that really you?"

Ethan smiled faintly, and a flicker of nostalgia passed through him as memories surfaced, memories of their encounter more than two years ago during his visit to the shadowy city of Scarlet Hollow, and of their chaotic battle against that deranged old woman deep beneath the earth.

That fight had forged a connection, though brief, and now, after years of growth and change, it was almost surreal to stand here and meet again.

The man stood up, and his eyes scanned Ethan’s taller, more mature frame.

Time had clearly refined Ethan as his shoulders had broadened, and his presence had become steadier.

He had grown, not just physically, but in the quiet, resolute aura that only those who had fought through storms carried.

And from the look in the man’s eyes, he could see it too.

"Hello, Victor. Long time no see."

Ethan offered a faint smile, and his casual greeting carried a subtle warmth, though his gaze had already drifted beyond the golden-haired man.

Just behind the lit table, a patch of unnatural darkness clung to the wall like a stubborn shadow, though it was too distinct in the sun-washed room.

Seeing that figure, his grin widened and became laced with quiet amusement."I can see that you are also doing quite well, Mister Lucien..."

He let his words trail deliberately, as if hanging a baited hook into the charged silence.

Hearing his words, a figure emerged from the darkness, with the slow grace of an ominous tide.

A tall and brooding young man, with the pallor of a marble statue and the expression to match, stepped into the light.

As he met Ethan’s gaze, his handsome face remained stiff and unsmiling while his eyes remained hard as obsidian.

This time, he showed no pretense and no sign of fake cordiality, just open displeasure simmering beneath the cool surface.

But the moment his attention shifted to Virelle, the frost cracked, and he instantly offered a faint smile.

He started walking toward their position, and reaching forward, he tried to take her hand in a greeting meant to be genteel.

However, Virelle moved with elegant instinct and sidestepped the gesture with practiced ease as she had no interest in letting a person she detested kiss her hand.

She moved so naturally that she neither allowed him the satisfaction nor made it awkward.

Instead, she turned and hugged her brother, Victor, as if Lucien hadn’t even existed in that moment.

Seeing that Ethan could see that the burn Virelle had given him was subtle indeed, but brutal at the same time.

As he watched the exchange with a hint of mischief dancing in his crimson eyes, Ethan flashed Lucien a mockingly polite smile and then, dismissing him outright, he followed Virelle and Victor to their table and sat beside them, while the earlier tension dissolving into the warm sunlight pouring through the wide windows.

He gazed outside at the pastoral beauty, the gently swaying trees and the glint of the lake far below—and asked in a tone bordering casual curiosity,"Is this a vampire stronghold in this place?"

Victor was just about to answer when the bell above the inn’s door chimed again, its soft ring slicing clean through the air.

Ethan turned automatically, and what he saw at the threshold sent a bolt of stunned excitement through his entire body.

A woman had entered his vision while wearing midnight black robes with beautiful silver motifs at its edges and waist portion.

She looked no older than her early twenties, yet the moment she entered the inn, her presence sucked the air out of the room.

As she walked, her sleek and smooth jet-black hair cascaded like liquid silk down her back and caught the light with each step.

Her twin obsidian-black dragon horns were elegant, as they rose like dark crowns above her head.

But what struck Ethan next was not just the power she exuded, but the feminine allure wrapped around it.

Her robes, though grand and layered, couldn’t conceal the full curves of her chest that strained ever so slightly against the fine fabric.

Her beauty was flawless, unnaturally so. Seeing her smooth oval face, lips like inked velvet, and eyes that gleamed like twin suns eclipsed in gold, Ethan’s heart skipped a beat as he knew who she was.