Fool – Part 04
Cecily stormed into the main house of Atelier Liza.
“Take me somewhere I can drink!” she bellowed.
“Huh?”
“What?”
Luke and Lisa turned around in unison, blinking in confusion.
With teary eyes and a flushed face, Cecily added, “D-Drinking helps with stress, right? Isn’t that what people do? Drown their sorrows in alcohol? And you’ll join me, won’t you?!”
Overwhelmed by her intensity, the master of the forge and his assistant nodded.
The best place to enjoy a drink in the Independent Trade City was the entertainment hub located in the Second District.
By day, it was filled with casual eateries serving a variety of local and foreign dishes, but when night fell, the whole place transformed. The streets lit up with jewel-steel lamps, and the establishments shifted to serving alcohol. Even in the dead of night, the area stayed bright and filled with the voices of intoxicated people.
Luke took Cecily to the largest tavern in the city. It wasn’t your typical indoor setup. The tavern sprawled across Clock Tower Plaza, with countless tables and chairs arranged under the open sky. There was a seasonal, summer-only event going on known as the Brew Bonanza, named so because it offered a wide selection of alcoholic drinks sourced from across the continent.
“I usually go somewhere else,” Luke said, “but since you’re new to this, this is a good place to start. They’ve got plenty of options, so you’ll definitely find something you like.”
Craftsmen and mercenaries, fresh off work, were drinking merrily. Jewel steel embedded in the tables cast a soft orange glow that deepened the flush on the patrons’ faces. Staff hurried between tables, serving drinks and platters of food. A drunk mercenary tried to grope a dark-skinned waitress and was slapped hard. With various establishments working together, the staff wore different uniforms. One owner, face painted like a street performer, entertained the crowd. The tables were piled with whole roasted chickens, mounds of stir-fried beans, and heaps of roughly chopped vegetables. In the heart of the Brew Bonanza, a band played string and keyboard instruments, their melodies weaving through the crowd’s chatter and laughter.
The warm summer breeze stirred the excitement in the air rather than calming it. Of course, Cecily and Luke weren’t the only ones who had come. Lisa and Aria, the latter looking forward to this since the talk of going to the tavern came up, immediately started talking as soon as they took their seats.
“So, what should we drink?” Aria asked.
“Cecily, do you know anything about alcohol?” Lisa added.
“Uh, not really.”
“How about starting with kumis? It’s light on alcohol,” Aria suggested.
“Kumis is really sour, though,” Lisa countered. “It might not be the best choice for a newbie.”
“I like it, though.”
“What about mead?”
“What do you think, Cecily?”
“I-I’ll leave it to you.”
“I’ll have wine,” Lisa decided.
“Oh, that sounds nice,” Aria said. “I’ll have the same. Mead it is for Cecily, then.”
“Luke, what about you?” Lisa asked.
“Just beer.”
“Excuse me! We’d like to order,” Lisa called.
“Order us some food, too.”
“Wait, really?”
Demons, it seemed, were particular not only about food but also alcohol. While the two were getting excited, Cecily shrank back awkwardly. Being out of her element made her uncomfortable. When she asked earlier, she found out that she was the only one among the four without any drinking experience.
“I only drink occasionally, usually with dinner,” Luke explained.
“I just join him when he does,” Lisa added. “Lately, that’s been more often.”
“I drink sometimes when Fio offers,” Aria said.
Cecily felt like the odd one out. Her family kept wine at home, but it was mostly for guests. Currently, no one in the Campbell household drank—except for Fio Atkins, the housekeeper, who sometimes sneaked a glass behind the master’s back.
Noticing a large shadow cast over the plaza, Cecily looked up.
“The clock tower.”
The pillar-shaped clock tower, which gave the plaza its name, stood tall at the edge of the hub. Doubling as a lookout tower for the Knight Guard, it was the tallest structure in the Independent Trade City, visible from anywhere within its boundaries.
At the top of the tower hung a giant bell that rang out across the city. Unlike the Empire, where clock faces marked the hours, citizens of the Second District relied on the sound of the bell, rung by the tower’s keeper, to tell time. The keeper used either sundials or the water clock inside the tower to keep track of the hours.
So tall.
Cecily had never climbed up there, as it was outside her patrol route. The memory of her reckless dive into the Clawmark crept back into her mind, sending a chill down her spine. She never wanted to go through something like that again.
While Cecily restlessly scanned her surroundings, Luke, seated across from her, pulled a small pouch from his pocket. From it, he took out a slip of paper and some finely-shredded leaves. He placed the leaves on the paper, rolled them up into a cylinder, and moistened the edge with his tongue to seal it before slipping it into his mouth. Without missing a beat, Lisa produced a pebble-sized jewel steel from somewhere and, with a slight touch, ignited the end of the paper. A small flame flared up before it settled into a slow burn. Luke inhaled the tobacco smoke, exhaling smoothly, while Lisa casually stowed the jewel steel and returned to her conversation with Aria.
Cecily, stunned by Lisa’s remarkable skill, asked Luke, “Is that… tobacco?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “I tend to smoke when I drink. If it bothers you, I’ll put it out.”
“No, it’s fine.”
Tobacco was something Cecily wasn’t familiar with. He was smoking rolled tobacco. Though cheaper and more common than pipes or cigars, it didn’t seem like Atelier Liza was thriving enough for him to indulge in such luxuries. Especially considering they were also forging the Sacred Sword, which could determine the fate of the continent.
Sensing her confusion, Luke exhaled a cloud of smoke and said, “We get regular funding from the city to cover blacksmithing expenses. Imagine if I told them I couldn’t make a Sacred Sword because we were broke. The money I make from my regular work goes toward living expenses.”
“Wait a minute!” Cecily shot up from her seat. “I thought you were obsessed with money like some greedy miser because you were struggling financially.”
“Who are you calling a greedy miser? We’re not broke. I just don’t like living extravagantly. This is an occasional indulgence, that’s all.”
Given their modest lifestyle, Cecily had assumed they were barely scraping by.
“So, what about my katana?”
“That’s different. The funds for the Sacred Sword are solely for that. If you want me to make you a katana, you’ll have to pay for it out of your own pocket.”
“You tightwad!”
“What are you, ten?”
The demons sitting nearby chuckled.
Soon, their drinks arrived. In front of Cecily sat a glass of mead, a type of alcohol made from fermented honey. She cautiously took a small sip. It had a smooth texture and a cool sweetness to it, but soon after, a slight bitterness settled in her throat and stomach, making her grimace. Honestly, it wasn’t exactly tasty.
Meanwhile, the others downed their drinks in no time, quickly ordering second rounds.
“So good!” Lisa exclaimed.
Cecily began to wonder if maybe her own taste buds were the problem. She took another sip, and then another. Warmth spread through her belly.
“So,” Luke said once she had settled a little bit. “What happened?”
“Ah, right.”
Still a bit fuzzy, Cecily recounted the events from the mayor’s office.
“And now I’m stuck guarding that man until the ball.”
After the end of the Valbanill War, the Continental Law Commission began holding regular gatherings in the neutral Independent Trade City to unify the continent. Attended by nobles, military officials, and powerful merchants from various nations, these gatherings were called balls, likely to emphasize the social and interactive part.
Siegfried planned to attend while he was dealing with the retrieval of the Inhuman’s remains and the capture of the death row convict. With his bodyguard Francisca tied up in the search, he appointed the Knight Guard—specifically Cecily—to handle his protection during that time.
“Unfortunately, that means I’m on call starting tomorrow until the ball.”
“He’s definitely terrorizing you.”
“Right?!”
The thought of it made Cecily’s blood boil. Frustrated, she gulped down the rest of her mead. Her body burned with rage, and her throat felt dry.
“Seriously! Who does he think he is?! Tsk, out of drinks already. More, please!”
“You get pretty feisty when you’re drunk, huh?”
“What did you say?!”
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