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Lucian watched the strange scene outside the tavern with amusement and walked toward the door in puzzlement — morning was always the quietest time at a tavern.
At the entrance, a slender girl was peeking inside. Her pale golden hair swayed gently as her head turned from side to side. When she sighed and turned around, she gave a start: "Lucian?"
Another person who knew him but whom he didn't know? Lucian was already well accustomed to this sort of thing. He smiled. "Here at the tavern so early?"
The girl's wheat-colored skin flushed scarlet. "I just heard that the Copper Crown Tavern had gotten a new Bard, and I was curious. I thought I'd stop by before helping Mom with her errands. All right, I don't have much time left — I'd better go."
Watching the girl rush off, Lucian let out a soft "oh." It seemed this new Bard was either quite handsome or had a remarkable singing voice.
None of that had anything to do with Lucian, though, so he gently pushed open the half-closed tavern door and stepped inside.
Dim space, the strong smell of alcohol, wooden floorboards creaking loudly under his feet, tables and chairs piled haphazardly about — this was Lucian's first impression of the Copper Crown Tavern. Stepping in from the fresh, bright morning outside felt like entering an entirely different world.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust before he could make out where the bar counter was.
Several men who had passed out from drink on the tavern floor were jolted awake by the sound of Lucian's footsteps. After mumbling a few curses, they slumped back onto the tables and fell sound asleep again.
Only one man sat quietly — a man in his thirties with a hawkish nose, wearing a fitted black longcoat, perched on a chair beside the bar. He sipped slowly at a glass of amber-colored liquor, giving off a gloomy air.
At Lucian's arrival, the gloomy man merely glanced at him before returning to savor the drink in his hand.
Lucian looked around and quickly spotted the dwarf snoring away behind the bar. He was perched on a tall, single-legged stool with his head resting against the counter, snoring loudly. His golden beard, tied in a bow, was damp with drool.
Seeing that without some outside intervention the dwarf didn't look like he'd wake for ages, Lucian had no choice but to curl his fingers and knock on the bar — thud, thud, thud.
Amid the muddled cursing of the drunkards behind him, the elderly dwarf swayed and slowly raised his head, his eyes bleary: "Hey, Lucian, you've finally grown up! You've finally grasped the meaning of fine wine in life! Come, have a drink — a toast to our new guest!"
"Uncle Koen, it's daytime," Lucian said carefully.
Koen rubbed his eyes and peered at the dim surroundings. "I'm not drunk — don't try to trick me. This is obviously nighttime. What a beautiful night."
After a meaningless exchange, Koen finally came fully awake. "Lucian, there's not much that suits you. There's no long-term work available at the moment. As for odd jobs — first, at nine in the morning, Gucci's little shop in the Market District needs a batch of goods carted from the warehouse to the Gate District. They're short-handed. Three Copper Fel, but you know how it is — the Allen Gang has a stranglehold on this sort of thing, so you'll have to hand over one Copper Fel to them. What's left won't buy much more than the worst black bread."
"Second, the
"A little after one in the afternoon, there are a few more jobs like that, but unless you're a Knight, there's no way you'd make it back inside the city before dark."
Lucian nodded. The Musicians' Association job was clearly the best of the lot. Meanwhile, he mused to himself: "The seven coins in my pocket — those must be Copper Fel."
"Uncle Koen, are there any jobs that pay better?" Lucian asked out of curiosity.
Koen burst into laughter. "Ha ha ha, of course there are! But none of them suit you. Those are jobs that require real men to risk their lives and strength. You're still a kid who wouldn't dare drink ale."
Then he pointed to the open floor in the center of the tavern and grew somewhat serious. "The Dark Mountains are the greatest treasure trove there is. Every year — three, five, six, seven — forget it, I've lost count. The point is, an enormous number of mercenaries and adventurers go into the Dark Mountains, but only a tiny, tiny fraction make it back out." Koen let out a belch. "Of course, they all strike it rich."
"Don't underestimate those mercenaries and adventurers — quite a few among them are true Knights, and even some Great Knights." A soft yet magnetic voice came from behind Lucian. Every sentence ended with an oddly upward lilt, giving his speech a peculiar rhythmic beauty — alluring and elegant.
Lucian quickly turned to see a silver-haired man walking out from the section of the tavern that had been partitioned off as an inn. Slim-fitting trousers, a crimson vest, a high-collared black overcoat — formally tailored clothing that somehow looked utterly languid and casual on him. His features were sharply defined and refined: silver irises, a straight, high nose, thin lips, all framed by a mane of silky silver hair. He was exotic and strikingly handsome — looking at him felt like gazing upon a silver moon in the night sky.
The young man carried a harp similar to Joel's and strolled over at a leisurely pace.
So this is the new Bard? Lucian guessed to himself, then asked with puzzlement: "Aren't Knights all nobility by birth? Why would they venture into the Dark Mountains to seek fortune?"
Koen called out a greeting: "Hey, Rhein — care for a drink?"