Chapter 25

Lekh and Mekh stayed outside to keep watch. Yan and Morik went inside.

And the moment they did, the rogue immediately said:

“Hah, nice place.”

“You bet!” Morik replied.

The tavern looked expensive. Oak and pine everywhere, a patterned stone floor laid out in huge mosaics. Oak supports and a high ceiling. A spiral staircase leading to the second and third floors. Candles, braziers, and oil lamps everywhere.

The place was packed with all kinds of people: goblins, trolls, orcs, elves, demi-humans—even a couple of demons had somehow worked their way into the general rabble. The tables groaned under food and drink, a massive fireplace blazed beside the bar, and from the doors leading to the kitchen came noise, shouting, and the smell of roasting meat.

“I’ll have to tell Degemon it’s time to change the interior of his little dive,” Yan said with a smile.

“Who, Mister Lim?” Morik asked.

“Oh, no one important. Just an acquaintance of mine who runs a tavern between worlds,” Yan waved him off. “He’s clearly lacking in atmosphere.”

“I see. Well, perhaps you’ll introduce us someday, Mister Lim. Once we’re done with all this nonsense.”

“Absolutely,” the rogue replied.

“In that case, please follow me. I’ll introduce you to Semyu. There he is, actually, chatting with some pointy-eared fellow by the bar,” Morik said, leading Yan after him.

Semyu turned out to be a huge middle-aged man with a thick head of hair and enormous mustaches. One of his arms was the size of three of Yan’s.

“Hey, Semyu!” Morik called out cheerfully.

The innkeeper turned around and looked at the mage with suspicion.

Yan tensed. Had the friend stopped being a friend?

But then the innkeeper suddenly broke into the kindest smile in the world and scooped the mage into a hug the moment he came close.

“Ha-ha! Morik! Damn, I’m glad to see you! How many months has it been?”

“About seven or six, probably. Since they took everything from us,” the sorcerer replied, crawling out of the big man’s embrace.

“You be careful out there. Aradeyn isn’t what it used to be. The laws have gotten stricter. Every day some new band of thugs comes around trying to take my tavern from me,” Semyu replied cheerfully.

“A band? Musical?” the sorcerer asked.

“I wish.” Semyu shook his head with a sigh. “I see you didn’t come alone?” The innkeeper nodded toward Yan, who had walked up behind him.

“Right! This is my new friend, Semyu. His name is Lim Lucius Leadastray. Though for some reason everyone in our company calls him Yan, while I call him Mister Lim. He’s an adventurer.”

“Nice to meet you, Lim,” Semyu replied, extending a hand to the lad and squeezing his so hard that the poor rogue actually squeaked. “I hope you’re not trying to swindle Morik somehow, huh?” the innkeeper’s mustache said to Yan. “He’s a very naive sorcerer, which makes him far too kind. And far too prone to getting mixed up in questionable adventures… with adventurers.”

“No… of course not…” Yan rasped, grimacing in pain.

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Semyu replied, finally letting go of the lad’s hand.

Yan whimpered pitifully.

“Well then, in that case, how can I help you, Morik? Or rather, you gentlemen,” he said, addressing the mage and the rogue at the same time.

“O-o-oh, now that is a very good question, old friend,” Morik replied. “Do you still have that secret room for secret negotiations?”

“Of course. I’m offended you even had to ask,” replied the innkeeper’s mustache. Or perhaps the innkeeper himself. God, his face was ridiculously wide.

“In that case, I’d tell you everything there.”

“Tell him?” Yan cut in, surprised.

“Yes, Mister Lim, don’t worry. I’ll explain everything to Semyu myself, rest assured. Lean on me!” Morik assured him.

Yan had no desire to lean on the half-mad sorcerer. But he had to.

A moment later, Morik and Semyu disappeared into the secret room, leaving Yan behind at the bar.

He was left alone with himself. And with a mug of strong mead. Maybe that was for the best. His head was still buzzing from this morning, after all, and he could use a moment to catch his breath.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get one. Because of his unusual clothes, the lad was quickly mistaken for a bartender, and he ended up having to play bartender behind the counter.

Wonderful.

“Something’s been upside down all damn day,” Yan thought as he poured another pint of beer for yet another completely shitfaced mage-or-maybe-dwarf.

“Next!”

“Do you have scarlet-red wine and sweet blackberry cones?” said the next customer. “I haven’t had a thing since morning—I’ve been on the road.”

Yan looked up and froze for a moment when he saw a man wrapped in purple-and-silver, with a red mask over his face.

The rogue’s instinct kicked in instantly—he thought it was one of the Jesters of Archbishop Kont Dyu. But when he noticed that the customer was staring at him in surprise as well, he quickly came to his senses.

Yan recognized the clothes. They were the traveling robes of Encantaria. Special robes designed to suppress the magical aura of whoever wore them. Apparently, these were those very “guests from other worlds” Julius had told him about. The same ones who had arrived for the formal reception that Yan and a whole pack of other scoundrels intended to crash.

Tomorrow.

At around eight in the evening.

“Hey, brother, how long are you gonna stand there like you’ve grown roots?” another voice suddenly said, and Mai stepped up beside Kver. At first, the bodyguard didn’t understand what was happening, but the moment he saw Yan, his posture immediately changed from relaxed to “I’m about to pounce on you.”

“Um, gentlemen?” Yan forced a smile.

The rogue frantically began recalling everything he knew about Encantaria.

And, of course, whether the great magical state knew how much they were paying for the head of the famous Grim Gar Fitzgerald.

“How much longer are you two going to take?” a third contender suddenly appeared beside the trio, dressed in the white-and-blue garb of the Magical Vault. “Tiss is already complaining that we still haven’t gotten out of here. He hates the smell of drunks.”

“Tell him to… deal with it,” Kver replied curtly, then suddenly leaned toward Yan—but without drawing a weapon. He simply bent forward.

“Hey, hey! Please keep yourself under control, sir!” Yan protested. “Bartenders are protected by a special interworld code guaranteeing the protection and inviolability of every bartender in the entire Universe. Haven’t you heard of it?”

The three exchanged looks.

For a while, silence hung between them.

“Hah. Seriously?” Kver said, folding his arms.

That was when Yan caught sight of scarlet armor and black clothing beneath the robe as it parted.

“Seriously!” the rogue replied. “And really, who should know about that better than a respected knight of Encantaria? You people are terrible sticklers and bureaucrats. You should know details like that by heart.”

“Ha-ha,” Mai laughed quietly, but immediately fell silent when Kver’s boot came down on his toe.

“You?..” Nik suddenly cut in, but for some reason stopped, narrowing his eyes through his masquerade mask. “Your shirt collar is completely crumpled.”

“What? Where?” Yan asked in surprise, no longer even understanding how the conversation had wandered this far into absolute nonsense.

“Let me fix it,” the Vault guard replied, stepping behind the bar and busily straightening the rogue’s collar while whistling. And while he was at it, every other crease, dent, and scuff in Yan’s clothes as well.

All the while, Yan could feel the fixed stare of two eyes from beneath the mask, so he obediently waited for this circus to end.

“There. Much better,” Nik said, stepping back. Then he caught the surprised looks of Yan, Kver, and Mai and gave an embarrassed huff.

“What? Professional habit.”

“Of course, of course!” Mai replied, spreading his hands.

Yan still couldn’t understand what was happening. But this wasn’t quite the same kind of “I don’t understand” as with Morik, or Chadun, or pretty much anyone else.

There was something different here.

There was some kind of magic here.

“S-say, gentlemen, have we perhaps met somewhere before?” Yan asked offhandedly, setting their wine and cones down in front of the trio. His hands, after all, kept working no matter what.

“Hah. Depends who’s asking,” Kver replied mockingly, taking the bottle.

“Lim Lucius Leadastray,” Yan answered immediately.

The three exchanged looks again.

“No, never met you,” Mai said, shrugging theatrically.

“Still, that doesn’t mean you can’t have a drink with us. What do you say?” Kver suddenly offered, waving the bottle in front of the rogue.

The offer was damn tempting.