The sun sank slowly toward the horizon, dyeing the sky in shades of crimson and gold. The waves lapped rhythmically against the shore, glimring under the fiery glow. The group, still buzzing with energy from the day’s adventures, decided not to return to the villa just yet. Instead, they set up camp right there on the beach.
Lux had everything prepared—because of course he did. From his spatial ring, he pulled out a foldable barbecue stall, neatly arranged cooking tools, even camping lanterns that flickered with soft, magical light. Within minutes, the stretch of sand had been transford into a cozy seaside camp.
"Alright, ti to eat," Lux announced cheerfully, his silver hair catching the sunset glow. "But first... we need cooks."
Everyone’s eyes shifted almost in unison. Toward Blake.
The daemon prince, lounging on a beach chair he had sohow conjured up, tilted his head slowly. "Eh?"
"Don’t play dumb," Adam snorted, already rolling up his sleeves. "You’ve been lazing around all day. Ti to work."
Blake groaned dramatically, throwing his head back like a man facing execution. "Why must you tornt so? This body was not made for labor—it was made for leisure."
"Shut up and move." Lux grabbed him by the arm, and Nero took the other, both dragging the protesting prince toward the barbecue stall. Blake dug his heels into the sand, leaving long trenches, but his resistance was futile.
"Betrayal! Treachery!" Blake wailed as they planted him in front of the grill. "You’ll regret forcing greatness to toil!"
Khione, sitting cross-legged on the sand with her arms resting lightly on her knees, allowed herself the faintest smile at his theatrics. She faced the sea, her ice-blue eyes reflecting the waves, letting the salty breeze whip strands of her pale hair loose.
Elreth, however, was in no mood for amusent. She sat with her arms crossed tightly, eyes fixed on the horizon, her face shadowed in the twilight glow. Azalea sat nearby, speaking with her in low tones. Occasionally, Elreth’s sharp orange eyes flicked toward Khione and Nero, still watching each other now and then as they worked with Blake. The sight only darkened her mood further.
Despite Blake’s constant whining, the barbecue ca alive quickly. Lux handed him skewers of marinated at, Adam shoved a brush of sauce into his hand, and Nero flipped the grilling pieces with casual ease. The sll of roasting beef, chicken, and fish soon filled the air, blending with the scent of the sea.
"Careful with the flas, Blake," Nero said with a half-smile, tapping the edge of the grill with his tongs.
Blake, glaring at the sizzling skewers as if they’d personally wronged him, muttered,
"Why not just let the fire cook itself? Isn’t that its natural purpose?"
"Because if you leave it, we’ll be eating charcoal instead of at," Adam snapped. He shoved past Blake, sprinkling herbs over the fish with the precision of a trained soldier.
Lux chuckled, pouring oil over the grill to keep the flas controlled. "He’s hopeless, but he’ll learn."
"I heard that!" Blake barked, though the effort it took for him to lift one skewer and turn it was akin to soone moving mountains.
The others gathered around the fire as the first scents wafted across the beach. The lanterns glowed softly, casting golden halos over the sand, while the surf provided its own gentle music.
When the first batch was ready, Lux poured glasses of whisky, the golden liquid catching the firelight, while Adam produced a bottle of elven spirit ale, glowing faintly with a mystical sheen.
"Careful with this," Adam said, handing Nero a glass. "Even a sip can knock so people flat. Elves don’t joke around with their brew."
Nero swirled the liquid, amused. "Then I’ll drink slowly."
The group clinked glasses together. Blake raised his with a tired sigh, muttering sothing about slavery and injustice, before downing half of his in one gulp. Instantly, his cheeks turned red. "Ohoho... maybe this isn’t so bad after all."
Azalea rolled her eyes, sipping hers gracefully. Elreth barely touched her drink, lips pressed tightly as if she were holding back sharp words. Her gaze lingered once again on Nero and Khione, who had drifted a little closer to each other while tending the food. Every ti Khione’s quiet laugh carried over the flas, Elreth’s fingers clenched around her cup until her knuckles turned pale.
The night deepened, stars beginning to glitter above as the group feasted. Plates of perfectly grilled skewers, roasted fish wrapped in herbs, and even vegetables Lux had sohow prepared filled their laps. The whisky ward their bodies, while the elven spirit ale added a faint magical buzz to their senses.
Adam and Azalea fell back into their usual squabbles, trading insults between bites of food. Lux laughed at their antics, trying to keep the peace, though his attempts only made them snap louder. Blake, having accepted his fate as grill-master, now seed strangely invested, pointing out how perfectly cooked his skewers were as if he had intended it all along.
"See? Only I could manage such artistry," Blake boasted, lifting a skewer proudly.
"You did nothing," Adam shot back. "If not for us, that at would’ve been dust."
Blake gasped in mock offense. "How dare you undermine my culinary genius!"
The exchange made Khione chuckle softly, her gaze shifting briefly to Nero. Their eyes t, and for a fleeting mont, there was nothing but quiet understanding between them, the firelight reflecting in their eyes.
By the ti the food was gone and the bottles nearly empty, the camp had grown comfortable, laughter echoing across the beach despite Elreth’s lingering gloom. The fire crackled warmly, casting long shadows on the sand. The group leaned back, so lying flat to stare at the stars, others simply savoring the night air.
The barbecue had done more than just feed them—it had wrapped them in a fragile, temporary peace. For tonight, at least, they were not heirs, rivals, or prodigies under suffocating expectations. They were simply young n and won, gathered around a fire by the sea.
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