A glass of whisky floated in the air; cubes of ice clinked against the glass's rounded bottom.
The liquor's aroma was deep and rich; notes of cardamom and cinnamon rose to its surface.
Quiet crackles sounded from the fireplace.
"I distilled this whisky around three hundred years ago. It was the start of the chaotic era around that time. A few human explorers brought a collection of spices to the island; I used those spices for the distillation." Ezra spoke to Vera; his tone was steady and warm.
Vera pressed the cup's mouth against his upper lip to take the alcohol's aroma in properly.
"It has a smooth mint-like flavour; I assume the primary augment is cardamom?"
"Correct. However, what makes this whisky special are the spices I used to augment the flavour. Less to do with their flavour, more to do with their history." Ezra's words trod on the line of showing over telling.
His back rested against Sword Dog's bed; Vera took a sip of the alcohol. With closed eyes, Vera focused on his sense of smell and taste.
The liquor's aroma spread from his mouth to the depths of his throat.
"Do enlighten me..." Vera asked Ezra.
"To date, people think the wildebeest never had a first-rank demon. But this wasn't always the case, at least in the Demon Continent."
The furnace's flames reflected against Ezra's eyes. His breath stilled for a moment.
"A few centuries ago, the continent didn't fear wildebeests. That was until a first-rank wildebeest was born. She wasn't the strongest or the largest. Rather, she was one of the smartest demons I had ever met."
Vera's grip tightened against his glass as Ezra spoke of the wildebeest.
"The wildebeest always had a strong reproductive instinct. But they lacked the resources to sustain their populace. However, these things changed after a first rank was born. She had the option to leave the ranks of the wildebeest; with her power she could have lived peacefully on the continent. But she stayed and led the expansion of her tribe."
Ezra took a sip of his liquor; its flavours brought him closer to those days.
"A horde of a few thousand grew to nearly a million in the span of a few decades. Their rapid expansion tore through the continent. The lands you see today are severely lacking in comparison to what they used to be. Hundreds of tribes were wiped out in that time."
Vera set his cup on the carpet and leaned in to Ezra.
The fireplace's crackles dimmed; only Ezra's words could be heard in the study.
"Well, in the end the first rank was her limit. She passed a few decades after the expansion. But in the few decades in which she led her tribe, the continent's ecosystem itself shifted. The change in the continent's balance led to the death of a large portion of its flora. The liquor's augment spices were one of the few that managed to survive."
Vera picked up the glass of whisky. The fireplace reflected against its surface. The flame's undulation reflected the spice's history.
Vera took a quiet sip and let the liquor sit in his mouth.
"The liquor tastes the same as before, but I appreciate its flavour more now that I know... Thank you, senior."
The dimmed sound of crackling firewood came back to life as the story reached its end.
Ezra shifted on the couch; his eyes moved from the fireplace to Vera.
"Don't get all sappy with me, brat. And call me something else; 'senior' is a whole mouthful to say," Ezra replied to Vera. His words were sharp, but his tone held its warmth.
Sword Dog got off his bed and walked to Ezra; the pattering of his steps was muffled by the carpeted floor. The soft fur on Sword Dog's head rubbed against Ezra.
"Brat, where has this one's sword gone?"
"I don't know... but he seems to be able to take it out when needed, so I didn't bother."
"Hm..."
As time passed, the fireplace's bright flames dimmed, and cups of whisky were drained.
"Well then, I'll head to bed. A lot of training to do tomorrow." Vera spoke as he walked to the study's door.
"Hm... Rest well."
"Goodnight, grandfather."
***
Arcs of thunder ripped through the Forest of the Forlorn; the heat that the arcs emanated vaporised the forest's snow-covered earth.
The term 'forest' itself grew vestigial as the battle began. Lines of vibrant blue qi cut through trees and rocks alike.
In the midst of these attacks stood Danho. With arms raised to his chin, Danho walked through each attack.
His pale skin was lathered in blood and burnt flesh. His eyes stood sharp; his face was relaxed.
Danho walked towards the uninjured Kijin.
Despite the overwhelming difference in their conditions, the Kijin's face contorted into a grimace.
Arcs of thunder wrapped across Danho's flesh; each blow left a discernible mark. Yet the mark each attack left only grew dimmer.
A golden hue surrounded Danho; at each step of his, it grew denser.
As the lightning coalesced with the mist-like qi that surrounded Danho, tendrils of lightning split from the arc. Its dense blue hue turned dim by the time it reached Danho.
As time passed, it became clear to the Kijin.
This firepower isn't going to be enough.
The ground rumbled as the Kijin dashed to Danho. Tufts of snow and rock turned to powder in the Kijin's wake.
Danho lowered his stance immediately.
Wind roared as an open palm ripped through it. A blinding vibrant blue was shining through the palm.
Danho's head swivelled to the left; the palm's scorching heat singed his cheek, missing his jaw by the width of a hair.
Melted snow crunched against the earth as Danho's feet splayed to the left.
Danho's palm dug into the Kijin's torso.
A dense golden light irradiated the earth; the sound of ribs cracking resounded through the forest.
Blood seeped through the Kijin's mouth as Danho's palm dug into its flesh. But the Kijin's movements didn't stop here.
A barrage of palms ensued. Low trembles passed through the ground as stances shifted.
Mouthfuls of blue blood stained the white snow that surrounded the two of them.
Vibrant gold soon engulfed the dark night.
The flurry of blows turned into a massacre.
Soon the resounding thuds that engulfed the forest came to an end.
The Kijin kept himself upright, with one knee on the ground. His qi was drained, and his body was broken.
"Trying to cast 'Bolt' through palm strikes was a good idea. Even though I can disperse your lightning, if even one blow had connected, the battle's flow would have changed. " Danho remarked as he looked down at the Kijin.
"'Ifs' don't change the fact that I couldn't land a single blow."
"That is true. But don't be so hard on yourself. Your body has changed a lot, at least from what I've heard. Given enough time, you could fine-tune your hand-to-hand combat."
"Enough! I don't need your pity. Do what you came to do." The Kijin replied to Danho. His teeth stood gritted, and his head faced the cold earth.
"Hm... Alright, I'll do as you asked. " Danho spoke, his eyes turned cold, and his tone was sharp.
"From now on you will travel the five planes with me. In our travels I will teach you how to fight in your new body. And in five years we will head to the Demon Continent to challenge the path of ascension."
"Huh...?"
In the Forest of the Forlorn, man stood in awe of demons. Yet, on this day, the one heralded as the strongest demon in the Deep Cold knelt in confusion.
As snow shimmered under the moon's divine radiance, the Kijin realised one thing.
The strong are always eccentrics.