The Monster Monarch System-Chapter 244: Sorin City (Part 2)

When they reached the guards, one of them — a broad-shouldered man with a thick beard — held up a hand.

"Hold it. State your business."

The adventurer offered a friendly smile, pulling out a small badge from his cloak. "Returning from an expedition. These three are with me."

The guard eyed Rem and the kids before grunting. "You know the rules. No criminals, no smuggling, no causing trouble."

"Of course."

With a wave, the guard let them pass, and just like that, they were inside.

The city was even more alive than it had seemed from the cliff. The streets were paved with smooth stone, worn down by years of traffic.

Stalls lined the roads, offering everything from exotic spices to enchanted trinkets. The smell of freshly baked bread mixed with the scent of roasted meat, making Kiara’s stomach rumble audibly.

Luke glanced at her with an amused smirk. "You’re starving, aren’t you?"

She scowled. "Shut up."

The adventurer leading them turned down a less crowded road, avoiding the busier market streets. "We’re heading straight to the inn," he said. "No detours."

After several twists and turns, they arrived in front of a building that stood apart from the others. Unlike the rougher, more practical inns they had passed, this one gleamed under the afternoon sun.

It had polished wood accents, a pristine sign with golden lettering, and warm lights glowing from its windows.

Kiara’s jaw nearly dropped. "We’re... staying here?"

The adventurer grinned. "Told you I’d take care of it. Consider it my thanks." He turned to Rem and gave a deep bow. "You saved our lives back there. I don’t forget things like that."

Rem raised a brow but didn’t argue. The gesture was unnecessary, but he wouldn’t refuse comfort especially when it was part of their deal. In fact, he appreciated it, he wouldn’t have to spend much.

The adventurer straightened. "Go on in. The staff already knows you’re coming. I have some things to take care of, but I’ll check in later."

With that, he gave a nod and walked away, disappearing into the streets.

Rem, Kiara, and Luke stepped inside. The air was warm, the scent of rich food drifting from the kitchen. A receptionist greeted them with a polite smile, motioning them forward.

"Welcome to the Golden Hearth Inn. Your rooms are ready."

######

Rem exhaled slowly as he leaned back against the wooden bedframe, the weight of exhaustion pressing against his body like an old, familiar companion.

His muscles ached from the relentless battles in the dungeon, and for once, the quiet of the room felt foreign.

He wasn’t used to stillness — wasn’t used to the absence of danger lurking just beyond his reach.

The bath had helped. The warmth had seeped into his skin, washing away the grime, the dried blood, and the tension that had settled in his bones.

Now, with a towel loosely tied around his waist, he stood before the small mirror mounted on the wall, gazing at his reflection.

His body bore the evidence of his struggle. But they were gone now.

He glanced to the side where his cloak lay — a tattered mess. What had once been a reliable piece of gear was now barely holding together.

It was riddled with tears, stained with dirt, and frayed at the edges.

Useless.

With a quiet sigh, he picked it up and tossed it onto the chair.

He needed a new one. A better one.

Pulling his System inventory open with a flick of his fingers, he retrieved a clean set of clothes. Simple, but functional — black pants, a fitted tunic, and sturdy boots.

He dressed quickly, rolling his shoulders to loosen the stiffness before running a hand through his damp hair.

Before leaving, he stepped out into the hall and peered into the adjacent room.

Kiara and Luke were already settling in, their exhaustion evident in how they sprawled out across their beds. The warmth of the room made it easy to forget the struggles of the past few days.

Luke, lying on his back, had his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. "Didn’t think we’d be sleeping in actual beds tonight," he murmured.

Kiara, curled up beneath a thick blanket, chuckled softly. "I almost forgot what comfort felt like."

Rem watched them for a moment, then stepped back, quietly closing the door.

Descending the staircase, he approached the front desk where the receptionist stood, her hands neatly folded atop the counter.

"I’ll be stepping out for a bit," he informed her.

She gave him a polite nod. "Understood, sir. If you require anything upon your return, don’t hesitate to ask."

With that, he stepped outside.

The city was alive even as dusk settled in.

The streets glowed under the flickering lamplights, and the air was filled with the sounds of merchants calling out their wares, the chatter of townsfolk, and the distant clanging of a blacksmith’s hammer.

Rem moved through the crowd with ease, his gaze sweeping over the various stalls. He wasn’t in the mood to linger — his goal was simple. A new cloak.

The marketplace stretched out before him in a winding maze of stalls and shops, each one selling something different.

Fine silks, enchanted trinkets, weapons of various makes, and food stalls that filled the air with the rich aroma of roasted meats and spiced bread.

He ignored most of it, his eyes scanning for a place that sold clothing fit for combat.

Eventually, he spotted a shop tucked between a weaponsmith and an apothecary.

The sign above it read: The Weaver’s Rest. The storefront was modest, but through the open entrance, he could see neatly displayed fabrics and tailored garments hanging along the walls.

He stepped inside.

The shopkeeper, an older man with graying hair and sharp eyes, glanced up from behind the counter. He studied Rem for a moment before nodding in greeting. "Welcome, traveler. Looking for something specific?"

Rem ran a hand over the fabric of a dark cloak hanging nearby. "Something durable. Resistant to wear and tear."

The shopkeeper smirked knowingly. "Ah, a practical man. You want something built to last, not just for show."

He moved from behind the counter, walking over to one of the shelves. "I have just the thing. Reinforced stitching, enchanted to resist minor damage, and lightweight enough to move freely in." He pulled out a long, dark cloak, its fabric smooth yet sturdy. "It won’t stop a blade, but it won’t tear easily either. Good for someone who sees a lot of action."

Rem took it, running his fingers over the material. It was good quality — better than what he’d had before. He gave a small nod. "How much?"

"Fifteen silver."

Rem pulled out the coins from his inventory, placing them on the counter.

The shopkeeper took them, inspecting each one briefly before giving a satisfied nod.

"Pleasure doing business with you," the man said, handing the cloak over.

Rem didn’t linger. He threw the cloak over his shoulders as he stepped outside, fastening it at the collar.

It fit well.

The night air was crisp as he made his way back toward the inn. For the first time in what felt like ages, he wasn’t immediately thinking about his next battle.

For now, he could breathe.