Cerevisia, the state popular for its wine and beer trade.
It hosted so of the world’s best taverns and pubs. A state under the rule Duke Regory White VI. Regory wasn’t just known for the alcohol trade of his state. He was known for having twenty-three wives and not a single heir.
Yes, Regory White, despite having outstanding looks, nurous wives, and a charming personality, was impotent. He couldn’t bear a child.
Despite all that, he was a genius. While not a strategist, he provided enough funds to outmanoeuvre the gold of the Lunar Kingdom.
He was rich. But he didn’t boast it enough; instead, he respected the throne. He knew the rule; never outshine the master.
"We’ll reach our destination in monts, My Lord." I heard Bart’s voice. He was sitting alongside the driver.
Our carriage didn’t have an emblem. And I wasn’t announcing my visit either. This was discrete.
I stared outside the window as the carriage wheels rolled on the cobblestone, making that classic dieval sound. Although it lacked the lody of pistons firing in a V-eight, it was still serene.
Commoners avoided the carriages of nobles. So looked with amazent, so showed clear fear, and so even hatred, but not a single person voiced their thoughts out.
Our carriage stopped near a grand tavern nad "Mythic Heart."
I scoffed at that na. Developers could’ve chosen a better na for this place.
I took off my moon earrings and placed a sleek hat over my head. Lastly, I picked up a pair of sleek spectacles, flicked the sticks open with my fingers and wore them.
Too much for a disguise, it’s not like newsletters printed colored images. With it, people won’t stare in my eyes, at least.
’I should’ve brought that ring for disguise...’ I thought.
The gates of the carriage opened with a click.
"We’re here, My Lord," Bard said as he bowed and then gestured at the silver gates of the dark silver gates with intricate golden designs. Unlike most buildings, this tavern did not have a wooden gate for entrance.
"I don’t think I’ll be here for long, Bard," I said, stepping out of the carriage and placing my hand on Bard’s shoulder. Lad was a little younger than , but promising. Bard was soone Ymir trusted, and that trust was built over the years.
"But just in case, rest inside, have so beer. I’m in a good mood today..." I patted his shoulders.
"Then I shall drink to your mood, My Lord, and keep watch for your return," Bard replied, his mood brightened up.
He was a simple guy. Just like .
I gave him a nod and walked in as the doors were opened by the servants. A delicious scent of cooked at hit like a breeze, and the strong scent of booze just jolted my mind awake.
’Do these clothes make stand out?’ I thought, looking at the people. Their conversations turned into whispers; whispers turned into stares as I walked in and sat on the bar chair.
Nobles avoided pubs as much as they could. Drinks and won could be brought into castles. And there was barely any noble who treated commoners with love. Folks knew they were surviving because of the value they bring to the economy.
Or at least, that’s what the case for the majority of nobles was. Ymir was among that majority.
"What can I get you, Lord?" The bartender asked. A sleek build, black eyes, and grey hair with a touch of black in the ends. He wore a white shirt; classic elastic sleeves buckled in black pants.
"Quite the air we have here..." I scoffed. "Did I ruin the mood?"
"If the mood is ruined, my lord, then perhaps a cup of our strongest will nd it." He replied.
I nodded. This guy was good with words. Bartenders are usually sweet talkers after all.
I held Bard’s hand and made him sit on the chair beside .
" Lord-"
Ignoring him, I looked at the bartender.
"Give this guy whatever he asks for. Make sure he’s entertained," I said.
"Absolutely, and what would you like to have, My Lord?" he asked.
"I’m just here to et an old friend. But I’m not sure which one of them’s going to be. So, just tell the owner of this tavern, I wish to have an audience with him." I replied, tapping my finger on the desk.
And the response was rather quick. Before the bartender could move, I heard a soft voice of a maid who walked up behind .
"My Lord, the owner says it would be his pleasure to et you. They’re waiting in the room just across the staircase on the first floor. If you’ll be willing to, I can guide you there," she said, but maintained so distance as if she was scared of .
"Lead the way", I nodded and followed her.
The mont I headed upstairs, whispers and murmurs grew loud. People started talking freely.
’This fear... isn’t this funny?’ Unknowingly, I smirked at the spectacle.
Upon arriving on the first floor, the maid knocked on the door three tis and opened the door by rotating the ball-shaped knob of the door.
Incense? That was my first thought. There was a symbol of Luna’s church hung on the wooden panel wall. A symbol that depicted the Goddess Luna playing her flute, sitting gracefully on a lone rock.
White feathered sofas. A fur mat covered the whole floor. I felt bad for walking with shoes on it.
I looked at the man standing behind the desk as he gestured for to have a seat on the sofa.
I don’t know his fake na. He’s a demon. Not just any lesser demon. He’s a monster among the three realms.
The door behind closed as the maid left. I nodded and took a seat on the sofa against the wall, while this guy brought a kettle of boiled water and placed it on the table sitting in front of .
"I must say... It’s a pleasure to be in your presence. Lord Ymir Celestie of Lunar. Youngest of all Princes, Goddess Luna’s favoured child, and a genius being, not just a prince. To say that I’m honored would be an understatent," he said.
He knew about . Of course, that was evident. Considering the kind of being he is.
I looked at him for a few seconds and then stared at the Symbol of Luna hung on the wall behind him.
He followed my gaze and looked at the artistic symbol, then back at , then smiled.
"Lovely, right, our goddess is truly-"
"Our?" I cut him off and looked back at him.
"I thought you guys hated gods," I added.
There was silence for quite so ti. This guy still maintained that smile.
He nodded and started pouring tea into two cups.
"Fake ones." He said as he made the tea.
"We hate fake gods. Luna, she’s a true goddess," he continued.
The thing about this ga world was that its story was a ss made of hypothetical and real mythological elents. So of the characters in here were inspired by earthly mythologies.
"Orochi, the eight-headed serpent, the grand observer, is what you’re known as, right? Which one am I talking to, though?" I tilted my head and leaned forward.
Orochi stopped pouring the tea and stared into my eyes. His smirk was all gone.
"Hmm... is it The Hedonist or maybe The Curator?" I placed my hand under my chin, fingers tapping against my lips.
Orochi, in his human form, was not an eight-headed human. Instead, they were eight completely different-looking people. All of them shared the sa mory. And all believed they were the real ones. But their faces and personalities were completely different.
All Orochis were scattered across the three realms. And for a being who’s lived for hundreds of years, he was a perfect information gatherer.
A neutral figure.
"Choose whichever comforts you," Orochi said as he slid one teacup towards .
"It matters little. When one speaks, all listen." He picked up his teacup and savoured the scent of tea before smiling again.
’The hedonist.’ I thought. I knew it because of how calm he was. Any other might have slit my throat-
"Any other might have slit your throat. You don’t seem to fear death, Prince?" He said and smirked.
"Fear is for those who still cling to life", I replied and picked up the cup.
"Why did you find ?" He asked.
"What more can I want from a being that lives across the realms except information," I replied.
"Then it appears you’ve co here in vain. Because I’m no broker, and I fear I might not have the information you desire. You even know of ," he said.
"Neutrality is the finest disguise of a broker, and to say that I know you would be an exaggeration," I said.
"Oh?" He raised his brows and asked, "Then how are you so sure that the one you’re talking to is the Orochi you seek?"
"Call it instinct," I replied.
"You travelled to a different state, leaving your academic responsibilities as a professor, not just as a prince, and then you happen to find a decent tavern, requested the bartender to et the owner, who just happens to be your old friend, all based on instinct?" He asked and took a sip of tea.
"Maybe..." I muttered. "Call it a coincidence,"
"Alright," Orochi nodded. "Speak. What is it that you want?"
’Heh~’ I smirked in my mind. Orochi’s position is sowhat different.
He used to be one of the closest aids of the Demon lord. But now he was nothing more than a deserter.
His powers were reduced significantly, he was stripped of his glory, and not much was known about his backstory, except for a certain... developnt.
And only developers knew of that part of his backstory.
In the ga, he was your typical informant. If you want to know anything, just approach Orochi in his tavern.
This wasn’t a role he decided out of will. But he just had no other choice. That’s why he observed everything, but refrained from taking reckless actions.
If he chooses to use his powers, the remnants of his demonic energy will be traced by the church.
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