Chapter 118: The Best
Asher was momentarily stunned by the sight before him. It was still only 11 a.m., yet these men were already gathered, drinking without a care in the world, as though they lived in a perpetual state of bliss.
Weapons could be seen resting on the tables, hanging at their waists, or strapped to their backs.
’It seems they’ve been here since last night,’ Asher mused, glancing around at the shattered wooden cups strewn across the floor and a few left abandoned atop the tables.
’I wonder if they could outdrink dwarves,’ he thought absently. But dwarves didn’t exist in this world, so there was no way to truly know.
With that idle thought, he walked towards the counter with steady, composed steps. Behind it stood a bartender, wiping a wooden cup with a black towel in hand.
"Hoo... A new face. Where did such a young and handsome man emerge from?" the bartender asked with a smile. As the owner of the bar, one that attracted a steady stream of income and an endless flow of customers, he was familiar with nearly every commoner man in the Wargrave territory. Most had come in for a drink at least once or twice.
"I’m new. I’m considering relocating to the Wargrave Ducal territory. I came from a Barony territory far to the east. There were frequent monster invasions in the village I lived in, and the death count kept climbing each day. So I left, hoping to settle here... I don’t want to die," Asher replied smoothly, crafting a backstory on the spot with such ease it felt second nature, almost as though lying was an instinct.
He moved and took a seat in front of the counter without asking for permission, not that he needed to.
"Hoo... Monster invasions are all too common these days, and deadly for nobles who lack guards to keep the threats at bay," the bartender said with a sigh, setting the cup down and picking up another to clean.
"But at least now you’re in the Wargrave Ducal territory. No beast or monster would dare invade here. You can live your life in peace. Besides, one of the best perks of living here is the tax exemption," the bartender added with a proud smile.
Asher paused mid-thought. "Tax exemptions?" he asked, intrigued.
"Indeed. Although Duke Azeron pays annual taxes to the Emperor at the end of every year, he doesn’t collect taxes from lower class commoners. Only the rich merchants and powerful warriors who live near their estate pay taxes," the bartender explained further, his tone almost as though he were tempting Asher to move in permanently.