Re: Level 100 Farmer

"You, a demon? What could your kind possibly be doing here after being so embarrassingly routed just thirty years ago?" Iona hissed.

Li looked back at the adventurers, hoping they were out of earshot. They were already a ways down the main road so that their backs were smidgens in the distance, excited as they were to have an excuse to get drinks.

Zagan raised his head at Iona and simply stared at her. He did not growl or bare his teeth. "I will not debase myself to engage with a little pup of a spirit such as you."

Iona's hands clenched into fists as she waved them in the air, wanting to vent her indignation but knowing that before her was a demon herald, one of the seven bearers of the cardinal sins and, correspondingly, a being of immense might that she could never challenge.

"You killed these forests. All the life around here, all these woods, the Winterwoods -your kind killed it all."

Zagan turned his gaze to Li. "This one is rather loud. Shall I quieten her for you? I understand she is of some use to you. I will ensure she will not die. She will merely know her place."

"W-what?" Iona protested. She also turned to Li. "O guardian, the demon before you lies. I do not know what he said to enter your service, but his kind has destroyed all the forests here in the south. All he will bring upon you, upon this farm, is untold chaos and destruction."

Li put up a commanding hand to enforce order. Both Iona and Zagan looked at him expectantly. "I understand that the two of you have differences, but I've also gotten to know both of you and I can confidently say that you are reasonable and intelligent. In any ordinary circumstance, I understand you would have been enemies, but under my command, I won't tolerate any discord. Take this chance to try and talk to each other instead of hurling accusations and threats."

Zagan gave Iona a sideways glance and sighed a little, his black-furred chest heaving up and down with lazy effort. "Very well. Our master wishes us to talk. Consider it an honor for you to even address one such as I without having the last dregs of your existence smote away from this world."

"Talk?" Iona bit her lip. "How do I even begin to talk to you? You killed my kind."

"Hm." Zagan nodded his head. "I can tell you that my personage has never struck a spirit of the forests such as yourself. Thirty years ago, I was not a herald. I was a mere warrior, eager to feast upon the mortals. I spent my days tormenting beastmen so that even now, they draw warning murals of my terrible visage shadowing over their flimsy villages."

"The beastmen were good! They were kind, respectful."

Zagan laughed. "Tell me you do not sympathize with the mortals. No, that cannot be. You are merely grasping at straws, attempting to pin some blame upon my personage to channel a hate that has brewed within you, unsatisfied, for many years."

"You came north then," continued Iona quickly, trying to justify herself. "But all the forest guardians in the south – you killed them."

"In the north, where I fought, we did not touch a single one of your kin. Your brethren let our armies pass for you understood that the mortals were a thorn in your side. Your friends in the south, however, were far too fond of these mortals, coddling them to their breast as if they were their babes and fighting our advances every step of the way." Zagan scoffed. "We did not wish to harm the forest spirits, but they stood in our way."

"You-"

"You continue to address me as 'you', as if to blame all the actions of my kind unto my single personage. I shall forgive that transgression for I am aware that forest spirits are communal, there is a stronger sense of 'we' amongst your kind. But for demonkind, there is but the individual – the strongest survives, the weak are consumed.

I cannot absolve my kind for the deaths of your kin, but I do not take responsibility either. And were your kin in the south powerful enough, they would have repelled us, and I am sure we would have respected that power. But they were weak, so they perished. That is the bare, simple truth."

Zagan laid down now, paws crossed atop each other, as the hellfire in his eyes dimmed and he became increasingly bored. "And as I understand, the destruction of your home, of all the forest spirits in the north, were due to mortal hand, no? I know the bitterness raging within your heart. You seek vengeance – my senses are keen to smell that out. But for reason's sake and your own safety, I suggest you direct that vengeance to those properly deserving."

Iona stared tight-lipped at Zagan for a full minute before she sighed, her back almost hunching as tension visibly released from her being. Her arms hung slack at her side before she shook her head. Her eyes regained their constant sense of tired calm, the hints of fiery emotion withering away.

"I'm sorry. You're right – we were a kindred species, linked together with the bonds of flowing life. When everyone died, my sisters, brothers, and my guardian, I felt the pain enough to kill me many times over, and when I saw you, for a second, I felt that pain – pain that I felt I had washed away by diluting myself with mortal souls – come back. But you are not responsible for that pain, I admit, no."

Zagan sighed impatiently. "Such is the folly of you younger spirits. You have not felt the centuries dance by. You do not understand how to put your pain into an eternal perspective. Your years are many, the mortals have few. That is all the more years for you to fight, not to engage in utter foolishness and submit to an eternal despair. So long as you live, you fight and stay strong – that is how you quench your vengeance, that is how you prove yourself above your aggressors. Wallowing in pity does nothing."

Iona nodded. "I will think upon your words. They do have grains of wisdom in them, and the guardian is right in that it is best for this farm that we don't have any resentment for each other."

"Resentment? My great personage never thought you deserving of that," said Zagan matter-of-factly.

"Yes, yes, I understand," sighed Iona, understanding that she would be getting used to looked down upon by a higher demon from now on. She turned to Li. "I'll be off soon. You should make merry with the adventurers. They'll be suspicious if you take too long. I must stay here for a while to take a more secretive way back to the city after they have entered."

Li looked at Iona, then at Zagan. "You two will be fine alone together?" he asked, knowing that whatever bad blood between them was just a fiery spark that had settled, but he still asked out of caution.

Iona gave an affirmative nod. "You should not worry, O guardian. I will ask the demon of how you run this farm and what you require help with. I am also rather curious as to how he came into your service."

"I would not address such a lowly spirit, but if it is for the sake of improving your usefulness to the master, then I will entertain you," said Zagan.

-----

When Li made his way into Riviera, he found the nightlife on overdrive. Riviera, the city built right next to a sparkling lake and holding a prestigious university was a hotbed of young energy, of wild nights out, of romantic lakeside walks and brief but intense passions only made possible with the flames of youth.

Food vendors – an omnipresent sight – hawked their wares, but their foodstuffs were very different at this time of the hour. As Li walked through the main marketplace now lit with an array of torches, he could hear the sizzling of oil and the smell of fried chicken as greasy goodness – perfect for helping the stomach prepare for a heavy dose of alcohol - overtook the baked goods of the day.

He ignored the vendors. At the center of the marketplace was a raised platform where a group of troubadours, basically performing musicians, played a high-energy song talking about a noble lady losing herself to a night of drunken partying. A common type of song for this time of the night.

He passed the marketplace and went up north, taking several stairs as he grew closer to the city hall. Beyond the hall, elevated even higher up, were the expansive noble estates, but he wasn't headed there. Instead, before he took the massive flight of stairs up to the city hall, he took a sharp right, heading eastwards where the adventurer's guild was.

In the night, it stood out as an austere building of brick and unpolished marble. Behind it lay a wooden barracks and courtyard where trainees were housed and prepped to fight monsters. The building itself was maybe four floors high, the windows barred and the door a massive hunk of rune-reinforced wood.

At the center of the door was carved in a sigil in the shape of sword.

It signaled that this was, rather uncreatively named, the guild of the sword, focused on training warriors and rangers, people who fought with their physical might. There were three other guilds located in each of the other cardinal cities.

That of the staff for mages, the dagger for assassins, and the sun for priests. Of course, all of the guilds allowed adventurers of any class to take their assignments, but each specialized in training a certain subset of adventurer.

Just a little further east of the guild stood the Gold Flagon, officially funded by the adventurer's guild. Adventurers got discounts here, and some events were limited to adventurers only. Usually, there would be two guards outside the door emblazoned with the image of a golden cup, but today they were absent.

It was the only tavern that he knew how to get to because Old Thane, at least when he was younger, only ever came here.

As far as taverns went, it was massive, with two upper floors dedicated as an inn to house overnight drunkards or the tired adventurer. And considering the dangerous and taxing line of work, there were plenty of adventurers that drank themselves silly to ease their stresses or needed a quick and cheap place to stay while they finished an assignment.

Tonight, the Gold Flagon lit up with life. All of its many windows shone a bright orange, the gleaming lanterns within providing more than enough lighting. The building almost seemed to shake, and when Li approached, he could hear even outside the rough shouting of adventurers, of glasses clinking and roaring laughs thundering outwards.

The moment Li opened the door, the warm and humid air within blasting him in the face, a horde of shouts greeted him, but one of them was louder than all the rest.

"There he is!" roared Vahid at the top of his lungs, his barrel-like chest straining as he thrust an entire pitcher into the air, beer at the top spilling over and quickly evaded by a rogue shot a quick glare at the bear of a man. "Ain't it the genius! Another round to celebrate his arrival!"

Despite Vahid's prodigious size, Old Thane shoved him easily to the side and waved at Li. "Come, lad, there be plenty of ale to come by!"

"All rounds on me," said Launcelot from a table to the side as he raised his arm shakily. He slumped forwards, preventing himself from faceplanting on the table only because of his party members holding him up straight.

Li closed the door behind him and let the crowd's energy flow through him. He took a seat by Vahid and Old Thane. He spied Old Thane holding a mug of beer and said, "Where's my drink, old man? You didn't get drunk without me, did you?"

"Not at all, lad, and I'll be a little loose on the drink, aye," said Old Thane. "Never in a thousand years would I behold your success with anything less than a clear mind."

"Expected nothin' less of the honorable Bloodfist," said Vahid. "But I ain't no abstainer." He jerked his head back and poured the entire contents of the pitcher into his mouth. The beer waterfalled into his mouth and emptied out completely, as if disappearing into a void. With a grunt, he took the empty pitcher and tossed it behind him, towards the barkeep's counter. "Barkeep! Bring the easterner here some liquor! The finest you've got – prettyboy moneybags over there is payin' anyway."

Vahid pointed to Launcelot, and the shield-bearer by this point mustered up a half-lucid thumbs up.

The barkeep, a stout man with a bald head that reflected the lantern light around him and a thick moustache, caught the pitcher, cleaned it in one swift motion with a rag, and took it under a barrel where he poured out a dark brown liquid.

"Say, easterner," said Vahid.

"Don't call me 'easterner'. It's Li."

Vahid nodded vigorously, his matted black dreadlocks swinging. "Sorry bout' that. So, Li, you a drinker?"

"I've drank my fair share," said Li, remembering when he used to use his money to chase after party after party to find something that would give him some excitement in life. "But nowadays I don't really consider myself one."

Old Thane shook his head at Vahid. "You're meaning to challenge the lad?"

"Whiskey, vintage 850, barreled and aged from the golden grains of Duvin, coming up!" The barkeep shouted from behind before tossing the pitcher full of expensive liquor expertly towards Vahid. The giant of a man didn't even look behind him as he caught the pitcher, keeping his pale gold eyes squared on Li with a massive grin.

"Don't be sweatin', Old Thane, this here's a man's man, I can see it in his eyes." Vahid took the pitcher and slid it towards Li. "You see, Li, I got a little challenge goin' for me. Outdrink men from every corner of the world. I've downed plenty of capitol pansies, beat out the roughshod northmen, stood number one amongst my fellow hinterlanders, and those so called alcohol experts down south in Duvin?"

Vahid grimaced. "All tasters, no drinkers. Drank em' under the table all in one go. Hells, I even edged out against them beastmen, tough bastards they were. But a man from the east? That ain't somethin' you see every day. So how bout' it?"

"Lad, don't mean to take from your moment, but you don't have to do this," said Old Thane.

Li smiled at Vahid. "Old man, the only thing you should be worrying about is who's going to manage to carry this guy back home, because it sure as hell won't be me."

Around so much energy, so much human energy, Li couldn't help but find himself drawn to all of it, a sense of nostalgia washing over him. In his past life, he had isolated himself from the world and all it had to offer because it could never offer him what he wanted, but now that he was living his dream, he could finally enjoy everything around him for what it was – just something to be enjoyed, not meant to fill voids in his heart.

"That settles it!" Vahid stood up, standing several heads taller than anyone in the room, and slammed his hand onto the table, the liquor in the pitcher sloshing dangerously near the top. "Everyone! Time for a challenge! Li here's gonna drink me under the table, he says!"

The adventurers grew quiet for a second before eagerly gathering around the table, forming a ring around it.

"Gods, ain't this like the fightin' pits in the capitol?" said Vahid as he eyed the eager faces around him. "Ain't nobody in this whole damn guild beat me, and I ain't bout' to lose today."

"A whole lot of talk, but I'm not seeing any drinking," said Li.

Vahid grabbed the pitcher and it looked like an ordinary size mug in his massive hand. "Alright, let's get to it. We ain't playin' like pansies here, Li. We drink full pitchers til' one of us knocks on the doors of Valhul."

"Your game, your rules." Li shrugged.

The crowd murmured among themselves, awed at his confidence. It was evident that Vahid had made a rather big name for himself doing this challenge, but Li's confidence wasn't unwarranted. The thing was, he had incredible poison resistance, and he doubted any amount of alcohol would do something to him.

The match was over before it even began.

Vahid knocked down the pitcher of whiskey, and the crowd would cheer when he slammed it down on the table, empty.

The barkeep, noticing the commotion, tossed another pitcher, and Li caught it before drinking everything in one fell swoop.

The crowd cheered even harder at this unexpected development. Li was tall, sure, but he wasn't imposingly built. Weight wise, he should never have matched Vahid who was not only freakish tall but freakish big.

This continued, the barkeep tossing pitcher after pitcher until finally, there were six empty pitchers crowding the table. Vahid and Li had each drank three, but the winner was easily apparent.

"Genius all right damn the gods and-"muttered Vahid before he slumped backwards. Before his brawn could fall on a table and shatter it, he froze in the air, levitating. The mage from before, the same one who had used [Force Pull] on Vahid at the stall, had caught him.

"That settles it!" she said. "Li, the wonder from the east and our new supplier, is victorious!" She turned to Vahid. "And as for you, you big dumb oaf, you'll be going home. Excuse us!"

The mage gave a congratulatory wink to Li before she left, the adventurers making a path for her as she magically carried Vahid's body behind her.

It was only when the door shut behind her that the crowd snapped back to reality, fully realizing that Li had won. The crowd broke out into an uproar, adventurers slapping Li's back, some asking if he was okay.

"You easterners are beast-tamers, immortal, live in palaces of jade, and drink without limit? Hells, I was born in the wrong corner of this world," said a man.

"Trust me, things are better here," said Li as he washed away the taste of strong alcohol from his mouth with some water. "Convenience always comes at a price."

Old Thane squeezed Li's shoulder and laughed. "Gods, what a show. Aye, laddie, you're a right warrior, you are, no wonder I saw so much in you."

"Come on, old man, I hope drinking liquor isn't the biggest thing I've done to impress you so far," said Li.

"Haha! Of course not, but it does show me you've got stones a plenty!" Old Thane raised his mug. "Another cheer for Li, Aye!"

"Aye!" shouted the crowd in unison, dozens of mugs and glasses rising in the air with drunken coordination, drops of wines, beers, ales, and liquors splashing on the ground like rain.

The doors opened again. It took a few seconds to register, but as people at the back realized who had come in, a dead silence passed through the entire tavern, abruptly cutting off the energy from before.

Li cocked his head before he shifted his chair to face the door.

A man stood in the doorway, a golden bodysuit accentuating his bodybuilder's physique. His eyes and spiked hair were golden, shining not because they were blonde, but because they literally flashed with light. He smiled, a twinkle of light sparkling from his teeth.

He held the door open as a hooded figure walked in. Shorter and slighter in build, with steps that were quick and precise. When the figure pulled down their hood, the room broke out into murmurs, the adventurers glancing at each other with confusion, looking to each other to find someone who knew what was going on.

Li only saw a regular woman under that hood. Sharp and refined features, similar to those of count Alexei, and piercing, hungry blue eyes under jet-black hair that betrayed a warm and friendly smile. She looked older, but not overly so, perhaps in her mid-thirties, the faint beginnings of crows feet starting at the sides of her eyes.

"My deepest apologies, dear adventurers, for I truly do appreciate your service to me. But a few eyes and ears have informed me that a certain easterner is to be here, and I wish to meet him. Alone. Call it a meeting of the state."

Li understood now. Before him stood the woman he had heard so much about - the duchess of Soleil, Vivienne.