Draff poured himself another glass and said, "These days, I don't dare drink in front of Diona. I can only sneak a bit when she's not around... Ah, right—you can't tell her, got it? I am quitting, really. Just this one bottle today, and not a drop more!"
"As long as you know your limits, I won't interfere."
"Good! You're a reasonable one. Cheers!"
They clinked glasses again. Victor Wang hesitated for a moment, then downed the rest of his nearly full glass in one go.
Cough cough! "Nope, that's my limit. Just the one glass for me."
"Hey, young folks should have confidence! That one glass took care of a quarter of the bottle." Draff tipped the bottle straight down, shaking it hard to get every last drop.
"No more for me—really. I'll be drunk if I keep going."
"Haha! Know your limits, know your limits." Draff didn't press further and instead asked, "You live in Mondstadt, right?"
"For now, yes."
"Then have you seen a boy who often feeds pigeons on Mondstadt Bridge?"
"You mean Timmy?"
"Yeah, that's him. You know him?"
"I know him fairly well. Why do you ask?"
"Sigh..." Draff let out a long sigh. He raised his glass for a heavy swig, then remembered his promise and only took a small sip.
"That kid's father was the one who helped me quit drinking back in the day. He later died in a hunting accident, left Timmy all alone. I... I couldn't face him, so I asked some friends in Mondstadt to take care of him. We all kept the truth from Timmy...
"I've thought about it for a long time—whether I should tell him the truth. From your point of view, outside the gaze of us grown-ups, how is Timmy doing?"
Huh?
Now what?
Don't tell me he wants me to be the one to break the news to Timmy: "Hey, your dad's dead."
Victor gave an honest answer. "He's kind-hearted, but a little withdrawn. Hardly has any friends his age. While other kids his age run around and play all day, Timmy spends all his time with the pigeons, waiting for a letter from his father."
"I see." Draff accepted the answer calmly—perhaps he'd long suspected as much.
"Chief!" The young hunter from before ran over again.
"What now?"
"Someone recognized the girl with the Vision—turns out she's Xiangling, the head chef of Wanmin Restaurant!"
"Ah! ...Well, whatever. I already had Alan send them off. Shame though—didn't expect her to show up here."
The young hunter came and went. Draff finished his glass and saw Victor off, preparing to begin today's hunt—only to be interrupted as that same chef, Xiangling, came striding right up to his door.
Two girls—one with a Vision, and one floating—couldn't be mistaken.
"You're Xiangling, right?"
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Draff—it was my fault!"
"I've heard all about what you did. Since you've come in person—"
"S-So scary!" Paimon crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"V-Violence is wrong!" Lumine followed her lead.
But Draff suddenly changed tone, bringing his hands together in front of him. "Please help us promote our meat products!"
"...Huh?" x3
"Apologies, that was a bit abrupt. Let me explain. Springvale is known for its high-quality meat, but that reputation shouldn't be limited to Mondstadt.
"And when I heard the famous chef Xiangling was in town, I had Alan bring you here."
At this, Draff gave Victor Wang a meaningful glance. Xiangling and Lumine noticed, though they didn't understand what it meant.
Character defines fate. Even with Victor's involvement, the rest of the conversation followed Xiangling's character quest exactly...
"I can't let ingredients shackle my creativity. Anything made that way would be boring."
"Well, if you're that determined, I won't press. But it's a real shame..."
Xiangling turned to leave—until Little Wen jumped in at the perfect moment.
["Hmph! Unidentified flying object, why do I run into you everywhere?"]
"Hmph! Brain-dead rock, I should be the one asking you that!"
"Who—who's talking?!" Xiangling jumped, looking around.
["Hmph! My master and I came to Springvale to do good, unlike some people."]
The nerve of this sword... Victor silently sighed.
Paimon's bluster quickly faded. "We didn't mean any harm! We came to apologize, didn't we?"
Draff waved his hand. "It's all water under the bridge. No hard feelings."
Xiangling now stared at Victor, sure the voice had come from him. Maybe... a creature like Paimon?
Wait, no—hopefully not. You can't eat Paimon.
Feeling Xiangling's oddly hungry gaze, Victor explained, "Hello, Miss Xiangling. The one speaking was my sword spirit, Little Wen."
"A sword spirit? Never seen one. Can I eat it?"
["You! What are you doing?!" Little Wen actually sounded afraid for once."]
"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed." Victor drew the Wentian Sword, its pure golden blade shimmering in the sunlight.
"Ah... so it really is a sword. I've never tried cooking with a sword before, but I bet it'd go terribly wrong..."
"Hehe. Miss Xiangling, Lumine, Paimon—though Little Wen isn't edible, there is a very talented chef in Springvale. Since you're already here, it'd be a real shame not to try her food."
"Delicious?"
"Amazing chef?"
Victor nodded. "Head to the street on the right. Not far from here, you'll smell it. Just follow your nose. I won't be going with you."
Better not risk being recognized by Brooke and ending up eating an ordinary meal thanks to Draff's connections.
"Food food food!"
"Chef chef chef!"
["Hmph! You can't move an inch when there's food in front of you, unidentified flyer. Keep going and you'll get too fat to fly!"]
"I'm not stooping to your level. Lumine, Xiangling—let's go!"
Victor didn't want to leave anymore. He wanted to stay and maybe score a free lunch too.
He turned to Draff. "Actually, I've been practicing swordsmanship lately and hit a bottleneck. Could I tag along on the hunt today? Might learn something."
"Hm... shouldn't be a problem. But once we're in the forest, you must follow instructions. No room for mistakes."
"Of course."
"Wait here a bit, I'll go get ready."
Draff quickly cleared the dishes, slung his bow and quiver over his shoulder, and belted on a short knife.
Victor used the time to warn Little Wen, "When we're hunting, don't talk and scare off the prey."
"Hmph! I'm not an idiot."
"You better not be."
Once ready, Draff gathered a few others and headed toward the town square.
Those men then went to notify even more people—everyone was well-practiced, gathering swiftly in the square.
In the end, thirty hunters assembled. Of them, Victor only recognized Alan and the young hunter from earlier. The group was split into five teams, each with at least two veteran hunters.
Just as they were about to set off, another man ran over—Victor recognized him as a waiter from Brooke's restaurant.
"Mr. Draff, Brooke says she needs the Boar King by noon, not evening."
"Noon? Isn't that kind of wasteful?"
"She got into a heated argument with Xiangling about cooking philosophy—they're doing a cook-off. Naturally, she wants the best meat."
Draff glanced at Victor, suddenly suspecting that Victor had planned this—introducing Xiangling to Brooke to trigger a showdown. Was his desire to observe hunting just a cover to get closer to this culinary duel?
So that's why he didn't leave... Youths these days...
As the seasoned head hunter of Springvale, Draff was sharp, but he didn't call it out. It wasn't a bad thing anyway.
"Understood. Tell Brooke not to worry—I'll bring back the Boar King."
As they spoke, the other four teams had already left Springvale in different directions.
"We're changing plans. Brooke needs the Boar King urgently. With a noon deadline, we've still got plenty of time—it's only 9:30."
"Jerry, go alert the transport team."
After giving instructions to a young hunter, Draff turned to the others. "This here is an Honorary Knight from Mondstadt, here to observe our hunt. Don't mind him—just do your thing."
Once Jerry returned, their team set off.
Springvale's hunting grounds stretched from Cider Lake in the north to Dragonspine in the south, from the western edge of Windrise in the east to somewhere near the Statue of The Seven in the west—about 1,200 square kilometers in total.
Today's target was in a forest south of Springvale, about 15 kilometers away.
Even with strong stamina and familiarity with the terrain, it took the hunters an hour to reach the destination.
Draff could probably run faster thanks to his beastman heritage—maybe 20 km/h—but that was still only half as fast as a Vision bearer.
So, sword intent alone can't make up for physical shortcomings... I wonder how fast a true Sword Saint—someone whose sword energy rivals elemental power—could run? Victor mused.
Up ahead, a large herd of boars had no idea danger was near.
There were over thirty in total, counting several piglets still nursing. Most were lazily digging through the grass for roots and berries.
One stood out—a hulking beast over two meters long and 1.5 meters tall at the shoulder. Its body bore countless scars, and two horn-like tusks jutted from its jaw like bony daggers over ten centimeters long.
This was the infamous Boar King, currently being fed by two tuskless sows.
"This beast's a brute—chased off all the other males."
"Guess he's at his peak now. He's been beaten badly before though."
"Better for us—no rivals means no distractions."
Draff gestured. The hunters swiftly climbed into trees.
Victor followed suit.
Draff explained, "Getting hit by this beast isn't fun. But it can't climb trees. We'll volley arrows first, wear it down, then finish it once it tries to flee."
He then addressed the team. "Everyone—get your arrows ready. Aim for the neck and the spot just behind the shoulder. 3, 2, 1—!"
With his signal, six 70cm-long arrows flew, striking the Boar King's neck and shoulders.
The beast shrieked but held firm, eyes blazing red as it searched for its attackers.
The rest of the herd fled in terror.
"Fire again!"
Another volley flew. The Boar King locked onto Alan's tree and charged.
The thick trunk shuddered from the impact.
"Aim for the eyes!"
Only Draff hit—just a glancing blow near the eye.
Enraged, the Boar King focused its one good eye and slammed into Alan's tree repeatedly, nearly knocking it over.
From their positions, only Alan had a clear shot at the other eye—but he was out of stamina.
"Mr. Draff!" Alan shouted in alarm.
"Everyone else keep firing! Use all your arrows! Alan, just hang on—don't fall!"
More volleys followed. Though the Boar King didn't bring down the tree, it began to weaken.
"Clever beast—keeps its blind side facing us."
"Don't rush. It won't last long."
As it neared the edge of their range, the hunters climbed down and gave chase.
"Keep your distance—it might retaliate!"
Sure enough, the Boar King turned back. But the hunters were ready, quickly retreating into trees.
This happened twice more, each time leaving the beast more drained.
"Cease fire—I'll try to finish it."
Draff leapt down, his beast blood lending him speed. He slashed the Boar King's leg.
It kicked, but he dodged nimbly.
He targeted the same wound again and again until the beast collapsed.
"Get down and finish it. Stay alert."