From Trash to Lord of Thunder: The Rise of the Cursed Extra-Chapter 67: Options

Charles trudged through the clan’s grounds, hands stuffed in the pockets of his black tunic, shoulders slouched.

The hallways were quieter than usual, with only a handful of clan members passing by, whispering among themselves.

His stomach let out a loud grrrumble, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since leaving Lira’s room, where he’d flat-out refused to touch her meat-and-rice dish out of sheer paranoia about being drugged again.

’Damn it,’ Charles thought, rubbing his belly. ’I’m starving, but I’m not sure risking the dining hall is a smart move.’

Lira’s words echoed in his head as he walked:

"At least for today, avoid training in public. You had a fight, Rian. Rest."

It had sounded more like an order than advice, but Charles couldn’t help feeling a bit grateful.

Who wouldn’t want a day off in a place where everyone seemed eager to punch or interrogate him?

The problem was, Charles had no clue what to do with all this free time.

’What am I supposed to do?’ he thought, pausing at a hallway intersection. ’I don’t have friends here, I don’t know where Kaira is, and I’m not going back to Lira to get choked out again.’

His stomach growled again, louder this time—GRRRRUMBLE.

The dining hall seemed like the obvious choice, but memories of the trouble he’d stirred up there—fights, accusations, hostile glares—made him hesitate.

’No thanks,’ Charles thought, turning toward the hallway leading to his new room. ’I’ll just hole up in my room and train a bit. At least no one will bug me there.’

But as he walked, another question hit him:

What was money even for in the clan?

He hadn’t thought about it until he mentioned what Dren owed him.

In his world, money bought food, clothes, or maybe a cold beer now and then. But here, in this fight-obsessed place, he had no idea what it could get him.

Weapons?

Potions?

Private training sessions?

Charles hadn’t asked Lira because he didn’t want to give her more reasons to suspect him.

’If I want answers, I need to find someone who doesn’t hate me,’ he thought, scratching the back of his neck. ’And the only person who kinda fits that description is Kaira.’

The problem was:

Where was Kaira?

The last time he saw her was in the clan’s hospital, and before that, in his room when she helped him escape those morons in brown tunics.

Charles let out a short laugh, shaking his head.

"I doubt I’ll find her napping in my room again," he said under his breath, amused by the thought. "It’s been hours since the trial. She’s probably training or doing... whatever it is she does."

Charles reached his room and pushed the door open with a creeeak, expecting to find it empty.

But as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he froze.

There, sprawled on his bed, was a girl with long black hair, wearing a red tunic, fast asleep.

Her red boots were tossed on the floor, and one leg dangled off the edge of the mattress.

’No way!’ Charles thought, stunned. ’It’s Kaira!’

Quickly, he slipped inside and shut the door with a soft click, making sure no one else saw her.

The last thing he needed was those three idiots in brown tunics from yesterday spotting a girl in his room and starting dumb rumors.

’Well... guess I don’t have to look for her anymore,’ Charles thought, approaching the bed with a grin.

Kaira was completely out, arms splayed, mouth slightly open, letting out a soft snoring sound—zzz... zzz...—that was more cute than annoying.

Charles hesitated, wondering if he should wake her. He remembered Lira teasing him about being a heavy sleeper, and a mischievous idea sparked in his mind.

’Let’s see how deep this sleepyhead’s out,’ Charles thought, stifling a laugh.

He walked to the wooden wardrobe in the corner and opened it with a deliberate creak. Then he slammed it shut, louder than necessary—THUD!

Nothing.

Kaira didn’t budge.

He opened and closed it again, even louder this time—CREEEAK! THUDD!

Still no reaction.

’Wow,’ Charles thought, crossing his arms. ’This girl sleeps like a rock.’

He glanced around, looking for something else to make noise with, but his room was pathetically bare compared to Lira’s.

Just the bed, the wardrobe, a small table, and a plain wooden chair.

Out of options, Charles plopped onto the floor, leaning against the wall, and watched Kaira.

Her snores were so faint they were barely noticeable, but every now and then, she mumbled something incoherent that made him smile.

"This place is boring as hell," Charles muttered, more to himself than to her. "And you, you’re the worst bed-invader I’ve ever met."

He chuckled softly, teasing her in a low voice.

"What, you planning to crash here all day, sleepyhead?" he said, keeping his tone soft to avoid waking her. "You oughta pay rent for hogging my bed, Kaira." freewebnøvel.coɱ

But the second he said her name, Kaira’s eyes snapped open.

She bolted upright, sitting ramrod straight like she was at a military roll call, and whipped her head toward him with a deadly serious expression.

"Yes, sir!" she barked, her tone almost a formal salute.

Then, realizing it was Rian, she froze, blinking in confusion.

"Wait... when did you get here?"

Charles burst out laughing, unable to hold it in at her reaction.

"Not long," he said, still chuckling. "Like... two hours, give or take."

Kaira’s face turned beet red as she fully sat up on the bed.

"Two hours?!" she yelped, eyes wide. "Why didn’t you wake me?!"

Charles raised his hands, still laughing.

"Kidding, kidding!" he said. "I just got here. You’ve been squatting on my bed for, like, five minutes tops."

Kaira eyed him suspiciously, smoothing her messy hair.

"You serious?" she asked, her tone a mix of relief and embarrassment. "You’re not lying?"

"Dead serious," Charles said, grinning. "I just came from Lira’s room. We had a... chat after the trial."

Kaira raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

"The trial?" she said, leaning forward. "How’d it go? What’s the verdict?"

Charles opened his mouth to answer, but before he could get a word out, Kaira leapt to her feet, scrambling for her boots.

"Hang on," she said, pulling on her black socks. "Have you eaten? ’Cause I haven’t, and I’m starving..."

Charles shook his head, feeling another grrrumble from his stomach.

"Nope," he said. "Let’s just say... I didn’t trust the food I was offered."

Kaira gave him a curious look but didn’t press.

Instead, she pulled a crumpled parchment from her tunic pocket.

It was a menu, much like the one she’d given him at the clan hospital.

"Perfect," she said, unfolding it. "What do you want? Pick quick, I’ll hit the dining hall and grab something for both of us."

Charles glanced at the parchment.

It listed several options, all with vaguely exotic but simple names.

He pointed to one: a hearty meat stew with mountain tubers and spices.

According to the description, it was a thick dish with slow-cooked meat chunks, small potatoes, carrots, and a spicy sauce made with local herbs.

"That one," Charles said, tapping it. "Sounds good."

Kaira nodded, yanking on her boots with lightning speed.

"Good choice," she said. "I’ll be back in a few. Stay here and spill the beans about the trial when I get back."

Before Charles could say anything else, Kaira flung open the door with a whoosh and darted out, her footsteps echoing down the hall—tap-tap-tap.

Charles was left alone, chuckling softly as he shook his head.

"Was she really that embarrassed I caught her sleeping?" he muttered, sitting on the bed where she’d been.

The mattress was still warm, and for a moment, he let himself relax.

’Well... food problem solved.’