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They returned to town and split off. God gave his goodbyes, while Moon gave him another sucker punch to the face.
They agreed that they would meet each other the next day. Moon went on her way to repair her equipment and trade in all the drops she received. God, on the other hand, went to visit a certain bar and its bartender.
"This is all I have for today," God said, settling into his seat and sliding over 5 gold coins.
The Bartender across from him gave God a quick glance, and then slid the coins over the counter.
'Score.'
God was here to receive information from the past week. He spent most of the day running around usually, finding enough money to pay off the repairs for his equipment. But today, seeing as he only went out fo a bit of training, he returned a day earlier than expected.
The Bartender finally took a proper look at God. His first words were:
"One more."
"… What?"
"You are earlier than usual. You cannot just interrupt my schedule like so just for your convenience; I desire added compensation for your inconvenience."
'Ah, come on. You earn plenty of money from this bar; the hell you need my money for?' He tried to give the bartender the best smile he could muster.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Tender, but I already told you that I don't have much more on me. I'm also trying to survive, you know?" He replied, closing his eyes, and showing the fakest smile no one knew possible. The Bartender just gave him a quick look up and down and returned to washing his cups and mugs.
"…Tch." Giving in, God slid another coin to the bartender.
"Another one."
"…WhaTT?" He chomped down at the end, clacking his teeth.
"In exchange for trying to finesse someone of my caliber, I desire extra as an apology."
"Y-you must jest." But at those words the Bartender flinched back and blinked, as if taking offense.
Mentally facepalming, God slid across the final gold coin.
"Much obliged, dear customer," biting down on the coin and giving a wink.
'Haaaah. Welp, there goes my equipment. Let's hope it doesn't shatter next time I go hunting,' he wept internally.
"Now then: What drink can I get you for the time being?" asked the Bartender.
God just glared at him in answer. "Nothing for the time being."
"As you say. Now, where to start…" the Bartender pondered for a moment. "Ah, how about this topic:
The Crown Prince is dead."
If God took the Bartender's offer of a drink earlier, he would of definitely spat it out all over the well-spoken man.
"WHAT!? One Of The Saharan Princes Is Dead!?" he shouted out in utter surprise.
"Sh-sh-sh. You must be quiet when referring to such topics. You may disturb the people around you." The Bartender took a look around the establishment and pointed around.
Everybody was staring at them. Some with complete shock on their face, others' with half-eaten meals still sticking out of their mouths, eyebrows high in surprise, and others with just a complete look of disdain.
"You have to be careful when spreading news, especially if it is baseless propaganda such as what you've reported," he finished.
"Baseless!? But you just told me that!" God retorted.
"I never told you which crown prince it was."
"Yeah, but they're still Saharan Royalty!" he hissed this time, careful to not blurt out anything else crazy.
"Neither did I say which nation the prince is from."
"Hm?" Now he was completely confused.
The Eternal Kingdom's First Prince, the one soon to be crowned King after his father, King Weisbaden, passes away, was reportedly killed around a week ago. They said that is was caused by a skirmish among nobles. Light has been recently shone on the case, and it seems that the newly appointed Duke, hailed as the Little Kingdom's Hero, killed him in a campaign of conquest. Tensions in the territory are rising, I hear." The heavy-talker finally concluded his report.
"Newly-appointed Duke…" Godspeed scratched his head, trying to recall some past news.
"Do you remember what the Duke's name was, Mr. Tender?"
"Now now. I cannot just suddenly recall every name that reaches my ears, especially when it comes from something on such a small scale as the Eternal Kingdom.
That said, I do believe his name began with a 'G.' Grant, was it? Or Gerald? Maybe it was Gerry? Griddle? Possibly."
"Grid." The realization dawned on him as the name escaped his lips. 'He caused an uprising in the Real World at the competition. The rebirth of the 'Korean Gaming Powerhouse,' I think they called it.
"Yes! That was the name." the bartender snapped his fingers in confirmation.
"The first legend, huh? First he gains the power of Legendary class, then he saves the Kingdom to become a Duke, and now he's fighting it out with Royalty? Incredible."
'So that's what someone with an actual life to live can do. How I wish,' he thought somberly.
"Legend? Psh. It is most likely a title given to him by the Nobles of the Eternal Kingdom. Just a name to flaunt for protection. Legends don't exist anymore, and most of them were nothing impressive in the first place. So I recommend flushing out those thoughts of a sudden 'superpower' in this World appearing."
It was very evident that Mr. Tender thought nothing of the player named Grid. Which makes sense. Sure, he did just protect an entire kingdom with a squad of less than 50 other players, but comparing that to the entity that is the Saharan Empire, with all of its incredible powers, it was simply something to yawn at.
"Also, it seems that this 'Grid' person is one of your… people."
'Ah yeah. I forgot that the NPCs still consider us different than them. I mean, it makes sense; we ARE the ones that are able to revive whenever we want, while they still only have one life that they can live.'
"Yep. You're right about that," he replied.
"Must be quite proud of one of your KIND being able to do something of themselves, I imagine," the Bartender stated, snarkiness sliding its way into his voice.
"Oh? What's that supposed to mean, huh? You saying that the rest of us don't do anything noteworthy?"
"Well… yes. That is what I am saying." His blunt words took Godspeed aback.