They spent the entire evening talking and laughing, stories flowing as easily as the warm food and shared memories. Between the bits of gossip and teasing, Leon listened more than he spoke — quietly taking in every detail of their lives since he'd last seen them. That was when he learned Clara hadn't used the silver coin he'd given her for herself or Elise; instead, she and Nicole had used it to pay off the debts they still owed around the village.
The realization struck him deeply. Every sacrifice they made, every small decision — it was all done out of love. As he watched them smiling around the table, Leon felt a quiet warmth in his chest, a mix of pride and gratitude that no words could quite express. For the first time in a long while, he felt at peace — thankful not only for them, but for the strange twist of fate that had brought him into this world.
Eventually, as the laughter faded and the house grew quiet, Leon excused himself and slipped away to his room. Tomorrow would be a busy day — the molds would be ready, and his plans were just beginning to take shape.
Before lying down, he called up the system interface in his mind. The familiar translucent panel flickered into view, lines of text and numbers gliding smoothly before his eyes. He skimmed through the status updates, noting his current balance.
[Displaying Status…]
[Host: Leon]
[Level: 2]
[Lust Energy Points (L.E.P):200]
[Life Energy (L.E):136—13.6years]
[Energy State: Stable]
[Storage Space: 5m³ — expandable]
[Abilities: Desire Mapping]
[Conquered Women: 2]
[Note: 40% of L.E.P. is converted to Life Energy (L.E) automatically)
Satisfied, he let the interface fade and sank back against the thin mattress. The hum of crickets outside lulled him into stillness, and within moments, his breathing slowed — sleep claiming him quietly as the first stars shimmered above the village rooftops.
Morning sunlight streamed through the small window, cutting across the room in soft golden lines. Leon stirred, the faint sounds of the village already alive outside — roosters crowing, carts rolling over cobblestones, and the distant chatter of merchants setting up their stalls.
He rubbed his eyes, sitting up slowly as the memories of the previous night returned — his family's laughter, the warmth of their smiles, and the renewed determination burning quietly in his chest.
After washing up, he checked his pouch, making sure he still had enough silver and copper for the day's errands. Then, after a quick breakfast of leftover bread and tea, he slung his satchel over his shoulder and stepped out.
Clara walked beside him with a light step, clearly proud to be accompanying her brother. "Master Harn seemed really eager yesterday," she said with a small smile. "He even told me to clear the kitchen early today so we'd have space."
"I hope it goes well. He will be our first customer for the candles."
When they reached the inn, Master Harn was already outside sweeping the front steps. He looked up as soon as he spotted them, his broad face breaking into a grin. "Ah, there you are! Come in, come in — the kitchen's all yours."
Inside, the air was warm and fragrant from the morning's cooking. Leon rolled up his sleeves while Clara gathered the ingredients, moving with quiet confidence. Together, they prepared the broth — fragrant with herbs and onions — then worked the dough, stretching and pulling it into thin, delicate strands.
Harn watched closely, nodding in admiration as Leon explained the finer details of timing, temperature, and texture. By the time the first bowl was served, the rich aroma had drawn curious glances from nearby workers.
Master Harn took the first taste, blowing gently on the steaming noodles before lifting them with his chopsticks. The moment the flavors hit his tongue, his eyes lit up. "By the gods," he murmured, looking between Leon and Clara. "It's simple, but there's something special about it — hearty, clean, and… comforting."
Leon gave a modest smile, wiping his hands on a cloth. "That's exactly what I was aiming for. Something anyone can enjoy — especially after a long day's work."
Harn tried to make it with Leon's guidance ,by the third attempt, Harn's hands moved with growing confidence, his motions steady and precise as he pulled the noodles into even strands. When he finally placed the bowl before Leon for a taste, the younger man nodded approvingly.
"That's it," Leon said. "You've got the texture just right."
Harn grinned, wiping his hands on his apron. "I'll have to practice, but I think I can manage from here." Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a small leather pouch and counted several silver coins into Leon's hand. "The rest of what I owe you — worth every bit, if you ask me."
Leon accepted the payment with a small bow of gratitude. "Thank you. I'm glad it met your expectations."
"Will it be profitable to serve food during the night, Master Harn?" Leon asked with curiosity.
Master Harn paused mid-motion. "Hmm," he grunted thoughtfully. "I guess but nobody likes to eat in the dark, even drinking."
"What if there was a way to light your inn after sunset, would there be customers?"
Master Harn scratched his chin, mulling over the thought. "Light after sunset, eh? Well, of course there would," he said with a chuckle. "Folk love their ale, and if they could see their plates while they're at it, I'd wager they'd stay twice as long."
"Do you have a way?" Harn asked, showing more interest than before.
Leon smiled faintly, the kind that hinted more than it revealed. "I might," he said. "If it works I'll show you."
"Okay, tell me if it works." Master Harn said as they bid each other goodbye.
Leon gave a small nod, sliding the strap of his satchel over his shoulder. "I will," he replied, his tone calm but confident.
Harn waved a hand, still grinning with curiosity. "Good. I'll be looking forward to it, lad."
Together with Clara, they went straight to the blacksmith, who greeted them with a broad smile. "I finished them," he said proudly, gesturing toward the workbench.
Leon stepped closer, eyes widening. The molds gleamed in the soft light, each line precise, every curve perfectly formed. Even he, with all his own sketches and careful planning, felt a pang of admiration.
"These… are incredible," he breathed, running a finger along the smooth edge of one. "Exactly as I envisioned — maybe even better."
The blacksmith chuckled, rubbing his hands together. "Aye, you gave me clear designs. Made my work easier than most lads bring me. Take them, and may they serve you well."
Clara watched him with a small smile. "You've really outdone yourself," she said softly to Leon, though he hardly needed the reminder.
Leon did not waste time he quickly paid him and packed the molds, with Clara's help they carried them straight in a rush to test them out.
Back at his small workspace, Leon laid out the molds on a clean, flat surface.
The afternoon sun streamed through the window, glinting off the smooth metal edges. He unwrapped the beeswax, its faint floral scent filling the air, and chopped it into manageable chunks.
A small pot was set over a low flame, and he began melting the wax slowly, stirring carefully to prevent it from scorching. The golden liquid shimmered as it softened, almost hypnotically. He checked the molds one last time, ensuring the detachable bases were secure and the interiors smooth.
With a steady hand, he poured the molten wax into the first mold, listening to the soft hiss as the hot wax met the cool metal. Everybody leaned over his shoulder, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Looks… perfect," Nicole murmured.
Leon nodded, allowing himself a small smile. "Now we wait for it to cool."
Minutes passed, the wax hardening into its final shape. Leon gently lifted the base and tapped it — the candle slid out cleanly, flawless, with sharp, precise edges exactly as he had envisioned. He held it up to the light, marveling at how evenly the wax had set and how smooth the surface gleamed before he lit up the wick.
The wick caught quickly, the flame flickering to life with a steady, golden glow. Leon's eyes widened slightly — the candle burned evenly, without smoke or sputter, casting a warm, comforting light across the small room.
Clara's eyes sparkled. "You did it! It really works!"
They rejoiced as they watched in wonder, giving the candle a better close look even trying to touch it.
Leon carefully set the candle aside and began filling the other molds, each pour deliberate, precise, building a small row of perfect candles. The satisfaction wasn't just in seeing the wax take shape; it was in knowing that each candle was a small victory, proof that his ideas could turn into something tangible — and useful.
By evening, the room was filled with the soft, clean scent of beeswax, and a neat line of candles stood ready, gleaming in the dying sunlight. Leon leaned back, exhausted but thrilled. Tomorrow, he would take the first batch to Master Harn — and see if his invention could light the inn after sunset.