Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 460: The New Bar of Haven City

Warlock Ch 460. The New Bar of Haven City

A half month later.

Haven City had changed.

It wasn't loud or flashy. There weren't banners flapping from rooftops, or festivals in the street, or chants of victory echoing through alleyways. But it was there—in the quiet order of rebuilding crews finishing their final scaffolds, the new stonework laid where the city walls had been scorched and shattered. There was laughter again. Soft. Careful. Like people were testing the sound of it.

And right near the heart of it all, tucked in a sloped cobbled street where the lanterns cast long, amber shadows at dusk, was his bar.

It didn't have a name on the front.

Just an old wooden sign hanging above the heavy oak door. Etched by hand. No words—just a sigil carved in dark silver. A mark that only the right people would recognize. Beneath that, faint runes shimmered every time someone magical stepped near, reading their affinity and slightly adjusting the ambient mana of the space.

The bar itself was built into the front of Damian's expanded home—though "home" was a casual way to describe a structure that now extended over three levels, curved along the ridge like an estate, and included a shadowforged training courtyard in the back, complete with mana-crystal barriers.

He'd built it himself.

Well, mostly. Some things were made by hand. Others by [Create]. Some were born of sweat. Others of pure intent laced through magic threads. But it stood.

A new bar. A new start.

Inside, the place breathed warmth.

Mana-light lanterns floated along the ceiling, humming faintly in sync with the room's core enchantment. Shelves behind the bar were lined with bottles—some mundane, others pulsing with faint glows or shifting color as if the liquid inside was alive. A crystal siphon near the taps adjusted magical content on command. Every booth had its own subtle ward, keeping private conversations private and suppressing eavesdropping enchantments.

Damian stood behind the polished obsidian counter, sleeves rolled up, hands moving like poetry. But this time, the bottles he grabbed shimmered. One contained a distilled flame essence from a salamander's breath. Another held crushed snow-lotus mixed with fae nectar. He poured both into a shaker lined with mana-conductive runes, added a few drops of void bloom extract, then sealed the top and gave it a sharp, practiced shake.

A flick of his wrist sent a dark red spark across the rim. ƒreewebɳovel.com

He poured the result into a wide crystal glass.

[System Notification]

[You have created: Emberveil Tonic – Temporary +15% Fire Resistance, Restores 20 MP over 10 minutes]

"Who's next?" he called lazily without looking up.

From the far end of the bar, a nervous-looking young mage raised his hand. "M-Me?"

Damian slid the glass across the counter. "Don't spill it. Emberveil stains like hell."

"Y-Yes sir!"

Two shadow servants—sleek, silent forms made of shifting darkness and flickering purple light—glided along the bar. One placed a tray beside a couple in mage robes, the other refilled a dish of enchanted mist-nuts that cooled spell-casting fatigue.

To his right, Evelyn leaned against the counter, black velvet cloak hanging from one shoulder, her gloved hands organizing a tray of vials. Each one was labeled in her looping cursive—some healing tonics, others stamina-boosting tinctures, and a few that required a signed waiver before purchase. Her potion shelf was already drawing a small crowd at the corner booth.

"You know," she murmured without looking up, "this place is almost… cozy."

"That's a dangerous word coming from you."

Evelyn smirked. "I meant it in the terrifying way. You made something functional and welcoming. We should probably ward against housewarming gifts next."

Damian snorted. "It's not that bad."

She gestured around at the crowd. "Damian. There are two necromancers playing chess by candlelight and a weather mage asking about gluten-free lightning ale. It's adorable."

"Don't jinx it."

He was about to reply when the side door cracked open—and a familiar floral scent wafted in before she even stepped through.

Selena.

Arms full of fresh herbs, sleeves dusted in pollen, hair tied back with a braid of living vines that bloomed as she moved. She made her way to the back counter, humming softly to herself, already unloading bundles of sungrass, dreamleaves, and frostblossom onto the prep table. The wall behind her was enchanted to keep the plants fresh and enhance growth—her personal greenhouse folded neatly into the bar's infrastructure.

"Got the silvershade you wanted," she called, not even looking as she handed Evelyn a pouch.

"You're a dream," Evelyn murmured, catching it one-handed.

"And you owe me two of those glitter-pink healing tonics," Selena said, already sorting stalks by height.

"I swear those aren't real names," Damian muttered.

"They are now," Selena and Evelyn said in perfect unison.

The crystal chandelier above dimmed slightly—and then flared a little brighter as another presence approached.

Aria.

She walked in like she belonged, which she did, flicking her fingers to adjust the ambient temperature of the entire room. The slight humidity that had started creeping in from outside vanished. The lights recalibrated. The air smelled faintly of ozone and lemon balm.

"Someone left the elemental regulator too high again," she said, moving behind the bar.

"Not me," Damian replied automatically.

Aria rolled her eyes and waved a hand. A small rune appeared midair, rotating slowly. With a twist of her fingers, she tuned it to the perfect atmospheric balance—just warm enough to keep people relaxed, just cool enough to prevent overdrinking mages from overheating.

Her job?

Ambient control. Elemental fine-tuning. Occasionally, setting stubborn customers' shoes on fire.

The front door swung open with zero chill, and Cassius strode in like he owned the street.

"Now this is a bar," he declared, arms wide. "Smells like magic and regret. I love it."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "You going to compliment the decor or break something?"

"I bring news!" Cassius said dramatically, sliding onto a barstool and leaning in close. "But first—alcohol."

"You're cut off," Evelyn said instantly.

"I just got here!"

"Preemptive decision," she replied.

Damian shook his head and poured him a glass of spark-ale anyway. "Alright, Captain Storytime. What is it?"

Cassius sipped, sighed contentedly, and said, "One of the remaining captains is dead. Captain Renn, the one who used to lead operations near the Northern Passage. Turns out he was one of Ralvek's men."

Evelyn's expression didn't shift. Aria just narrowed her eyes slightly.

Damian wiped a glass clean. "Evidence?"

Cassius nodded. "Found artifacts in his quarters. Runes matched the ones used during the Vault incident. Dark-mana convergence logs. Even a ritual draft tucked inside a false book cover."

Selena looked up from her herbs. "That's not just circumstantial."

"Nope," Cassius said. "And the council? They're not pretending anymore. Overhauling the entire structure. New checks. Outside oversight. Probably terrified you'll do it for them."

Damian didn't smile. "Captain Renn died quietly?"

Cassius met his eyes.

Then paused.