Alpha's mate is a male?!?-Chapter 116: Ace Being A Hero

Ace exhales loudly, a dramatic sigh cutting through the thick silence that still lingers in the air. "What do you people eat? I’m really hungry." he suddenly says.

The witches blink, momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in tone. Even Rika, who had been tense just moments ago, looks at him like she isn’t sure if he’s serious or not.

Ace stretches his arms behind his head, then plops down onto one of the stone benches lining the chamber.

He leans back as if this is just another casual evening, not a moment after he literally burned their terrifying leader out of existence. "I mean, seriously. Do you guys even eat normal food, or is it just potions and weird glowing herbs?"

A few witches exchange glances, unsure of how to respond. Then Rika steps forward, tilting her head slightly. "Can you eat food brought out by magic?"

Ace shrugs. "As long as it won’t be killing me." He smirks. "I’m not about to die because I bit into an enchanted apple or something."

For a moment, the witches stare at him. Then, unexpectedly, someone snorts.

The sound is small, barely noticeable, but it sets off a ripple effect.

A few others chuckle, then another witch lets out a nervous giggle.

Soon, the tension that had been weighing down the room starts to lift. The witches relax, their fear slowly fading, becoming comfortable with Ace.

Ace may have just erased their tyrannical leader from existence, but he isn’t looming over them like a conqueror.

He isn’t barking orders or demanding submission. He’s sitting there, complaining about hunger like a regular person.

The shift in atmosphere is almost instant.

Suddenly, witches begin murmuring amongst themselves, and before Ace can process what’s happening, there’s a small commotion.

"I’ll do it," one of them declares.

"No, let me!" another chimes in.

"I can make the best roast pheasant...."

"You call that food? What about proper stew?"

"No, no, sweets! He looks like someone who’d enjoy sweets..."

Ace watches, mildly amused, as they break into an eager debate. Rika sighs, rubbing her temple as if this is a common occurrence. "I’ll be the one to do it." She says, they all go quite looking at her, each one who wanted to make for him looking disappointed.

"Okay, okay," Ace interrupts, waving a hand to get their attention. His expressions really amused. "I have a solution before you all start throwing spells at each other." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Anyone who can bring out food should do it. That way, we can all eat together, to our fullest. Also, that way, I can be able to taste each one’s."

There’s a beat of silence, and then giggles and excitement before magic flares in the air.

One by one, witches start summoning food. Glowing symbols appear in the air, flickering in vibrant colors as enchanted meals materialize.

The room fills with the tantalizing scent of freshly baked bread, roasted meats, rich stews, and sweet pastries.

Plates appear on the long stone tables, golden goblets filled with sparkling liquids, and baskets of fruit that shimmer slightly under the dim lighting.

Ace watches in fascination as food continues to appear out of thin air. It’s an overwhelming spread, grand enough to rival royal banquets.

Back then, he had started to fear magic so much, but watching all these, it really impresses him.

"...Okay, I wasn’t expecting this much," he admits, eyeing the sheer volume of food before him. "Now we look like we’re in a festival?"

Rika smirks, finally taking a seat across from him. "We haven’t had a reason to celebrate in a long time," she says, nodding toward the rest of the witches, who are now animatedly chatting amongst themselves as they continue preparing the feast. "This... might be the first moment of peace they’ve felt in years."

Ace doesn’t respond immediately.

He watches the witches as they settle in, their expressions lighter, their movements no longer weighed down by fear.

It’s strange, seeing how quickly things have changed.

Just minutes ago, this room was filled with an oppressive, suffocating energy.

Now, there’s laughter, murmurs of excitement, the clatter of plates and cups as they set everything up.

His stomach growls, pulling him back to the moment.

"Well," Ace says, grabbing a piece of warm bread from the nearest plate, "peace is best enjoyed with a full stomach."

Rika chuckles, finally allowing herself to relax.

Soon, everyone gathers around the long tables, some sitting on the stone benches, others choosing to lounge on the floor with cushions conjured from thin air.

It isn’t formal.

It isn’t structured.

It’s messy and loud, with witches passing plates around, arguing over whose dish is better, and sharing stories between bites.

Ace, to his surprise, finds himself drawn into the conversation.

As the meal continues, he glances at Rika, who seems lost in thought, staring at her plate with a distant expression.

"You okay?" he asks.

She blinks, then offers a small smile. "Yeah," she says. "Just... adjusting." She gestures around the room. "This freedom, it’s new. And it still feels... unreal."

Ace nods, understanding more than she realizes.

"Give it time," he says, grabbing a goblet filled with something sweet and golden. He raises it slightly. "To new beginnings."

Rika hesitates for a moment, then lifts her own cup.

"To new beginnings."

Just as the other witches are about to raise theirs, the door falls inside with force.

Kieran storms in, his warriors flanking him, ready to attack, their eyes scanning the room for threats.

The tension in the air is thick, the sharp scent of steel and magic clashing for dominance.

Marsel and Elira move in right behind him, their expressions grim, prepared for battle.

And yet, what they find is... nothing like what they expected.

Ace is seated in the middle of a long stone table, a cup in one hand, a piece of bread in the other, surrounded by witches laughing and chatting as if this is some grand banquet instead of a battlefield.

Jun, who had been right behind Kieran, freezes at the sight. His brows furrow. The warriors exchange wary glances, the grip on their weapons tightening.

The first thought that floods their mind is he’s been manipulated again.

There’s silence, thick, suffocating silence, as two opposing sides lock eyes.

The witches stiffen, their mirth faltering at the sight of Kieran’s pack, bristling with tension.

Ace, however, is entirely unbothered.

He sets his cup down, then leans back with a smirk. "You guys wanna join in?" he asks casually. "We were just celebrating a new beginning. Since you arrived at the perfect moment, you might as well sit down and eat with us."

Kieran doesn’t move. His sharp golden eyes remain locked onto Ace, scanning him for any signs of distress, any hint of coercion. "Ace," he calls, his voice taut with barely restrained emotion.

Ace waves a hand dismissively. "Relax. It’s all good," he reassures, his smirk softening into something more genuine. "They’re not a threat. I already dealt with the real devil."

Kieran’s jaw tightens, but before he can say anything else, Jun suddenly pushes past him, striding straight toward Ace.

He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t slow down, he just throws himself at Ace, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

"You fool!" Jun’s voice wavers, thick with emotion. His grip tightens, his face buried in Ace’s shoulder.

Ace groans dramatically. "Hey, come on, have some shame crying in front of people," he teases.

Behind him, the witches chuckle and giggle, their fear of Kieran’s warriors momentarily forgotten.

They relax, taking comfort in Ace’s presence, as if he is the one protecting them now. As if they have nothing to fear when he is here with them.

Jun sniffles but doesn’t pull away completely. Instead, he moves back just enough to look at Ace. "You’re really sure there’s no danger?" he asks, his eyes still filled with doubt.

Before Ace can answer, Marsel steps forward. His gaze sweeps over the room, his instincts reaching for any lingering traces of dark energy. Slowly, his shoulders relax.

"It’s true," Marsel murmurs, his eyes settling on Ace. "Whatever danger was here, he’s already taken care of it. I can’t feel it anymore."

Without another word, he pulls Ace into a hug, relief radiating from him like warmth from a fire.

Elira joins in immediately, her grip just as firm, as if she’s making sure Ace is really here, really safe.

Ace, for all his bravado, stands still, letting them hold him. His smirk fades, replaced by something softer, something almost vulnerable.

Kieran watches it all, his heart pounding in his chest.

Ever since the witches appeared and claimed to want Ace, he hasn’t been himself. And when they took him, he’s been dying inside.

He couldn’t rest, couldn’t think. All he wanted was to get here and bring Ace back.

And now he’s here, safe, happy even.

Kieran’s fingers twitch at his sides. His emotions are a storm, violent and overwhelming, but he keeps them contained.

Ace finally pulls back, stretching his arms. "Actually," he says, looking at the warriors still standing stiffly by the entrance, "not all of them are evil. I mean, none of them really are. Their leader was cruel to them, they were trapped by him. And the reason he wanted to destroy me is because he knew his deeds were evil. He saw me as a threat." Ace gestures around the room. "But they’re just people. They were forced to follow him."

Jun is only half-listening.

His eyes have already drifted to the feast spread out on the table. He swallows, then nudges Ace. "This looks amazing."