Assimilate All Talents

The grand feast carried on well into the evening, filled with laughter and loud banter. The energy in the room, already wild with celebration, rose to another level when Chieftain Kuruck had the servants bring out his personal reserve of Tier 10 alcohol.

The bottles that held these potent brews were masterfully crafted, etched with preservation runes and sealed with a green crystal topper.

"This," Kuruck said proudly, raising one high into the air, "isn’t something you drink every day. But tonight’s no ordinary night. With the Rite of Ascension near, and a guest of great honor among us, I say... why not let loose?"

He uncorked the bottle with a satisfying pop, and the scent alone made several of the weaker siblings’ eyes go hazy, some of them visibly woozy just from the smell. Tier 10 brews were no joke, widely considered pseudo-legendary potions—or poisons—requiring years of preparation and ingredients gathered from rare beasts, mythical herbs, and magical processes few could even attempt. It was by no means easy to produce, and Kuruck himself had only four bottles ever made. But only something this potent could even begin to affect A-Rankers.

Before pouring a drink for himself, Kuruck poured a small cup for Sol.

Sol, when offered, politely declined with a shake of his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I can’t tonight."

Kuruck, with thunderous enthusiasm, waved a hand dismissively. "Come now, one cup won’t kill you! You’ve bested monsters, navigated ancient ruins, and escaped death itself—and you’re telling me a drink is your limit?"

The table burst into laughter, and even some of the more inebriated orcs began chanting. Orla gave Sol a playful grin. "Just one. You won’t regret it."

"Hahaha... Alright fine, pour me one." Under the weight of their combined pressure, Sol finally relented and accepted a small cup.

Kuruck poured drinks for Rodgul, Orla, and himself, while the others were served lower tier brews, ranging from Tier 6 to Tier 9, based on their tolerance. Only two were left without drinks. Reena, who strongly declined their offers, and Thorwyn, who was also left out after Sol explained he was too young to drink, leaving the poor wolf grumbling with a soft, disappointed whine.

Sol assumed it wouldn’t taste particularly good, but the moment the liquid touched his lips, he was taken aback. It had a fruity, whisky-like flavor and went down incredibly smooth. He drank it all in one go, and it hit fast. A buzzing warmth spread through his limbs, clouding his mind just enough to make his thoughts pleasantly fuzzy.