We scarf down stacks of pancakes drowned in honey and some suspiciously good bacon (probably not goblin), pay the innkeeper 3 copper for the meal, and head straight back into the sunny streets.
Liora wipes her mouth daintily with a napkin and drops the bombshell while we walk.
"This village's hunting grounds only go up to about level 10 monsters. Once we all hit 10, the guild here won't have anything worth our time. We'll have to move to a mid-tier town (level 10–30 zones) or we'll stop progressing."
I blink. "So this whole place is basically the tutorial zone?"
"Exactly," Nyx says, licking honey off her thumb. "Starter village. Cute, safe, and about to get real small real fast."
Inner Aizen appears on my shoulder, already flipping through an invisible notebook.
"Ten levels. Roughly three to four weeks if we grind efficiently. Begin stockpiling gold, gear, and contacts now. Also research the nearest mid-tier city and its politics. Write that down."
I mutter under my breath, "Already on it, you megalomaniac."
Nyx suddenly hooks her arm through mine and veers us left down a side alley.
"First stop before clothes shopping: pharmacy."
I raise an eyebrow. "Condoms?"
Liora nods like it's the most normal errand in the world. "Obviously. Tonight is war. We're not bringing back any half-elf or half-beastkin souvenirs nine months from now."
Nyx grins wickedly. "Plus, with your dick size rumor already spreading (thanks to me), you're gonna need the reinforced ones. Extra-large, ultra-thin, enchanted if they have them."
The pharmacy is a cute little herb-scented shop run by a cheerful old gnome lady who doesn't even bat an eye when three teenagers walk in and Nyx slaps 2 silver on the counter.
"Three boxes of the Dragonhide brand, please. The ones that can survive a fireball to the balls."
The gnome cackles, slides over three black-and-gold boxes labeled "Wyrmskin Ultra – Now 30 % more apocalypse-proof!"
Liora grabs one box, inspects it clinically. "Ribbed for her pleasure, warming lubricant, and anti-pregnancy rune woven into the latex. Perfect."
I just stand there holding three boxes of fantasy super-condoms while the girls pay and stuff them into our shared bag of holding like we're buying potions.
Nyx pats the bag. "One box each. No excuses tonight."
Liora flashes a rare smirk. "We're getting laid responsibly or not at all."
I sigh, already picturing the chaos. "You two are the best worst influences I've ever had."
"Damn right," they say in unison, linking arms with me and dragging me toward the clothing district.
Tutorial village or not, tonight we're turning the Tipsy Treant into a fucking orgy battlefield.
Level 1, 18 silver in pocket, industrial quantities of ultra-condoms.
We're still cracking up about the gnome pharmacist asking if we wanted the "glow-in-the-dark" condoms for extra ambiance when Nyx suddenly snaps her fingers.
Nyx: "Yo, Kai, we've got like eight hours to burn before the bar opens. What do broke, horny adventurers do for fun in the daytime?"
She doesn't even wait for an answer; her tail is already wagging like she's been planning this.
Nyx: "Battle arena, bitches! Free entry for registered adventurers, prize money for winners, and we get to beat the shit out of each other legally. Perfect way to test our new level-1 asses."
Liora's ears perk up, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "The coliseum-style one behind the guild? I've been dying to try it. Good idea, Nyx."
Me, already picturing myself launching Fireballs at cocky veterans: "Hell yes. Let's go see who bleeds first."
Ten minutes later we're strutting toward the arena like we own the village.
The place is a massive circular stone pit sunk into the ground, stands half-full of locals betting copper on newbies. Big magical barrier shimmers over the sand; no death, just knockouts and broken pride. Above the entrance: a wooden sign that reads "RANKED DUELS – WIN STREAKS PAY GOLD."
Nyx is practically vibrating. "Rules are simple: 1v1, 3v3, or free-for-all. Winner gets 1 silver per win, 5 silver for five-win streak, 20 silver for ten. Loser gets humiliated and a participation sticker."
Liora cracks her knuckles. "We're doing team 3v3 first. Warm-up. Then we split up and farm solo wins for pocket money."
I grin, already feeling the Fireball tingling in my palm.
"Try not to fall in love with me when I carry us, ladies."
Nyx punches my arm. "Dream on, pretty boy. I'm the carry."
Liora just smirks and notches an arrow. "We'll see who ends the day with the most wins. Loser buys the first round of drinks tonight; and has to watch the other two get laid without joining."
Nyx and I both yell at the same time: "You're on!"
We slap our guild cards on the registration desk, get assigned Team Name: **Starless** (because the clerk thought it sounded cool), and step into the queue.
The announcer's voice booms across the arena:
"Next up! Fresh meat! Give it up for the level-1 trio who poisoned three hundred goblins and lived; Starless!"
The crowd actually cheers. Word travels fast in a small village.
Nyx leans in, fangs flashing. "Time to show these tutorial NPCs what real degenerates look like."
Liora draws her bow. "Try to keep up, Kai."
I crack my neck, Fireball already forming. "Ladies first. Into the sandbox."
We jump down into the pit together, sand kicking up around our boots.
The announcer's voice boomed again: "Starless versus Iron Boars — 3v3!"
Mini-Aizen materializes on my shoulder, arms crossed, deadly serious.
"Low profile. No flashy combos, no one-shotting everyone, no villain monologues. We win quietly and leave. Understood?"
I give the girls a casual nod. "Hey, don't overdo it out there. Just enough to win, yeah?"
Liora twirls an arrow between her fingers. "Of course."
Nyx flashes fang. "We'll be gentle… ish."
Thirty seconds later the Iron Boars are eating sand.
Liora pins the tank's shield to the ground with three perfectly placed arrows, Nyx blinks behind the healer and taps her daggers to the girl's throat, and I "accidentally" roll a single Fireball that explodes in the exact center of their formation and knocks all three out cold. Clean, boring, forgettable.
We hop out of the pit to mild applause, collect our 3 silver winnings, and flop into the audience stands like we've been doing this for years.
Cold drinks, feet on the railing, watching the next batch of newbies get humiliated. Perfect afternoon.
Ten minutes in, Nyx suddenly squirms.
Nyx (whispering): "Kai… I gotta pee. Bad."
I raise an eyebrow. "Then go pee."
She smacks the back of my head playfully. "You big dummy. Single girl walking off alone behind the arena? What if some creep decides today's his lucky day? I need my tank with me."
Liora leans over without even looking. "Go with her, Kai. I'll hold our seats."
I sigh dramatically but stand up. "Fine, fine. Lead the way, princess."
We slip out a side corridor that leads behind the stands. Plenty of big bushes for privacy; this obviously happens all the time.
Nyx ducks behind a thicket, drops her pants without ceremony, squats. That perfect pink pussy on full display again, but this time my dick doesn't even twitch. She's family. Sacred rule.
I turn a little, unzip, and start pissing too. Two streams hitting the dirt in harmony.
Nyx, mid-pee: "Did you see that warrior's face when your Fireball went off right under his balls?"
Me: "Looked like he was trying to shit a pineapple."
We both crack up laughing, trying to keep it quiet so the whole arena doesn't hear two idiots pissing and roasting people.
Finish up, shake off, about to head back; Nyx's ears suddenly shoot straight up.
Nyx (whisper): "Wait. Listen."
From the next bush over: wet slapping sounds, a woman's breathy moans, a guy grunting "fuck, take it deeper."
We creep forward just enough to peek.
Some random adventurer couple going at it doggy-style against a tree. Girl's skirt hiked up, tits bouncing with every thrust, both of them completely lost in it.
Nyx's eyes go wide, tail puffing. Before I can say anything she's already got her pants down again, fingers sliding between her slick lips, rubbing fast circles on her clit.
Nyx (barely a breath): "Holy shit that's hot."
Me, whispering: "Nyx we should—"
She yanks my pants open in one motion, wraps her warm hand around my instantly hard cock, and starts stroking in perfect rhythm with her own fingers.
Nyx: "Shh. Just mutual masturbation. Not sex. Totally within the rules. On the road we'll have months without bars sometimes. This is practical team bonding."
I'm way past arguing. The sight of that couple fucking like animals combined with Nyx's soft hand pumping me has my brain on airplane mode.
We stay dead silent, just the wet sounds of our hands and the couple twenty feet away.
Ten minutes of pure tension.
The girl in the bushes screams into her climax.
Nyx's legs shake, her pussy clenches around nothing, and she cums hard, biting her own arm to stay quiet.
Two seconds later I'm unloading thick ropes across the leaves and Nyx's fingers.
She licks her hand clean without hesitation, then casually bends down and licks the last drops off my cock like it's the most normal post-mission cleanup ever.
Nyx wipes her mouth, grinning. "Protein shake. Efficient."
We pull our pants up, fix our clothes, and stroll back to the stands like absolutely nothing happened.
Liora glances up as we sit down.
Liora: "Took you long enough."
Nyx flops into her seat, tail swishing happily. "Had to find a good bush. All good."
I grab my drink, take a long sip, and try not to smile too hard.
We push open the heavy door of the Tipsy Treant at exactly 10 p.m. and the atmosphere hits us like a wall of heat and perfume.
The bar isn't a brothel, but it's one heartbeat away.
Pink lanterns everywhere, low couches, half the tables already empty because people have paired (or tripled) off. Moans and wet slapping sounds drift down from the upstairs balconies where the private booths are. The air smells like spilled ale, sweat, and pussy.
I keep my face perfectly neutral; inside I'm already half-hard. Previous-life me lost his virginity at seventeen and had a decent body count, so I'm not some blushing virgin, but fuck, this place is designed to make cocks throb and panties drop.
We claim a big round table near the back. Nyx slams a silver on the bar and comes back with six foaming mugs and a platter of sizzling mutton skewers.
We're halfway through the first beer when Liora casually scans the room like a sniper picking targets.
Her eyes lock.
She raises two fingers and beckons.
Three people immediately disentangle from the bar and head over: two human guys and one absolute vixen of a foxgirl.
- Boy 1: tall, broad-shouldered swordsman type, short brown hair, easy grin. Name turns out to be Rowan.
- Boy 2: lean, black-haired mage with a scar across one eyebrow, quiet smirk. Name: Silas.
- Foxgirl: copper-red hair, three fluffy tails, golden eyes, tits straining against a cropped halter top, hips that scream breed-me. Name: Veyra.
Liora doesn't even ask. She just points at the empty chairs.
"Sit. You three look like you know how to fuck without catching feelings. We're recruiting for tonight."
The foxgirl's tails swish, amused. "Straight to the point. I like it."
Ten minutes of rapid-fire negotiation over beer:
- Everyone's a registered adventurer.
- Everyone agrees: one night, condoms mandatory, no names tomorrow, no party drama.
- We've got the big bed upstairs at the Cozy Cauldron.
- Deal.
Rowan raises his mug. "To responsible debauchery."
We clink, down the rest of our beers, and march out like a six-person raiding party whose final boss is orgasms.
Back at the inn. One room. One very big bed.
Nyx locks the door, turns the key twice, and grins like a demon.
"Ground rules again: condoms on, no swapping mid-fuck without asking, cum wherever except inside. Let's get filthy."
Clothes hit the floor in a frenzy.
Condom boxes rip open. Foil wrappers everywhere.
The bed is huge, but six bodies still make it crowded in the best way.
I end up with Veyra first; foxgirl on her back, three tails fanned out like a fiery halo. I roll the Dragonhide condom down my cock (already aching), line up, and sink into her in one slow thrust.
She's dripping wet, burning hot, and her pussy clamps around me like it's trying to suck the soul out of my balls.
"Fuuuck," she whines, claws raking my back. "You're thick."
Beside us, literally a foot away:
Liora is on all fours, Rowan behind her pounding slow and deep, her silver hair swinging with every thrust, mouth open in a silent scream. Silas has his cock in her mouth, fingers tangled in her hair, feeding her inch by inch while she moans around him.
Nyx is on her back next to me, legs spread wide, Silas switching between the two girls whenever he wants. Nyx's tail is thrashing, ears flat against her head as Rowan fingers her clit while still buried in Liora.
The sounds are obscene: wet slapping skin, muffled moans, the creak of the bedframe, the crinkle of condom wrappers when someone grabs a fresh one.
Veyra locks her ankles behind my back and rolls her hips up to meet every thrust.
"Harder, Kai. Ruin my little fox pussy."
I oblige; grab her hips and start slamming into her, the bed shaking so hard the headboard bangs the wall.
Liora comes first; back arching, a sharp cry around Silas's cock as Rowan buries himself deep and grinds. Her whole body shudders, pussy clenching so hard Rowan groans and has to pull out to keep from finishing too soon.
Nyx is next; Silas has switched to her fully now, fucking her missionary while Rowan feeds his cock between her tits. Nyx's golden eyes roll back, tail wrapping around Silas's waist, pulling him deeper as she cums with a snarling yowl, claws shredding the sheets.
I'm close. Veyra feels it, smirks, and clenches deliberately.
"Cum for me, big boy. Fill that rubber."
I slam in one last time and explode, hips jerking, groaning into her neck as I pump rope after thick rope into the condom. She milks me dry, purring the whole time.
We don't stop.
Condoms get changed like clockwork.
Positions shuffle:
- Veyra riding me reverse cowgirl, tails brushing my chest while she bounces.
- Liora on her back getting split-roasted again, this time by both boys at once; Rowan in her pussy, Silas in her ass, her elegant face completely fucked-out and drooling.
- Nyx sitting on Liora's face while Rowan fucks her from behind, the two girls making out sloppily over Nyx's shoulder.
The room smells like sex, sweat, and latex.
Someone cums every couple of minutes; boys, girls, doesn't matter. We just keep rotating, hands wandering everywhere, mouths on tits, fingers in asses, cocks switching holes (always wrapped).
By the end we're a tangle of limbs and tails and spilled lube.
Final count: I filled four condoms with Veyra alone.
Liora's thighs are literally trembling.
Nyx's voice is hoarse from screaming.
We collapse in a sweaty, satisfied heap, condoms knotted and tossed into the waste bin like battlefield casualties.
Veyra kisses my cheek, still panting. "Best one-night party I've ever crashed."
Rowan and Silas high-five us all like we just cleared a dungeon.
Liora, ever the elegant one even when wrecked, murmurs, "Same time next week?"
Everyone laughs, spent and happy.
The six of us pass out tangled together on the ruined bed, moonlight spilling through the window.
Tomorrow we go back to being two separate parties.
Morning light creeps through the shutters, painting golden stripes across a battlefield of naked limbs, discarded condoms, and sheets that will never be the same again.
I wake up first, sometime around dawn. My head is pounding from the beer, my cock is raw in the best way, and there's a fox tail draped across my chest like a victory flag.
To my left:
Liora is on her stomach, silver hair a wild mess, ass covered in faint red handprints from Rowan's grip. One elegant elven ear is poking out from the pillow, twitching in her sleep.
To my right:
Nyx is curled against me like a heated blanket, one leg thrown over mine, pussy still puffy and glistening from last night. Her black tail is wrapped around Silas's ankle for some reason.
Across the bed:
Veyra is sprawled starfish-style, three fox tails fanned out, tits rising and falling with deep sleepy breaths. Rowan and Silas are tangled together at the foot of the bed like they passed out mid-cuddle.
The room smells like cum, pussy, sweat, and cheap ale. There are at least twelve knotted condoms in the waste bin and a few more on the floor that didn't quite make it.
I just lie there for a minute, taking it all in.
This is the morning after the single most depraved night of both my lives.
And I feel… fantastic.
Nyx stirs first. Her golden eyes crack open, focus on me, and she grins with sleep-crusted fangs.
Nyx (hoarse whisper): "Morning, family. My pussy feels like it fought a dragon and lost. Ten out of ten, would do again."
Liora groans, lifts her head, hair sticking to her cheek.
Liora: "I can still taste Silas. And Rowan. And possibly Nyx. I need water. And a priest."
Veyra stretches like a cat, tails fluffing, tits bouncing as she yawns.
Veyra: "Best party invite ever. You three are legends. My legs don't work."
Rowan wakes up, looks around at the carnage, and just starts laughing.
Rowan: "I think we broke the bed. There's a spring digging into my ass."
Silas sits up, runs a hand through his black hair, smirks.
Silas: "Worth it. Elf pussy is exactly as tight as the stories say."
Liora throws a pillow at his head without looking.
We all just lie there for a while, naked, wrecked, and weirdly content.
Eventually Nyx rolls over, pats my chest.
Nyx: "Condom check: nobody leaked, nobody pregnant. Mission success."
Liora sits up slowly, winces. "I'm walking like I just rode a horse for three days. A very enthusiastic horse."
I finally speak, voice rough: "So… same time next week?"
Five voices in unison: "Hell yes."
We spend the next half hour slowly untangling, finding clothes, passing around a single waterskin like survivors.
Hugs goodbye at the door; no awkwardness, just satisfied grins and promises to team up for a real quest sometime.
The three of them leave with waves and tail swishes.
Door closes.
Just me, Liora, and Nyx again.
We look at each other.
Then at the destroyed bed.
Then at the pile of used condoms.
Nyx starts laughing first. Liora follows. I'm right behind them.
We collapse back onto the mattress in a naked, giggling pile.
Nyx: "We are the worst best party ever."
Liora: "And I wouldn't change a thing."
Me: "Level one and already legends. Imagine what we'll be like at level fifty."
We shower together (strictly practical this time, sore genitals and all), get dressed, and head downstairs for breakfast like nothing happened.
The innkeeper takes one look at our satisfied faces, the bite marks on necks, the slight limps, and just slides over three extra-large coffees without a word.
We step out of the Cozy Cauldron around noon, the three of us moving like we just survived a war (slow, sore, and stupidly satisfied).
The village streets are bright and busy, but everything feels softer today. The sun's warm, the air smells like fresh bread instead of goblin poison, and nobody's trying to murder us for five whole minutes.
Nyx is limping just a little, tail swaying lazily.
Liora's walking like royalty who accidentally discovered what a good dicking feels like.
Me? I've got that pleasant raw-cock ache and a grin I can't wipe off.
We don't really have a destination. Just wandering.
Past the fountain:
Some kids splash water at each other. One waves at us. Nyx waves back with both hands like an idiot.
Past the bakery:
The busty human MILF from day one is outside stacking trays. She spots us, winks, and mouths "details later." Liora actually blushes.
Past the guild:
Reyna the deadpan receptionist is leaning in the doorway drinking coffee. She looks us up and down, notes the bite marks and sex hair, and just gives a tiny nod of professional respect. We nod back like soldiers saluting a general.
We end up on a little wooden bridge over the stream that cuts through the village. Lean on the railing, legs dangling, sharing a bag of honey-roasted nuts we bought for 5 copper.
No talking for a while. Just the water babbling under us and gulls overhead.
Nyx finally breaks the silence, voice soft:
"Best party ever."
Liora rests her head on my shoulder (casual, not romantic; just family).
"Agreed."
I toss a nut in the air and catch it in my mouth.
"Level one and we've already got stories that'll make veterans cry. Imagine level ten."
Nyx snickers. "By level ten we'll need a bigger bed."
Liora flicks her ear. "Or separate rooms. My hips can't take another six-person pile-up every week."
We all laugh, quiet and easy.
Just three broke, slightly limping adventurers chilling on a bridge in the tutorial village, watching the water go by.
We're still wandering aimlessly, bellies full of honey nuts and post-orgy glow, when Nyx's ears suddenly twitch like radar dishes.
Nyx (low voice): "Hold up. You smell that?"
Liora tilts her head, sniffing. "Cinnamon… smoke… and something illegal."
I catch it too: a faint, sweet-spicy scent cutting through the usual bread-and-horse-shit village aroma.
Nyx grins like she just found buried treasure.
"Hidden tavern. Every starter village has one. Follow my nose."
She veers off the main street, ducking into a narrow alley between the blacksmith and the herbalist. We trail behind her, curious.
Ten meters in, the alley dead-ends at a blank wooden wall. Nyx doesn't even slow down. She walks straight up to what looks like a random stack of empty crates, pushes the third one from the left, and a hidden door clicks open in the wall.
Warm amber light and low jazz-like lute music spill out.
Nyx: "Told you."
We step inside and the door seals behind us with a soft thud.
Welcome to the Velvet Hollow, the village's not-so-secret "secret" tavern.
The place is built into an actual hollowed-out giant tree trunk under the village. Roots form natural chandeliers dripping with pink and purple glow-crystals. The bar is one massive slab of black oak tended by a smirking succubus bartender (horns, wings, tail, the full package, but wearing a crisp waistcoat like a professional).
Every table is a private alcove curtained with red silk. The air is thick with hookah smoke, perfume, and the unmistakable scent of sex and secrets.
Patrons:
- A pair of dark-elf sisters sharing one very enthusiastic human between them on a couch.
- A dwarf and an orc making out so hard their tusks are clacking.
- A group of cat- and fox-beastkin playing strip poker; clothes already losing.
- One very dignified-looking high elf in full noble robes getting a lap dance from a shirtless werewolf.
The succubus bartender spots us immediately and crooks a finger.
Succubus (voice like honey and sin): "Fresh meat. First drink's on the house if you're here to play. Second drink's on the house if you're here to watch. Third drink… costs something more interesting."
Nyx is already vibrating.
Liora's ears are pink but her eyes are gleaming.
Me? I just grin and slide onto a bar stool between them.
Kai: "Deal. Surprise us."
The succubus lines up three tall, shimmering violet cocktails that taste like liquid starlight and instant bad decisions.
She leans in, tail curling.
Succubus: "House rules:
1. Consent is sexy.
2. No skills or weapons inside (anti-magic field keeps Fireballs and daggers in their pants).
3. Private alcoves are sound-proofed… mostly.
4. Tip your entertainers or I'll drain you dry in the fun way."
Nyx downs half her drink in one go. "We're definitely coming back here after every big quest."
Liora sips hers delicately, then murmurs, "I can already tell this place is going to bankrupt us."
I clink glasses with both of them.
Kai: "Worth it."
We spend the next two hours just soaking it in:
- Watching a tiefling dancer perform tricks with her tail that should be illegal in twelve kingdoms.
- Getting roped into a game of "truth or strip" with the dark-elf sisters (we win; they end up topless).
- Discovering the alcoves have glory holes, swing chairs, and enchanted toys that vibrate to the music.
The succubus bartender (her name is apparently Crimson) just keeps sliding those violet cocktails our way, and by the third round we've claimed a plush corner alcove with low cushions and silk curtains half-drawn. Nyx is sprawled across my lap like a housecat on a sunbeam, Liora's legs are draped elegantly over a velvet ottoman, and we're all pleasantly buzzed, watching a tiefling dancer do things with a levitating ribbon that probably require three levels in contortionist.
That's when the old man starts talking.
He's been sitting at the bar the whole time: grizzled human, maybe seventy, snow-white beard down to his belt, one eye milky blind, the other sharp as a dagger. Scarred leather coat that's seen more decades than most of us have years. Everyone in the tavern knows him; they call him "Gramps" or "Old Thorn." Nobody tells him to shut up when he starts a story, because Old Thorn1
He clears his throat, voice like gravel and smoke, and the whole hidden tavern quiets just enough to hear.
Old Thorn:
"Listen up, you horny whelps. You think poisoning a few goblins makes you hot shit? Let me tell you about the Blade of the First Dawn…"
He leans forward, tankard in one gnarled hand.
"…Forged from a fallen star that landed in the elven homeland five thousand years ago. Said to cut through any magic like it's wet paper. Last seen in the hands of a human woman named Seraphine the Unbroken; level 312, solo-cleared the Abyss Rift when the rest of her party turned tail. She vanished thirty years ago. Some say she ascended. Some say the Blade drank her soul and she's still walking, looking for a worthy heir."
He takes a slow sip.
"Then there's the Heart of the Void Whale; crystalized heart of a leviathan that swims between worlds. One touch and you can store an entire dungeon's worth of loot in pocket space. Last seen in the possession of a foxkin thief who robbed the Dragon King's vault and laughed while doing it. Never caught."
He keeps going, voice rolling like thunder in the small space.
- The Crown of Stolen Futures (steals possibilities from your enemies and turns them into your own power).
- The Lover's Noose (a silk garrote that makes the victim cum so hard their soul leaves their body; yes, it's been used in foreplay by people with very specific kinks).
- The Grimoire That Writes Itself (every time its owner dies, it rewrites their story so they never existed… and someone else wakes up with all their levels).
With every artefact he describes, the tavern gets quieter. Even the dancer stops mid-spin to listen.
Nyx's tail has stopped swishing. Liora's ears are forward, eyes wide. I'm leaning so far forward I'm practically in the old man's lap.
Old Thorn finally taps his empty tankard on the bar and fixes me with that one good eye.
Old Thorn:
"And the funniest part? Every single one of those treasures is still out there. World's big, kids. Bigger than your little tutorial village. Bigger than the capitals. Some poor bastard's gonna stumble on 'em one day… and either become a god, or die screaming."
He stands up slowly, joints cracking.
"Or both."
Then he tosses a gold coin (real gold, old mint) to Crimson, tips an imaginary hat, and shuffles out.
The tavern erupts into excited whispers the moment the door closes.
Nyx (breathless): "Did you hear that shit? Actual legendary gear. Like, endgame stuff."
Liora (actually excited, which is rare): "If even one of those stories is true…"
I just sit there, heart pounding harder than it did last night when Veyra was riding me.
Because mini-Aizen is already in my head, chalkboard out, writing in big red letters:
TARGET ACQUIRED.
NEW LONG-TERM OBJECTIVE: COLLECT EVERY SINGLE ONE.
I look at my two party members; family, ride-or-die, sacred bond; and grin like a madman.
Kai: "Change of plans, ladies. We're not just leaving this village at level 10."
Nyx: "We're hunting legends."
Liora finishes the thought, eyes blazing:
"We're going to become one."
The three of us clink our violet cocktails together in the dim pink light of the Velvet Hollow.
Tutorial village?
Cute.
We've just been handed the real main quest.
And we're going to break the fucking world getting it.