“Tastes like sake!” Louis exclaid before grinning. “Natsukashii.”
Taking the wooden cup offered to him, Priam lifted it to his nose. The sharp fus invaded his nostrils, making them tingle. Looking up, he caught Rohan watching him with amusent.
“It's more for breathing than drinking.”
Shrugging, Priam dipped his lips into the clear liquid, trying to roll the liquor over his tongue to extract its full flavor. Having grown up in Bordeaux, he had learned how to taste red wine long before his majority.
Aelbe liquor was not red wine.
The drink set fire to Priam’s mucous mbranes, and he swallowed quickly to spare his poor mouth. The next instant, his throat ignited as well, forcing a rough cough from his chest. This liquid fire... he hadn’t felt anything like it since his first sip of rum.
A firm hand patted his back, and Kazuki offered a rare smile. “Don’t let it go down the wrong way.”
With the help of a few Sun Shop pills, the hoplite had mostly recovered from his injuries.
“This is an assassination attempt,” Priam groaned, feeling his esophagus and stomach protest in unison. He didn’t need Micro to track the liquor’s path—his pain receptors scread that he had just ingested molten lava.
Lvl Up: [Poison Body] lvl 34
CONST 1
VIT 1
TA (Endurance) 1
“...This is an assassination attempt?”
Rohan burst into laughter. “Originally, yes.”
Blueberry, holding a cup the size of a plate to his mouth, froze mid-sip. “What?”
The young cat-boy smirked. “Offering alcohol to new friends is an ancient tradition in my tribe—one that started with a murder attempt.” Seeing the intrigued expressions of Oasis’ residents, he continued. “This event dates back nearly three thousand years. Aelbe, our primogenitor, was a Champion, and like you, he didn’t arrive alone. Paragons of their civilizations, eight rivals had conquered terrifying trials to beco new immigrants to Elysium.”
“We were kidnapped,” Priam corrected. He might have been one of the few humans who thrived under the Concepts’ interest, but he hadn’t forgotten that none of them had been given a choice.
“I suppose,” Rohan conceded, wetting his lips with more of the potent liquor. “Shortly after reaching Tier 2, my ancestor t Snahert to negotiate an alliance during a trial that involved all their civilizations. The Tiger brought food, and the Serpent, drinks. At the al’s end, just as a truce was signed, Snahert unveiled a special bottle to celebrate—a liquor he claid could intoxicate even monsters like them.”
The fire crackled, punctuating the statent.
“That’s weird,” Rose murmured, montarily forgetting that everyone present had supernatural hearing. As eyes turned toward her, she flushed.
“Share your thoughts,” Priam encouraged.
“Well, I just find it odd that two alien civilizations both knew what alcohol was. It’s not exactly easy to make, is it?”
“Actually, it is,” Louis interjected, his expression radiating the wisdom of a kindly grandfather. “If you take a step back, even animals get high. Dolphins with pufferfish, deer with psychedelic mushrooms, baboons with iboga bark, wallabies with opium, and even so felines with catnip,” he said, eyeing Rohan. The Aelbe’s slit pupils narrowed. “So it’s no surprise that humans have been interested in drugs since the beginning of ti, across all continents. The fact that nearly every ethnic group developed their own alcohol shows that brewing is no great secret.” He raised his empty cup. “I said this tastes like sake, right? One of the oldest sakes, kuchikamizake, was made from chewed rice. Saliva breaks down starch into glucose, which fernts into alcohol. Epito of simplicity, right? So, I’m not surprised that alien races discovered booze.”
Rose wrinkled her nose in disgust, while Jasmine eyed her drink suspiciously. “If I find out I just drank sothing brewed with spit, you won’t run fast enough for to not cut your balls.”
“Whoa! It’s not!” Rohan hastily assured, raising his hands. “Well, that kind exists, but it’s only served at weddings. Unless that’s what’s stopping a beauty like you from marrying —in which case, I might make an exception.”
“I don’t marry n weaker than .” Jasmine’s smile was ice.
“The tournant will settle that.”
“Stop hitting on my friend and finish your story,” Priam interjected, already irritated by the cat-boy’s antics.
“Right. So, my ancestor was skeptical when Snahert pulled out the bottle. Warriors like us can’t get drunk as easily as crafters. With five hundred points in vitality and constitution combined—way less with [Poison Resistance]—and the strongest standard booze has zero effect. Still, out of courtesy to his rival, he took a sip and... felt intoxicated. That should’ve been impossible. So, he asked Snahert what the trick was.”
Rohan paused, eyes gleaming, waiting for guesses.
“A Concept?” Hyshana suggested.
“Partly, but not entirely.”
“A piercing skill?” Priam tried.
“Nope.”
“A weakening ritual?” Rose asked.
“Clever, but no.” Rohan let the silence stretch before continuing. “As he drank, my ancestor demanded the secret. Snahert revealed that he had infused the liquor with toxic herbs and his own Concept poison. Aelbe left with the bottle under his arm, feigning ignorance that if the poison had worked more effectively, Snahert would have attacked.”
A flicker of disdain crossed Rohan’s face, and Priam understood a bit more about the deep-seated animosities between their tribes.
“Later, after saving his people’s elites, my ancestor tasked his kin with recreating the drink. And so, a tradition was born.”
“So, the Concept poison isn’t necessary?” Blueberry asked, clearly intrigued by the possibilities of toxic cuisine.
“Snahert’s Concept makes superior liquor,” Rohan admitted. “But Gryphe, our Shaman, cultivates her own poisonous berries and fungi, and could outdo them in the next century. By the way, brewing is an art neither tribe monopolizes—even the Sun Shop sells all kinds of alcoholic elixir and toxic spirits.”
Priam glanced at his cup again. “To your ancestor’s health,” he said, downing the rest—his way of paying respect to the story he had just heard. “Damn, it’s even worse the second ti.”
He exhaled sharply before turning back to Rohan. “So, the tribes are the descendants of past Champions... And there were eight in total?”
“Six now. One vanished, and the eighth Champion secured a planet for his people by winning the Concepts’ trials.”
“I believe we are encountering a similar situation with Proxima,” Hyshana noted. “What beca of those mbers of your race who did not accompany your ancestor to Elysium?”
Rohan shot her a complicated look. “This world has no rcy for the losers, and we Aelbes are the last ones carrying the torch of our civilization. If there’s an enclave of my race outside Elysium, I’ve never heard of it... and frankly, I doubt it. All our elites migrated here, and without a powerhouse to anchor them, a faction simply can’t survive—even in a sector as young as Hope.”
Priam exchanged a glance with Kazuki who nodded. The System might try to pit them against each other, but in the end, they still had free will. If Protheus is willing to share Proxima with the hoplites, that’d be ideal. If not...
Louis, sensing the mood darken, raised his cup. “Your speech suggests there are stronger liquors than this one?”
“Of course! But most of them are dangerous unless you’ve got high enough physical attributes, and I didn’t want to poison you. Besides, without the first constitution milestone, there’s no real difference in taste between so of our spirits and liquid fire."
Louis grinned, pouring himself another drink. “This one’s fruity. Made with love.”
“Naturally!” Rohan flashed a sharp-toothed smile, grabbed an entire tankard, and took a deep swig. As he exhaled, a pale white mist escaped his lips. Raising his wrists, he struck two bracelets together, sending a spark through the air. The gas ignited into a swirling erald fla, a sight reminiscent of a fire-breather’s performance.
“That green hue is a mark of quality. Of respect. If I thought you were weak or wanted to insult you, I’d have uncorked a bottle that burns orange instead.” He gestured toward the campfire they sat around. “Orange ans basic alcohol, made by fernting mundane berries.”
“Actually, when yeast fernts sugar, it produces ethanol, which burns with a pale blue fla,” Priam coughed, briefly entertaining the idea of burning his own lifespan just to soothe his mouth. “It’s the impurities that color the fire orange... and give alcohol its flavor. I learned that the hard way.”
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“Oh? That sounds like a story.”
As he saw the assembly turn towards him, the younger ones with stars in their eyes, Priam cleared his throat. “Alright. So, I was a kid, dynamic and adventurous—”
“Reckless,” Alain interjected, setting down a mug filled with sap. Given his age and crafter’s physique, Rohan had advised against the stronger drinks.
“Sa thing at that age,” Priam smirked. “Anyway, watching adults drink all the ti made curious. During a wedding, I wanted to try the grown-ups’ drink. I knew my parents would be against it, so I found an indulgent great-uncle, the type who never says no to kids. He let have a sip of his champagne—so sparkling stuff, as expensive as good. I liked it. So by the end of the al, when the party started, I slipped away from the babysitter and emptied all the leftover champagne glasses from one of the empty tables.”
“How old were you?” Jasmine asked.
“Four,” Alain answered before his son could.
“One of my oldest mories,” Priam admitted with a grin.
“Were you drunk at the end?”
“Well…”
“He couldn’t walk straight and was so tired he fell asleep in a dog’s basket.”
The raw truth sent the group into laughter.
Priam chuckled. “The adults thought it was hilarious—except one. My mother. The mont she saw , she slapped across the face. She was wearing a heavy ring, and it cut open.” The laughter died down. “When we got ho, my dad disinfected the wound with dical alcohol. I must’ve thought it was the sa stuff as champagne because the next day, mostly to piss off my mom, I drank so. An hour later, I was in the hospital. The doctor explained to the difference between champagne and high-proof alcohol. The lesson stuck.”
A brief silence followed before Jasmine smirked. “You haven’t changed.”
“Hmm?”
“That story is about a kid whose curiosity blinds him to danger. Too adventurous to stay ignorant, too free-spirited to listen to his parents, he uses his head to find a workaround. When he succeeds, he’s too excited to be cautious. Caught red-handed, he refuses to accept an unfair punishnt, rebels…”
“And ultimately comprehends the lesson upon its rational elucidation,” Kazuki finished. “Jasmine is correct, your essential nature remains unchanged.”
The Juggernaut shook his head with a wry smile. “One thing has changed. These days, no one slaps anymore.”
The next morning, Priam started his day by plunging into the river behind Log-a-Rhythm. Erging from the icy water, he spotted Louis whistling as he approached.
“Shitty sleep and a killer hangover?”
“Even Micro doesn’t help,” Priam groaned. “Honestly, I’m still not convinced last night wasn’t an assassination attempt. How are you fine?”
“I don’t have your attributes, but I’ve got experience,” the old man chuckled. “If you drank half of what I did, you’d be immune by now.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Priam muttered, heading toward breakfast. Blueberry was already at the stove. The bear loved to sleep, but preferred to eat even more. “I hope the ideal prerequisites the Snaherts promised for [Poison Resistance] don’t involve drinking. If alcohol is their specialty...”
“That’d be hilarious,” Louis mused. “I’m surprised, though. I’ve seen you endure torture worse than a hangover. And if Alain was right about those machines you asked him to build, you’re not planning to slow down training.”
Priam shrugged. “When I push my body to its limits, it’s… professional. I’m not a masochist, and the dopamine from level-ups doesn’t make forget the pain I feel.” He clenched his fist. “Suffering reminds that my training isn't a ga. Drinking alcohol to grind resistance is a path as easy as it is dangerous. Not to ntion the risk of addiction, I don’t wanna mix recreation and work.”
“Mmm, yet, we don’t always have a choice. Next ti you go to the Moon, I'd like to join the trip,” Louis said before walking away to greet Alain.
A few sausages and so vegetarian samosas helped ease Priam’s headache. As he considered his schedule, he decided to postpone his eting with Rohan. The young master of the Aelbes was here to discuss the conditions for accessing the Regional Market, which could be reached from Ymir’s shop thanks to the Keeper of Secrets’ network. Negotiations with the most powerful of the tribes were important, but they needed Oasis more than Oasis needed them. Making their ambassador wait should drive that point ho and make negotiations easier. At least, I hope so...
Because Priam never forgot a crucial truth: for all his power, he was still just a Tier 0, incapable of asuring up to the Aelbes’ leader. Maintaining his independence without making enemies was a delicate balancing act.
And never-ending, as long as they remain stronger. Guess it’s ti to get back to training.
Priam glanced at his shadow, which remained still. Consulting his add-on, he learned that Jasmine was still asleep.
“Probably still sleeping off the alcohol... As long as I don't die, I suppose I’m eting the break conditions!”
With a smile on his lips, he made his way to the hoplite dueling ring.
“Hey!”
“Good morning,” Kazuki greeted him, eyes fixed on two of his subordinates locked in combat.
The two opponents exchanged rapid strikes, feinted, blocked, danced, and spun around each other in a deadly ballet. Blood splattered the ground more than once, and Priam soon found himself srized. Neither of the hoplites before him could match Kazuki’s raw talent, yet they were among the top ten fighters of their civilization. Having assimilated the rewards of their Tribulations, their techniques had grown monstrous. Half a step into the legendary rank.
The duel ended in spectacular fashion. Gallad, the sabermaster, fell for a feint and lunged to strike. His opponent stepped back, and the montum carried Gallad forward. His adversary dodged, letting Gallad step out of the boundaries of the dueling circle.
The hoplite was just as surprised as Priam when Gallad suddenly stopped before placing a foot outside the permitted area, as if frozen by a kinetic ability. In a smooth movent, his saber flew from his hands and positioned itself under his opponent’s throat.
In the end, his mistake wasn’t one.
“Gallad?” Kazuki asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I heard the Na of the Iron.”
“Well done.” The Warrior smiled. “You have until the end of the week to manipulate your blade with your Concept as well as you do with your hands. In a month, your armor should obey you just as well.”
“Yes, sir!”
Kazuki turned to Priam. “Any advice for him?”
The question caught him off guard, but the Juggernaut smiled when realizing it was a sign of respect from Kazuki. The hoplite Champion was asking for the opinion of an equal.
“Iron is a fundantal component of blood because it allows oxygenation of the body,” Priam said. “An anemic enemy will be weak and easily defeated. But to deprive them of their iron, you'll have to overco their natural aetheric resistance… Still, it's good training. Oh, and keep in mind, it only works on red, green, or purple blood. If they bleed blue, like so arachnids, that’s copper, not iron.”
Gallad gave a sharp nod, thanked both Champions, and walked away. After Kazuki exchanged a few words with the second hoplite, he turned back to Priam.
“I surmise that witnessing my bout against Rohan has rekindled your desire to resu martial training.”
“Your surmise is right.”
It was a weakness Priam intended to correct. He needed to sharpen his spear skills before reforging Prosse by using the formula for the Gold alloy he had obtained as a reward from his last Tribulation. Right now, he wasn’t even sure if his weapon’s current shape and dinsions were optimal for his martial abilities and future build. Once that was settled, his next goal was integrating his spear techniques into his combat style to create effective synergies.
“What were your impressions of the combat between my two n?”
“Honestly? Nothing deep, aside from the obvious. They’re better with their weapons than I am with mine.”
“Do you know why?” Kazuki inquired. His tone had shifted from that of a friend or rival to that of an instructor.
“Because they train sixteen hours a day, whereas I train zero.” This was why most of his spear skills had plateaued at the end of the rare rank. However, Priam was far from idle. “Then again, I’m juggling ten different paths while they focus on one.”
“A hoplite proverb states: ‘It is preferable to ascend a single mountain than to observe ten.’ Do you discern the course of action required to climb ten?”
“...Work ten tis harder?”
Priam regretted the words the mont they left his lips.
“Indeed. Then comnce with twelve thousand thrusts. You have thirty minutes.'”
“That’s nearly seven strikes per second,” Priam protested.
Kazuki tapped his chin, considering. “Mmh. You are right, I neglected to account for your physique. You have ten minutes.”
“Fuck.”
Sixteen hours later, when Kazuki finally released him, Priam no longer had the strength to curse.
Status:
PHYSICAL:
Strength 854
Constitution 1 655 ( 2)
Agility 1 266
Vitality 1 712 ( 3)
Perception 889
NTAL:
Vivacity (D) 634
Dexterity 792
mory 1 028
Willpower 1 238
Charisma 912
TA:
ta-affinity (O) 1 169
ta-focus 712
ta-endurance 1 173 ( 2)
ta-perception 667
ta-chance 1 020
ta-authority 627
Potential: 34 319 ( 2)
Sun points: 670 514
[Tribulation]: Two Tribulations pending.
Future Tribulations delayed until:
Ti: 25 days 5 hours 58 minutes 47 seconds.
Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 900 / 6 attributes > 1 200 / 3 attributes > 1 500 / 1 attribute > 1 800
Next arc already complete on Patreon if you want to find out what happens next!
/ANovelConcept
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