Witch's Daughter And The Devil's Son

The sun had set when the three friends entered one of the taverns on the outskirts of the capital most frequented by mercenaries and adventurers who weren't locals of the city. It was better this way as there were less chances of coming across someone familiar.

The group luckily found an empty table despite the rowdy crowd.

In addition to them wearing hunting attires commoners use, their appearances were changed to have the most common features--their skin somewhat darker, their hair an ordinary brown colour--for them not to stand out. Though for Drayce, he could not hide the colour of his eyes so he had to sit on the chair facing the wall with his back to the crowd.

Since most people inside the tavern were either too busy with their own affairs or too drunk to care for others, he did not need to worry that the colour of his eyes would give his identity away.

Arlan looked at Slayer as soon as they sat down. "You lightweight, don't you dare drink as much as we would. I do not want to be seen hauling around a drunk man."

Slayer would normally ignore such provocation, but perhaps the atmosphere within the noisy tavern made him feel more relaxed, he could not help but retort,  "I am not a lightweight. I merely limit my drinking to a single bottle since I am technically still on duty as a knight."

"Pfft. Excuses of the guy who can't hold more than two bottles of liquor."

Arlan looked at Drayce. "He still thinks he can fool us. He insists he doesn't remember, but he went crazy drunk that one time he went over his limit. It was so hilarious!"

Drayce waved for a server to approach them. "Being a lightweight doesn't make him less of a man."

Slayer frowned at his two friends. Drayce's response did not make him feel good--it meant even he himself acknowledged that Slayer could not hold his liquor.

Just then, a young man who was serving tables approached them.

"Bring the strongest drink you have," Slayer ordered instead of his two friends.

The server left after confirming their order while Arlan chuckled at the annoyed knight. "Oh, I know that beer the server recommended. It's famous in the South and twice as strong than the locally brewed one."

It did not take long for the server to return with three huge wooden mugs filled with frothing beer and a plate of roasted meat.

Thud!

Arlan pushed a mug towards Slayer. "I bet on only one mug."

"I bet on one and a half," Drayce said after consideration.

"I bet on two," the server said as he observed Slayer's cold face. "Yell for me when you need the second round of drinks." The young man left as he hurried to attend to the other customers.

Arlan's laughter rang out while hitting the table with his hand. "Did you hear that? Did you? Would you like to say anything, my dear lightweight friend?".

"What would he say? Even a stranger can predict his drinking ability," Drayce commented.

Slayer said nothing and grabbed the huge wooden mug filled with beer Arlan pushed his way. He was obviously affected by his friends' teasing remarks and started gulping with the intention of emptying that mug in one go.

"Take it easy, Slayer," Drayce said but Slayer didn't look like in the mood to listen.

"He has always been stubborn even when he was a teenager. Instead of maturing, being an adult only made it worse." Arlan commented as he took a big gulp of his beer. "Oh, that's refreshing! It's stronger than I remember." He then took a big bite of the roasted meat, eating in a carefree manner similar to the mercenaries around him.

Drayce merely shook his head as he drank his own beer.

​ Thud!

Slayer slammed his empty wooden mug on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Without looking at his companions, he turned towards the busy server. "Hey, one more round of drinks here!"

His manly voice was loud enough for him to be heard even over the noise of the crowded tavern. The server ran towards their table with three more mugs in his hands. Drayce and Arlan were not surprised and the two merely shrugged at each other.

Slayer picked up the second mug and heard the server cheer for him. "Mister, you can finish it. I am sure." The young man then looked at Arlan and Drayce with a cheeky smile. "I will wait for my reward for winning the bet." With a chuckle, he left before the two could say anything.

Arlan raised a brow at Drayce. "That cheeky punk. When did we agree to give him anything?" Even though he sounded like he was complaining, Arlan was grinning, as if he was enjoying the casual interaction he couldn't experience due to his real identity.

"You won't be poor even if you give him a bag of gold coins," Drayce commented as he continued to drink.

"Oh, you think both of us would lose the bet?"

Drayce looked at Slayer who was trying to finish the second mug, but he seemed to struggle even downing a third. "I am yet to lose the bet."

"I can't be the only one losing," Arlan frowned and looked at the knight whose face had turned all red. He could not help but cheer.

"Come on. You can do it!"

"Finish all of that."

"Be a man and drink it all!"

As his last ditch effort, Arlan threatened him, "If you don't empty that mug, I will drop your drunk ass in a brothel and pay those beautiful women to serve you well tonight!"

As if those words truly intimidated Slayer, he didn't stop gulping even though he felt like he would throw up soon.

Thud!

Slayer slammed the empty mug on the table with a force enough to dent the surface. His face was so red it looked like a tomato, and with his half-lidded eyes, he started hiccuping. It took him several seconds to find the real Arlan among the five blurry figures in front of him.

"Don't... you... dare..." he struggled to speak in between hiccups.

Thud!

This time, it was Slayer's head that slammed against the wooden table. He had completely lost consciousness.

"You did well! Hah, I am so proud of you!" Arlan almost fell out of his chair in laughter.  "How could such a strong knight be so weak when it comes to drinking?"

"And yet you still forced him," Drayce countered as he munched on the roasted meat. He had finished the first mug of beer.

"As if I was the only one. Don't forget you didn't stop him--you wanted it too," Arlan said as he took a gulp of his beer. He playfully patted Slayer's shoulder, but the man wouldn't wake up. "He is always so furious whenever we mention brothels to him. I wonder why he is like that." He smirked at Drayce. "Do you think he is fine down there?"

"He is absolutely fine," Drayce assured him.

Arlan offered him a questioning gaze, his tone accusing. "How would you know?"

"As if you really doubt him. He is our friend so don't you know already?"

"Well..."

Just then, the server came to them with more mugs and picked up the emptied ones. "Mister finished two mugs! I won the bet. Does this mean I get a reward?"

Arlan sighed and pulled out a pouch of coins. "I am the guest here. Why am I paying? That man there," Arlan looked at Drayce, "can give you more than this."

Drayce didn't wait for the server to say anything and handed him another pouch of coins.

The young man didn't expect to get a reward like this as he was merely expecting a tip of one or two bronze coins. He immediately bowed to them. "Thank you so much, gentlemen! Please tell me if I can do anything for you."

Arlan carefully studied him. "Hmm? Anything?"

The server cleverly nodded while Drayce pondered quietly as he knew Arlan's habit well. Coming to a tavern outside of the city was not only for the drinks, but it was the place where a large number of random people come and go. Regardless of its rumour or news, a tavern was the best place to get to hear what was happening around.

The server hid the pouches in his pocket as he stood in attention. "Yes, misters. I hear a lot of stories from the customers I serve. Do you have anything you're particularly interested in?"

Arlan acted as if he was thinking something and then spoke, "Nothing really stands out. We are just a group of bored men. You can tell us anything interesting that comes to mind."

The server thought about what he could tell. By looking at the behaviour of the three, he guessed these customers were a group of friends, probably easygoing nobles in disguise who wanted to relax away from the eyes of society.

"Ah! This should be interesting.  A couple of days ago, I think? Suspicious people came here when the tavern was at its busiest. Like tonight."

"Oh, really?" Arlan acted like a gossip-loving nobleman. "What do you mean suspicious?"

"They give off this vibe like they don't belong here."

Arlan gave him a displeased look. "Hey, you.  What is so suspicious about random people like us? Do you find us suspicious as well?"

The server let out an awkward chuckle. "Of course not, mister. I can identify gentlemen easily. I find nothing suspicious about you three."

Arlan offered him an appreciative nod. "You sure are so smart."

"Thank you," the server said as sighed in relief and went into gossip mode. "So, what I mean is that those people didn't seem to be mercenaries or locals. They are suspicious because they keep asking about news of a purple- eyed woman."