Chapter 224: Rudeus Wants to Share a Room with Allen

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"Apologies, but we only have one room left."

"60 Asura copper coins. No foreign currency accepted."

Silence fell within a three-meter radius of the front desk.

Allen's expression remained unchanged, his smile still in place as he locked eyes with the receptionist. The receptionist blinked, then smiled back.

But the smiles belonged only to them.

The other four had completely lost control of their facial expressions.

Each was lost in their own world:

Sylphie, still reeling from the words "Love Nest" written on the inn's sign, muttered, "Huh? O-One room? Then… how… we'd need at least three more—"

Then she froze.

Her face turned beet red as she realized what she'd just blurted out. She frantically glanced at Allen, relieved to see he didn't seem to have heard, then checked the others—their expressions were varied, but no one had caught her slip-up. She exhaled quietly.

Isolte stood dumbfounded, her usual calm demeanor shattered. Her eyes twitched slightly, her usual half-lidded gaze now wide open.

The conversation reminded her of childhood dojo sleepovers, where they'd spread bedding on the floor—Allen, her brother, and her, discussing Water God techniques late into the night.

She didn't mind sharing a room.

But one bed?

That was…

Her mind blanked.

Eris, meanwhile, looked utterly unfazed. She finally tore her gaze from the sign ("Mortalt") and scanned the group, her expression almost… excited?

She knew about relationships in the abstract, but phrases like "Love Nest" sailed right over her head. In her ten years of life, she'd only ever seen massive beds—her own, or Hilda's. The idea of sharing one didn't strike her as odd.

If anything, she was looking forward to it. Sleepovers sound fun!

Then her brow furrowed.

She whipped her head toward Rudeus.

Rudeus, meanwhile, was having a full-blown internal crisis.

This has to be a scam.

But the receptionist's smile seemed genuine.

Normally, his perverted brain would've already conjured a dozen inappropriate scenarios. But right now, all he felt was dread.

Something was very wrong.

Before he could pinpoint it, Eris's gaze locked onto him.

She frowned, then—

Her eyes lit up.

She looked out the window.

Rudeus followed her gaze.

Outside: a stable.

And the horses were actively shitting.

Rudeus's jaw dropped.

Oh.

OH NO.

If there were two rooms, he could've bunked with Allen—problem solved.

But one room? One bed?

Allen, as the group's de facto leader, could sleep with whoever he wanted.

Whether it was Sylphie (childhood friend, elf, obvious choice), Isolte (gentle older-sister type), or even Eris (for sword training all night)—

None of those options included Rudeus.

And then, as if reading his mind, Eris opened her mouth—

"You. Sleep in the stable."

He could hear it already.

"WAIT!" Rudeus lunged forward, cutting her off. He grabbed Allen's wrist like a lifeline.

"Are you SURE there's only one room?! What about staff quarters? We'll pay full price!"

Desperation oozed from his voice.

"Two rooms! Just two! Me and Allen in one, the girls in the other—PERFECT, right?!"

His survival instincts had kicked in.

Sleeping in a stable once? Fine.

But if this became a pattern?

Every time rooms were short, he'd be the one exiled to the stables.

He could accept it for Allen. Or Sylphie. (Hell, he'd ship it.)

But why should he suffer for Isolte (who he barely knew) or Eris (who punched him on sight)?

And if they did cram Allen, Sylphie, and Isolte into one room—

Eris would still demand her own.

Meaning he'd still end up in the stable.

"What, share with Eris?"

"I'd rather sleep with the horses."

Thus, Rudeus arrived at his masterstroke:

He'd room with Allen.

Men together, women together.

Flawless.

The receptionist stared at Rudeus, then glanced at:

Sylphie (blushing, harmless).

Eris (bratty noble, but non-threatening).

Isolte (hand on her sword, silent but deadly).

All three were now staring at Rudeus, who was still death-gripping Allen's wrist.

The receptionist's eye twitched.

"Uh… I really think you'd all prefer sharing. Don't be shy! I've seen groups of ten pile in together—"

"Why?"

The question cut through the air.

Everyone turned to Allen, who'd been silently observing the receptionist this whole time.

His smile didn't waver.

"Turning down money? Why?"

The receptionist paused, then flipped a room card between his fingers with practiced ease.

"Sir, I don't follow. As I said, we're fully booked—"

"Are you sure?"

The card slipped, clattering onto the desk. The receptionist picked it up, sighed, then leaned in conspiratorially.

"Look… I'm doing you a favor. One bed? All these boys and girls? The fun you could have! I pegged you as the type who'd enjoy that—dominant, likes 'em petite. Guess I misread."

He shook his head, disappointed.

The group processed this in wildly different ways:

Sylphie: "One bed?!"

Isolte: "Petite?!"

Eris: "Fun?!"

Rudeus: "Boys having fun together?! WHAT?!"

All eyes swung to Allen.

Allen's smile didn't flicker. If anything, his gaze grew brighter, as if amused by the receptionist's assumptions about Asuran nobility.

The receptionist, however, paled.

His eyes dropped to Allen's hand.

Allen's fingers trailed along the desk's edge—slow, deliberate. No sound, but the receptionist heard it anyway.

Like a blade dragged across stone.

He instinctively leaned back.

Then—

SLAP.

Allen tossed a small leather pouch onto the counter.

The receptionist stiffened, then forced a laugh.

"Ah, money's no issue for you, huh? My mistake."

Allen: "How many rooms are actually available?"

Receptionist (meekly): "As many as you need."

Allen (smiling): "Business must be bad if you're this desperate."

Receptionist (shrugging): "Hence why I should've squeezed you for more. So, how many rooms?"

A beat.

"How many of each type are free?"

Another pause.

"Six twins, three triples, two quints."

Allen: "How many total rooms does this place have?"

Receptionist (flatly): "Enough. Just tell me what you want."

The exchange was calm, but Isolte narrowed her eyes. The others just waited for Allen to fix things.

Outside, the wind howled through Mortalt's empty streets.

Allen closed his eyes.

Dragon Saint Ki amplified his senses—Sense Flow mapped the entire inn.

Thirty-meter radius.

Eleven guest rooms.

All empty.

He opened his eyes, massaging his temples.

"Plenty of space. So—solo or shared?"

The group brightened:

Eris: "Shared! Like a sleepover!"

Sylphie (mumbling): "Whatever Allen wants…"

Isolte: "I'll follow your lead."

Rudeus: "I'll room with Allen—" (under twin stares from Sylphie and Isolte) "—uh, I mean, I'm bad with new places! But solo's fine too!"

Allen nodded.

"Two quints. Bathrooms?"

Receptionist: "Only in the quints."

Allen: "Then two quints." He turned to the group. "First trip—better stick together. Safer that way."

Rudeus exhaled in relief.

The arrangement was set:

Allen + Rudeus.

Sylphie + Isolte + Eris.

The receptionist watched them, his expression unreadable in the flickering candlelight.

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