Chapter 12: Levaerûn: The Lawless Town Prt 2

Morning broke over the lawless town of Lavaerûn.

I stretched my arms, letting out a deep breath as I sat on the rooftop of the inn. The golden sun bathed the horizon, casting light over the vast green plains surrounding the settlement and the shadowed mass of the forest we'd emerged from. The world looked so calm from up here—almost peaceful.

Below, the marketplace was stirring to life. From this height, the contrast between night and day was jarring. Gone were the cages and the predatory gazes. In their place were open stalls, loud haggling, and a diverse crowd flowing through the streets. It almost looked like a regular town now.

The slave shops were still there, tucked behind iron gates, but their wares were hidden from sight. The same went for the brothels—the garish barkers had vanished, and signs of nighttime trade were neatly swept away.

Despite the shady dealings under moonlight, there was structure here. Community, even.

And to my surprise, humans were among the crowd now—mingling, trading, chatting with beastkin like it was the most natural thing in the world. It didn't match what Rudolf told me: that humans were hunted and hated. Maybe the ones here weren't summoned like me—maybe they were born here.

Still, that begged the question… where did the slave humans come from?

My thoughts were interrupted as the rooftop door creaked open.

"Oh! Good morning, mister," said a familiar voice.

I turned to see the wolf girl from last night, waving with a casual smile. She carried a bundle of laundry and walked over to the metal clothesline.

"Nice view up here," I said.

She tilted her head, tail swaying lazily. "Really? I guess I'm used to it."

I stood beside her as she clipped clothes to the line. "This town is… odd."

She glanced at me, her smile never faltering. "Maybe. I was born here, so it feels normal to me."

"When I arrived, the place practically screamed 'we hate humans.' Then I met your dad—a kind human running an inn in the middle of all this."

"You mean my father?"

"Wait—real father?"

She snorted. "Why? Can't you see the resemblance?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I mean... sort of?"

"I am his daughter. A legitimate one," she said with a cheeky wink.

I chuckled awkwardly. The silence hung thick for a moment until she broke it.

"Those female humans you saw last night?" she said, not looking at me. "They were once nobles. Members of the great aristocratic Houses—Lawrence, Riverdale, and Gundhr. They used to be allied with the Capital's royal family. The same family that makes the whole continent tremble."

I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

"They ran this place like a slave empire," she continued. "Didn't matter what race you were—demon, beastkin, even some humans. If you weren't part of them, you were property. Lavaerûn was the heart of their trade."

"And Rafaela?" I asked, my voice low. "She was bought here?"

The wolf girl nodded. "Most likely. Ten years ago, everything changed. A rebellion started—sparked by someone no one expected. Those nobles were overthrown, and now…" She trailed off, then looked me in the eye. "What they did to others is now being done to them. You know the saying—'a taste of your own medicine?'"

"Yeah," I muttered.

"And my father?" I asked, though I had a feeling I already knew.

"He was one of the first to rise up," she said proudly. "A minor noble who lit the fire that burned the old world down."

She turned away and went back to hanging clothes, leaving me with a thousand thoughts swirling in my head.

When I returned to our room, Rafaela was already up. I suggested grabbing breakfast, and we set out into the town together.

To my surprise, Lavaerûn had actual restaurants. Not fancy by Capital standards, but real eateries with tables, menus, and waitresses running from table to table to keep up with the demand.

We found one tucked on a street corner and stepped inside. The place was buzzing—demi-humans of all types packed the room. We took one of the few empty seats, and a cheerful yellow-haired cat-girl waitress zipped over.

"May I take your order, Mister?" she asked with a bright smile.

I flipped open the menu. Strangely enough, I could read it just fine—another perk from the summoning spell, maybe, along with these cursed horns and glowing red eyes.

While I scanned the menu, a red-haired man approached our table.

"There are no seats left. Mind if I join you?" he asked politely. Fox ears twitched above his head, and he wore a sleek, jet-black coat.

I gestured to the empty stool. "Sure. Go ahead."

He sat down, but almost instantly, three waitresses rushed over and began bowing frantically.

"Please forgive us, Master Xin! We'll prepare a private table right away!"

He raised a hand to stop them, laughing lightly. "No need. I'd rather sit here. These two look like good company. Now, may I order?"

The staff scrambled to take his order, and I realized—this guy's a big deal.

He had that noble presence: clean, tailored clothes, perfect posture, and a calm confidence that didn't need to shout to be heard.

"I can wait," he said, motioning to me. "Let the guest order first."

The waitress returned to us, and I asked Rafaela, "Have you picked something?"

Misha nodded and pointed at an item. I followed her lead and ordered a beef stew for myself.

As the waitress vanished into the kitchen, I looked around the packed restaurant.

"Is it always like this?" I asked.

Xin nodded. "Most days. This place attracts all sorts—wandering beastkin, adventurers, merchants, people hoping to take over a faction or two."

"Faction leaders?" I asked, intrigued.

He just smirked. "You really are new here."

"Arrived last night."

"Thought so. You don't seem like the type looking to conquer territory. So what brings a man to Lavaerûn with his daughter in tow?"

Rafaela tilted her head curiously, and I let out a laugh.

"She's not my daughter," I said, patting her head. "I'm not that old."

Before Xin could reply, our food arrived—and sweet heavens, it looked divine.

After a month of dry, grilled meat on sticks, the smell of slow-cooked beef stew made me want to cry. I took a bite and nearly melted in my seat.

This... this is salvation.

Meanwhile, Rafaela ate calmly, chewing like she was having another bland meal. No joy, no sparkle in her eyes.

I stared at her.

"Seriously... what's wrong with your taste buds?"