The Record of Hyoren Enjo’s Journey in Another World

Chapter 114

The Silver Chalice

Date : Day 20 of Grimleaf 1024 Aethellgard Concord Year.

Hyoren looked at the dual suns, the small golden Sol and big silver Luna descended towards the horizon. The mixed light painted the sky in fading hues of gold and silver—casting long shadows across the cobblestones. The air was cooling rapidly—the crisp bite of approaching winter nipping at exposed skin. The streets would empty soon—the vendors packing up their stalls, the adventurers retreating to taverns and inns.

He then shifted his gaze towards the silver-haired elf on his side—Elise. Her hair caught the fading light—shimmering like moonlight against the darkening sky. Her emerald eyes were focused—scanning the plaza with the practiced alertness of a ranger.

”Elise, should we quickly buy the supplies? The dual suns almost set, and we still need to prepare for our celebration.”

Elise nodded. The motion was quick—her pointed ears twitching.

”No time to dilly-dally then. Let’s go, Hyoren.”

Both of them then started walking. Their steps were steady and purposeful. First stop, supplies. They entered a general goods store.

The store owner greeted them with a professional gesture. He was a portly man with thinning hair and a well-worn apron—his hands calloused from years of handling merchandise. His eyes flicked between them—assessing, calculating, before settling into the welcoming expression of a merchant who recognized paying customers.

Elise browsed the wares. Her fingers danced across the shelves—touching jars and bags with the practiced ease of someone who knew exactly what she was looking for.

”Our salt and pepper was almost empty. And we need to buy more preserved meat.”

The man quickly packed her order. His hands moved with practiced efficiency—scooping salt into a bottle, measuring pepper into a small jar, wrapping preserved meat in brown paper. The sounds of the store filled the air—the rustle of paper, the clink of jars, the soft thud of items being placed on the counter.

Elise looked at Hyoren. Her expression was thoughtful—her mind running through their inventory.

”Anything else?”

He tapped his chin. The gesture was contemplative—his dark eyes distant as he mentally catalogued their supplies.

”How about our stock of miso, soy sauce, and flour, Elise?”

Elise realized. Her eyes widened slightly—the realization dawning on her face.

”That’s right, we used up them during our quest to Old Quarry.”

She then asked the store owner to pack their order. The man nodded—his hands moving to gather the additional items. Miso in a sealed ceramic jar. Soy sauce in a glass bottle. Flour in a sturdy cloth sack. Each item was carefully wrapped and placed on the counter.

She quickly paid with her guild card, put everything on her storage bag, and then they exited the store. The door swung shut behind them—the bell overhead chiming softly to mark their departure.

Elise scanned the busy plaza of Adventurer’s District. Her eyes moved from stall to stall—assessing, calculating, planning their route.

”Fresh produce is next, so grocery stores. Then we will go to the butcher.”

Hyoren followed her. His footsteps fell into step beside hers—their pace matching. The grocery store was a few doors down—a larger establishment with wooden bins overflowing with vegetables and fruits.

They bought a lot of fresh produce. Root vegetables with dirt still clinging to their skins. Carrots in vibrant orange. Tomatoes in deep red—their skins smooth and firm under Elise’s testing fingers. And other vegetables—a colorful array that would fill their meals for days to come. She also did not forget to buy bread and noodles.

Next they went into the butcher. The shop was smaller than the grocery store—but the smell of fresh meat was unmistakable. The butcher was a broad-shouldered man with thick arms and a bloodstained apron—his hands moving with the precision of someone who had spent a lifetime cutting flesh from bone.

”A few kilograms of squirrel meat, a few kilograms of ramtauro meat, a pack of sausages, and a few kilograms of minced meat, please.”

The butcher quickly wrapped her order. His cleaver flashed in the fading light—slicing through meat with practiced ease.

Now they were done with shopping for supplies. The bags disappeared into Elise’s storage bags—the void swallowing each item.

***

Hyoren and Elise returned to The Wanderer’s Rest. The familiar creak of the door greeted them—a sound that had become almost comforting in their short time here. The warmth of the common room washed over them—a welcome contrast to the cooling evening air outside.

They greeted Martha. The innkeeper looked up from her work behind the counter—her round face breaking into its usual motherly smile.

Hyoren explained their plans briefly—mentioning the Silver Chalice and the celebration that awaited them. Martha’s eyes sparkled with understanding—the kind of knowing look that came from years of watching young couples pass through her inn.

Martha bid them a safe trip. Her voice was warm—tinged with genuine affection for the two adventurers who had become more than just guests.

”Enjoy your evening, you two. And don’t stay out too late!”

They climbed the stairs to their room on the third floor. The wooden steps creaked beneath their feet. The door clicked shut behind them.

They quickly took a shower. The utility magic stone hummed softly as it heated the water. The hot water felt more luxurious than ever, washing away the grime of the day. The shopping. The walking. The weight of the purchases they had made—all of it dissolved under the steaming spray.

Soon, they began to dress. The atmosphere in the room shifted—becoming something more deliberate. More intentional. This was not the hurried dressing of adventurers preparing for battle. This was the careful preparation for something special.

Hyoren slipped into the tuxedo they had bought earlier from Boram. The fabric was smooth against his skin—cool and luxurious in a way that his usual training clothes never were.

Sleek black fabric, accented with silver trim.He combed his hair back smoothly, tying it neatly behind his neck.  The result was elegant—a far cry from his usual messy ponytail or the practical tie he wore during training.

Elise wore an emerald dress that covered her form and hugged her figure—the color which mirror her eyes.

The fabric hugged her figure—accentuating her slender frame in a way that was both elegant and understated. The hem fell just above her knees, and the sleeves concealed her arms. Not quite enough to hide the bracelet-like scar circling her left wrist—but she not cared anymore.

If anything, she wore it with pride. Proof that she had lived through it.

The dress carried a sense of modesty. Only a small part of her upper chest was revealed, her collarbone showed. A transparent yellow silk robe draped over her frame, soft and light, warding off the chill.

She styled her hair with a small braid framing her face, while a thin strand was tied into a short ponytail. To complete the look, she added a yellow-green ribbon. The color complemented her dress—tying the whole ensemble together.

She also put on light makeup. A touch of face powder, lipgloss, and other things Hyoren didn’t really understand. The effect was subtle—enhancing her natural beauty without masking it.

As they prepared to leave, standing in the warm glow of the room, Hyoren couldn’t help but stare.

”Elise... you look...”

He paused. The words caught in his throat. His dark eyes traced the line of her jaw—the curve of her cheek—the sparkle of her emerald eyes. He had seen her in many forms. Mud-splattered after a long day of travel. Bloodied after a fierce battle. Exhausted after days of marching. But this—this was something else entirely.

”...beautiful.”

Elise smiled—a genuine, radiant smile that reached her emerald eyes.Her pointed ears twitched with pleasure.

”You look rather handsome yourself, my love.”

She took his hand. Her fingers intertwined with his—cool against his warmer skin. The touch was gentle—intimate. A gesture that spoke of comfort and familiarity.

”Come on. Let’s go. Jena and the Silver Chalice are waiting.”

Hand in hand, they left the Wanderer’s Rest.

The transition from the Adventurer’s District to the Merchants’ District was like crossing into another world. The boisterous, chaotic energy gave way to an atmosphere of hushed elegance.

The streets were cleaner and emptier. More fancy stores, inns and restaurants.

And in this world of refined beauty, Elise was the center of attention. Every head turned.

It wasn’t a crude, gawking stare like one might see in a rough tavern—it was a more subtle, almost involuntary reaction.

A noblewoman in a silken gown paused mid-conversation, her eyes widening slightly. Her fan fluttered—a nervous gesture that drew her companion’s attention to the silver-haired elf passing by.

A pair of city guards, their posture rigid and formal, found their gazes lingering a moment too long. Their eyes tracked Elise’s form—the graceful way she moved, the way the lamplight caught her hair.

Even the haughty merchant sitting in his own carriage seemed to thaw for a fraction of a second as they passed. His stern expression softened—his eyes following her until she disappeared from view.

Hyoren found his hand tightening on her arm, a subtle, unconscious gesture of claiming what was his. The possessiveness surprised him—it was unfamiliar and fierce. A primal urge that rose from somewhere deep within his chest. A surge of something unfamiliar and fiercely possessive.

”Elise, everyone looking at you.”

Elise chuckled. The sound was light—musical. Her pointed ears twitched with amusement.

”Is that so? Fufu.”

The simple emerald dress she wore was not ostentatious, but on her, it was a masterpiece. The fabric hugged her figure in all the right places—the color complementing her eyes, the cut accentuating her elven grace. The yellow silk robe draped over her shoulders added an ethereal quality.

Elise leaned in, her lips brushing his ear.

”Relax, Hyoren. They’re just looking. Let them. Fufu.”

Her confidence was a balm to his unease. He took a breath, forcing himself to relax.

His shoulders dropped. His grip on her arm loosened—though he still kept her close. The possessiveness didn’t fade entirely—but it settled into something more comfortable. More manageable.

Not long after, they arrived at their first destination. A small but neat establishment with a simple wooden sign that read ”The Agile Viper.” The windows displayed examples of Jena’s craft—leather armor and accessories arranged with an artist’s eye for presentation.

A small bell chimed as they pushed through the door.

The inside was familiar clean and orderly store. The walls were lined with finished pieces displayed on mannequins.

The owner, Jena, looked up from her workbench and smiled when seeing who entered.

”Elise! Talk about good timing. I just finished final touch on your armor.”

Then she noticed what she was wearing. Her eyes traveled from Elise’s emerald dress to the yellow silk robe to the careful styling of her silver hair. The leatherworker’s eyebrows rose—her expression shifting from professional to genuinely impressed.

”And you look so beautiful! Where do you want to go?”

Elise then explained how they are going to celebrate. Her voice was light—tinged with excitement.

Jena’s eyes sparkled with genuine happiness for her friend—the kind of joy that came from knowing someone had overcome hardship and emerged stronger.

”I see, The Silver Chalice. You picked a good place, Elise.”

Jena picked up a paper-wrapped package from the table and handed it to Elise. The package was neat—wrapped with care and tied with string.

”Here—your armor. Just as we discussed. I also had a friend add a small but useful runic array to the lining. Exactly as you ordered.”

Elise clutched the package to her chest. Her emerald eyes sparkled with gratitude—the expression of someone receiving something precious.

Then she retrieved her storage bag from her dark green handbag. It felt a bit redundant—but carrying the storage bag openly would ruin the elegance of her carefully prepared outfit. The pouch itself was plain and unassuming, its muted color clashing with her emerald dress. The contrast was stark—the practical adventurer’s tool at odds with the refined lady’s attire.

She quickly slipped the package inside the storage bag, then tucked it neatly back into her handbag.

”Thank You Jena, here, payment. 1.5Mil Kres as promised?”

Jena took her card and nodded. Her fingers handled the Guild Card with practiced ease.

”Yes, wait a bit, ok?”

She then processed the payment, and gave Elise’s card back.

Hyoren watched the two women with warm eyes. He didn’t want to intrude. So he just stood near the door, waiting patiently. His back was against the wall—his posture relaxed but alert. The tuxedo felt strange against his skin—unfamiliar in its formality. But watching Elise interact with Jena—seeing the genuine affection between them—made the unfamiliarity worth it.

Elise finally turned to face him. Her smile widened—the expression radiant in the soft light of the leatherworker’s shop.

”Let’s go, Hyoren. Now my armor is ready and we can go on a quest tomorrow with proper gear now. Fufu.”

She waved at Jena, took Hyoren’s arms and they exited Agile’s Viper behind. The bell chimed again as they left—a soft farewell that followed them into the evening air.

***

Arm in arm, Hyoren looked at Elise.

”Okay, time for our celebration. I didn’t know where the restaurant was. So, lead the way, Elise.”

He scratched his cheek, embarrassed.

Elise chuckled. Her pointed ears twitched—the telltale sign of her amusement.

”Fufu. Leave it to me then. Let’s go.”

They walked in the sparse Merchants’ District. Then turned around to enter a side street which was named Merchants’ 7th Avenue. The avenue was narrower than the main thoroughfare—but no less refined. The shops here catered to wealthier clientele—their windows displaying expensive wares behind spotless glass.

And after walking for a while, they arrived at their destination.

The Silver Chalice was an elegant establishment from the outside, a two-story building of dark, polished wood and large, spotless windows.

A simple, elegant sign depicting a silver chalice hung over the door—the metal catching the light and shimmering like liquid mercury.

There was no boisterous noise spilling out, no raucous singing. The windows revealed glimpses of the interior—well-dressed patrons seated at tables, the gentle movement of servers carrying trays, the flicker of candlelight reflecting off polished glassware.

”Here we are, The Silver Chalice. The most luxurious restaurant in Akela, Hyoren.”

Hyoren looked at the restaurant. It was busy. Almost packed. The windows showed a sea of diners—heads bent in conversation, servers weaving between tables, the soft clink of glasses and cutlery drifting through the open door.

”It was almost packed. I hope we got a seat.”

Elise smiled. The expression was reassuring—confident in a way that eased his anxiety.

”Don’t worry, we could wait a bit if it was full.”

Hyoren noticed about the guest which was intimidating for him. The atmosphere of the restaurant was truly different. Luxury. Nobility. Through the windows, he could see men in tailored suits and women in elegant gowns.

”And I truly don’t know how to behave in this kind of restaurant, Elise.”

Elise giggled. The sound was light—musical. Her emerald eyes sparkled with amusement.

”Don’t worry. Just leave it to me. Let’s go, Hyoren.”

Hyoren nodded. Then they climbed the stairs to the restaurant. The steps were wide and well-maintained—the stone worn smooth by countless feet but still solid beneath their shoes.

A tall, impeccably dressed human man with a neatly trimmed mustache stood at the door. He was the maître d’. His suit was black and perfectly pressed—not a wrinkle visible. His shoes gleamed with a mirror shine. His posture was straight—his hands clasped behind his back in a stance of professional readiness.

As they approached, his eyes swept over them, taking in Hyoren’s handsome and sleek attire and Elise’s breathtaking presence. His professional demeanor didn’t crack, but his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. The silver of her hair. The emerald of her dress. The grace with which she carried herself. It was impossible not to notice.

”Good evening. Welcome to The Silver Chalice. Do you have a reservation?”

The man greeted them, his voice smooth. Cultured. The kind of voice that had been trained to be pleasant without being familiar.

”We do not. But we were hoping you might have a table for two.”

Elise’s voice was calm—composed. She met the maître d’s gaze without flinching. Her emerald eyes held his steadily—the confidence of someone who belonged in this world.

The maître d’ hesitated for only a second. The restaurant was almost full. But one did not simply turn away a woman who looked like a goddess and the formidable-looking man at her side. His eyes flickered between them—assessing, calculating, deciding.

”Of course. For patrons of your... distinction, we will always find a way. We just got our last tables which will be perfect for you two.”