Witch, Fireball and the Evil God of Steam

Chapter 218: Visitor_3


Anyone with eyes can see that Ethan and Lindong are not from the same tribe.

White hair and red eyes are characteristics of the Northern Clan, who vanished into the depths of the northern territories after being expelled from the Imperial city. Their numbers are as rare as those of high-tier magical creatures, while Ethan looks entirely like an Empire citizen. How could he possibly be related to Lindong?

So there's only one answer: The Lindong Witch fell in love at a young age and married an Empire citizen.

How enviable!

The characteristics of the Northern Clan are unwelcome in the Empire, but for followers of the Old Gods, white hair and red eyes have an irresistible allure. They've often cursed the Empire's nobles for squandering by driving the Northern Clan out of the Imperial city; if only they lived in the underground city.

The speaker glanced at Miss Keroy, who was following behind Ethan.

A never-before-seen high-tier magical creature, with feathers as golden as the sunlight, appeared obedient and docile, making him think Ethan must be a follower of the Hunting Goddess. The residents of the underground city have always had an open attitude towards path and faith.

Because faith can change.

Before becoming followers of the Old Gods, they once believed in those so-called proper and Middle-Level Gods. Only after witnessing the power of the Old Gods did they realize how ridiculous their past beliefs were.

"Come, I'll treat you to a drink!"

The friendly patrol member extended an invitation to Ethan, brewing a plan in his mind.

Newcomers like Ethan who haven't decided on their faith are rare. Since he claims to be Lindong's kin, he will surely turn to one of the Old Gods in the future.

It's time to recruit him. Traveling with a high-tier magical creature implies that Ethan is a powerful hunter.

A promising newcomer!

Ethan gladly accepted.

He followed the group to a nearby tavern named "Broken Bone." It seemed the patrol members were regulars there; as soon as they entered, the tavern owner waved to them from a distance.

A tavern is usually a place for gathering information.

Besides the local residents of the underground city, the tavern was most populated by people with the same red-colored oil paint symbols on their faces and arms. Their behavior was mostly rough; Ethan saw a few chewing on a lamb leg, getting oil and gravy all over their faces, reminiscent of barbarian custom.

Soon, a waiter pushed over a cart.

On top were two barrels of ale.

"This... doesn't seem right?"

This seemed like they wanted to get him drunk, but when he looked around, he saw that almost every table had several barrels piled next to it. Some patrons, once drunk, simply sprawled on the ground, sleeping like dead pigs. The tavern's clientele seemed long accustomed to such scenes.

"Aren't you supposed to be on duty?"

Ethan didn't want to get the patrol members punished for missing their posts on his first day in the underground city.

"It's alright, there's no chance of invaders breaking in!"

The patrol member said boldly, "Drink up today; it's from the master brewer of Thunder City."

He dared to claim that any alcohol lover would be enchanted by oatmeal ale.

Soon, snacks followed.

A whole roasted lamb, with other plates of pickled radishes, lettuce, and fresh fruits and vegetables for a refreshing balance.

This was the highest level of hospitality, showing Ethan the utmost respect.

For the followers of the Father of War, getting guests thoroughly drunk was their way of exhibiting friendliness.

"Friend, have you heard about the Master of War?"

The four sat around a table, filled their glasses with oatmeal ale, and toasted together.

For a moment, Ethan felt like he had wandered into a pyramid scheme.

Today, they would not leave until they were drunk.

This was the slogan shouted by the patrol members.

...

The Master of War, Kaisaros, held the powers of courage and conquest.

The translation of Empire descriptions of the Evil God should symbolize conflict and chaos. From these patrol members with red-painted symbols, he learned the name of the third Old God of the Abyss, though this power seemed somewhat similar to their old friend Kane.

Recalling the events of Ophira, Kane had left a note, saying he would settle scores with Flor and the consortium before disappearing.

It's unknown what kind of connection Kane has with the Master of War.

Time flew by, the moon hung thin outside "Broken Bone" tavern, and inside, the scents of ale and meat juice mingled.

Thinking of this, Ethan asked aloud, "Have you heard of Kane?"

"Ka... ne? Who's that?"

The response was intermittent, "Old, Old Sen... I tell you, you followers of the Hunting Goddess are best suited to become... become what again?"

"Bang."

With a dull thud, the sound vanished.

The burly man slumped to the side and rolled to the ground.

The tavern fell into a dead silence, and the tavern owner looked at Ethan with a mix of fear.

He was the witness of this drinking contest, watching the three patrol members engage in rounds, adding six barrels to their table. Now all the barrels were empty, and the roasted lamb on the table was gone, not even bones left. The golden-feathered bird beside Ethan pecked without restraint, her beak slick with oil, as she tilted her head and squinted, grinning as even the bones had been chewed and swallowed.

By the end of the feast, the three dazed members even called for outside assistance.

The followers of the Father of War responded en masse. They had long noticed Ethan—a respected and worthy opponent!

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