TopAppnovel Chapter 173 : Chapter 173
Chapter 173 : Chapter 173
Chapter 173. Ale: Holy Shit!
That man stood out in this cheap, noisy tavern like a drop of mercury falling into ink.
His finely tailored black long coat did not bear even the slightest crease, and the silver clasp at his collar gleamed with a cold, hard sheen beneath the dim yellow light.
He looked to be around thirty. The lines of his profile were as sharp and clean as a blade, carrying a natural air of languid nobility.
Then he turned his head.
In that instant, the atmosphere that had been roaring with heat seemed to freeze for a heartbeat because of those eyes.
They were crimson eyes, like magma flowing slowly through the abyss beneath the earth—thick, burning hot, yet terrifyingly still.
“Bottle twenty-two.”
The man tipped back his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion of swallowing. The fierce liquor, strong enough to flatten a full-grown snowfield dire bear, slid down his throat, yet failed to bring even the faintest flush to his pale face.
His long fingers moved with casual ease as he set the empty bottle down on the table.
Clang.
The crisp sound was strangely abrupt amid the uproar.
Standing by the door, Alice instinctively shrank back, trying to hide her small body completely behind Alectos’s broad back.
It was useless.
That man’s gaze did not need to search. Like a precision-guided cruise missile, it pierced through layers of people and smoke and pinned itself to the doorway without the slightest obstruction.
He saw Ale, and he also saw Alice hiding behind him, with only a trembling tuft of hair sticking out.
Then the man smiled.
It was an elegant, charming smile, yet mixed with a wicked sort of teasing amusement. It was like an amplified version of the expression Alice wore whenever one of her pranks succeeded—except this time, she was the one being toyed with.
He did not speak. He merely raised a hand lazily toward the two of them and crooked his index finger once.
Then he tilted his head and murmured something to the tavern owner, who was already staring in a daze.
“Hey! Ale! That gentleman is calling you over!” The proprietor shoved his way through the crowd, face flushed red, spraying spit in his excitement.
“He says the two of you look pretty interesting, so he is covering all your drinks tonight! He is even treating you to the most expensive Arctic Blueberry Brew we have!”
Alectos froze for a second, then scratched the back of his head.
“That generous?”
Though he was a little embarrassed, there was even more excitement in his eyes—the kind of delight a true drinker felt when meeting a worthy master.
“Then I have to go raise a glass. I should also ask him how the hell he drinks that much without burning a hole in his stomach.” As he spoke, he reached back carelessly to grab Alice. “Come on, do not just stand there. He is treating us. Weren’t you the one saying you wanted to experience real life?”
Alice’s feet seemed rooted to the floor as she struggled with all her might to resist.
At that moment, the man’s gaze swept over again. He lifted the empty glass in his hand, and the smile in his eyes faded slightly, replaced by a faint but unquestionable urge for them to come over.
The air around them instantly grew as heavy as lead.
Alice felt as though an invisible giant hand had pressed down on her shoulders, forcing her forward with a will she could not defy. She drooped like a frostbitten eggplant, following behind Ale with her head lowered, every step feeling as though she were walking toward an execution block.
Ale, on the other hand, noticed nothing. He pulled out a chair and dropped into it with a thump, utterly unaware of the dangerous aura practically spilling from the man seated across from him.
“That is some insane drinking capacity, big brother!” Ale gave him a thumbs-up and greeted him with easy familiarity. “My name is Ale, and this is my friend Alice. She is maybe... a little shy around strangers.”
The man smiled and nodded. With elegant ease, he picked up a decanter and poured the shimmering violet fruit wine in a perfect arc through the air, filling the empty cups before them.
“No matter.”
His voice was rich and resonant, like the low strings of a cello vibrating deep in the chest, carrying a strangely magnetic quality.
“Young people being shy is perfectly normal. See more of the world, and naturally your courage will grow.”
As he spoke, his long fingers pressed lightly against the base of the cup and gently pushed the wine toward Alice.
“Try it. It is good stuff. Very good for a young lady’s skin.”
Alice stared fixedly at that cup, both hands twisting the hem of her mage robe beneath the table so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She was even suppressing her breathing with all her strength now, afraid that one breath too loud might anger the terrifying being in front of her.
“T-Thank you.” Her voice was so soft it was barely louder than a mosquito’s hum.
Ale noticed nothing unusual. He raised his glass and clinked it against the man’s before taking a hearty gulp. “Good wine! Nice and sweet. By the way, big brother, you do not sound like a local. Did you come to Winter City on business?”
“You could say that.”
The man took a slow sip of wine. That calm, unhurried noble bearing was so pleasing to the eye that even a rough fellow like Ale could not help admiring it. “I came to find a relative who ran away from home, and while I was at it, to enjoy the snowy scenery of the Northern Territory.”
“Looking for a relative, huh? That cannot be easy.” Ale’s incurable habit of sticking his nose into other people’s troubles immediately surfaced. “Winter City is tightly controlled these days. Everyone entering or leaving has to register. If you have a name, I can ask a friend to help you look. Whether it is finding someone or—”
“I have already found them.”
The man interrupted him softly. Those crimson eyes were not on Ale. Instead, they drifted lightly across the top of Alice’s bowed head.
Alice’s whole body jolted violently. Her knee knocked against the leg of the table, and several drops of wine spilled from her glass.
Ale blinked, assuming the man meant the relative was already in the tavern, and thought no more of it. He kept chatting cheerfully.
To be fair, the man was an excellent conversation partner.
He was not like a drunkard, crudely boasting, nor like some scholar showing off book learning. He knew everything. He could talk about the cause of the polar-night phenomenon in the Northern Territory, the strange customs of the southern island chains, and even one hundred ways to cook ancient magical beasts, all with perfect ease.
The more Ale spoke with him, the more congenial it felt. He even began to feel the regret of having met too late. This man might look cold, but the pride hidden deep in his bones suited a warrior like Ale’s tastes perfectly.
Only Alice played dead the entire time.
No matter how subtly the man steered the conversation toward her, she responded with only three monosyllables: “Mm,” “Ah,” and “Yes.” Even when faced with Ale’s puzzled glances, she refused to raise her head by even an inch.
Then suddenly—
Tap.
The man set down his glass.
The sound of glass touching wood was not loud, but it landed with the dull heaviness of a hammer striking a drum stretched over the heart, cutting off all conversation at once.
He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers interlaced beneath his chin.
Those crimson eyes, so red they seemed ready to drip blood, were no longer drifting idly. They fixed directly on Ale.
The warm illusion of easy conversation vanished in an instant.
In its place came a suffocating, pure pressure.
Ale instinctively sensed that something was wrong.
It was like a lion dozing on the grassland suddenly catching the damp, sulfur-laced scent of danger before a storm broke.
His voice stopped short, and the muscles across his back tensed into iron.
“A dragon demi-human with bloodline concentration this high...”