Chapter 149: A Drink Before Words
A Drink Before Words
Shawn inhaled slowly. Then—he spoke. "I have come here to apologize."
Victor heard him. For a brief moment, he said nothing, simply watching the man in front of him—the steadiness in his posture, the discipline in his voice, the restraint that barely concealed everything beneath. Then Victor’s lips curved slightly, not mocking... but not entirely kind either.
"Well, I’m okay with that," he said, tone easy, almost casual, "but before you get to apologizing, how about we get a drink first?"
Without pause, he shifted direction. Like the choice had been made long before. A small motion of his hand pulled Shawn along. Not asking. More like offering something firm but calm.
For just a moment, Shawn stopped. Then he breathed in deep.
Then followed.
Right away, the air changed when they entered the bar inside the Adventurers Guild.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
But noticeably.
Voices lowered.
Conversations paused mid-sentence.
Eyes turned.
Footsteps kept moving. Victor passed between tables without pause, eyes ahead, silence folding around him like old habit. Boards groaned beneath heavy steps while smoke curled from trenchers of brown meat. Light clung low to the room, painting reach of arms and weapons in dusty gold. Strangers watched but never spoke, their stares sliding off shoulders built wide from years he did not explain.
And yet -
Where he passed -
People moved.
He came into view, then every man by the middle table went still. A gulp passed through one throat, eyes dropped in another, their chairs scraping back before silence took over. Gone just like that, rising together though nobody spoke. Fast steps, lowered voices, no argument at all.
It was obvious. They already knew what had to happen.
Because they knew.
Though Victor held just a B-rank title, what came with his name weighed more than any label. In spots like this, whispers rarely stayed quiet for long. Talk spread fast. Faces fixed on names they couldn’t forget. His stuck around.
Alone, with just two others at his side, he walked away after the fight with the necromancer. Not everyone made it out. His breath steady, eyes fixed on what remained.
Alive he came, when others stayed behind.
And more importantly -
A few folks watched his fights before. Sometimes he moved so fast they could barely follow.
It stayed clear, sharp as ever.
This is one person best left alone.
Shawn noticed it.
He would have done it, naturally.
Across the room his gaze moved, noting each small shift in posture. Not one of the experienced travelers met Victor’s glance. Even those quick to boast held their tongues now.
Respect?
No.
Fear.
He wasn’t alone in thinking that, Shawn realized without speaking.
Into the seat he slid, Victor arriving at last by that chosen table, posture loose like ownership needed no announcement. A breath passed before Shawn came along, dragging the opposite chair into place, then lowering himself into it.
For a moment, there was silence. Words waited behind his lips, still untold.
He watched.
Studied.
He looked away instead.
Instead -
A bit louder came his voice now.
"Hey, two drinks over here. Also give us some food!"
Beyond the polished wood, a barmaid gave a swift nod, her hands busy before she even spoke.
A hush dropped over the two. Stillness crept in where words had been.
Yet inside something remained.
Leaning on the table, Victor let his gaze drift back to Shawn, gold eyes steady. A pause settled in before he shifted slightly, attention locked once more.
"So," he said lightly, "what were you saying?"
A flicker of focus tightened his eyes.
"You came to apologize... what exactly are you apologizing for?"
There it was.
Direct.
His eyes stayed fixed ahead. Still locked on what stood before him.
Yet his grip curled just a touch more around his own leg. Still, the small shift broke the stillness. Even quiet moments held tension now. A single movement spoke volumes without sound.
It started with a breath. He said nothing at first - just stopped, not because he doubted, but to gather hold. Then came the words, clear and solid.
"First, I want to apologize for my brother’s behavior."
Victor didn’t interrupt.
Shawn continued.
"I know he has offended you... in some way," he said, choosing his words carefully. "And as his elder brother... I take responsibility for that."
A small tension crept into his jaw. He didn’t speak, just held it there - still.
"I will re-educate him. Properly this time. He will learn discipline... and respect."
Heavy truth pressed into each syllable. Words carried more than sound that day.
Not empty promises.
Not excuses.
Intent.
"And..." Shawn continued, his tone lowering slightly, "I also need to apologize on behalf of my subordinates."
He exhaled quietly.
"I am aware they acted... improperly."
A brief pause.
Then -
His gaze dropped downward.
Not slightly.
Not casually.
Fully.
"As their commander, that responsibility falls on me."
The movement was simple.
Yet right then -
Heavy silence filled the space between us. What followed mattered less than what was left unsaid.
A Man Like Shawn
A knight commander -
Lowering his head.
Two times within a single day.
His sibling made it happen.
His shoulders stayed tight even as he lowered his head. In fact, the strain showed clearer now - pride pressed into silence, frustration held in place by sheer control.
This again...
Yet his gaze stayed fixed on the floor.
Not yet.
Opposite sat Victor, his eyes still. Quiet filled the space between them.
No reaction.
No immediate response.
Just observation.
A mug landed on the table, then another, carried by someone who moved without speaking. Plates followed, sliding into place beside the drinks. Noise cracked through stillness - wood hitting stone, metal chiming - more sharp than normal because nothing else broke the quiet.
First, Victor reached for his glass.
A breath held. The cup lifted. Liquid moved downward, inch by inch.
Only then -
Did he speak.
"You’re serious about this," he said.
That statement carried no uncertainty.
His chin rose just a bit, eyes locking with Victor’s once more.
"I am."
For just a beat more, Victor watched. Then stillness settled between them.
Then -
Out of nowhere, a small grin showed up again.
"Fine," he replied without fuss.
A quiet rhythm began under his fingertips, nudging the warm cup. Back he shifted, just a breath away from the edge.
"You know," he added casually, "most people would’ve tried to justify it."
A quiet shift crossed Shawn’s face, his gaze tightening just a touch.
"I’m not most people."
Victor chuckled.
"No," he replied, a hint of laughter in his voice, "that you aren’t."
A silence came next.
Forward he leaned, just a bit, elbow finding the table’s edge.
"But here’s the thing," he continued, his tone shifting just a little - less casual, more grounded. "An apology only matters if something actually changes."
For a moment, Shawn stayed quiet. Then came nothing but silence again.
"I don’t care about words," Victor added calmly. "I care about what happens after this."
Silence.
Then -
Shawn nodded.
"...Understood."
There was no hesitation in that answer.
For just one more moment, Victor kept his eyes on the man.
Then -
He smiled again.
"Relax," he said, taking another sip of his drink. "If I wanted to make a problem out of this... I wouldn’t be sitting here."
That line -
Was simple.
But clear.
Shawn exhaled slowly.
Not relief.
Not entirely.
But something close.
Still, the space between them stayed tight. Not once did it ease up.
But it changed.
From confrontation -
To something quieter.
Measured.
His eyes skimmed the room before settling on Shawn again.
"So," he said, almost casually again, "you planning to just sit there all stiff, or are you actually going to drink?"
The cup sat there, right under Shawn’s stare.
Then at Victor.
Now, after silence held between them since talking began -
A small twitch tugged at one side of his lips.
Just slightly.
"...I suppose," he said, reaching for the drink, "it would be rude not to."
Victor smirked faintly.
"Now that sounds better."