Chapter 8: The Vote at Golden Ash

[Golden Ash Tavern]

Hushwind was the nearest town to the Amethyst Deep, and the Golden Ash was one of its two taverns.

Its rival served miserable liquor to a perpetual crowd of laborers, drifters, and other people near the bottom of society. At the Golden Ash, every cup held rich, full-bodied wine.

The higher prices meant that almost every patron was an adventurer of some ability.

Today, however, those adventurers had clustered along the right side of the room. The four people seated alone on the left looked as if they had reserved half the tavern for themselves.

They were Silverthorn Company, a Diamond-rank adventuring party whose every member stood above LV50.

The company was not known for bullying others. Anyone with eyes could see that something was wrong among them, and no one wished to test their luck.

The other patrons nursed their drinks with a mixture of fear and curiosity, hoping to overhear enough gossip to enliven the next several days.

The most conspicuous member of Silverthorn Company was Garrick, a Half-Dragon who stood seven and a half feet tall. Even seated, he towered over ordinary people. Reinforced heavy armor made him look like a section of city wall.

In battle, that was exactly what he became. Again and again, Garrick had held back waves of enemies and created safe openings for his companions to attack.

His only shortcoming was that he had failed to inherit his Dragonkin mother’s breath weapon. If he could unleash one while pinning an enemy in place, even a Beastfolk warlord might fall before realizing what had happened.

At the moment, however, the words emerging from the Half-Dragon sounded anything but brave.

“We’re finished. We may not be able to stay anywhere in the Kingdom of Concord after this.

“Boss, this mission is impossible anyway. We should flee to the Western Isles while no one expects it. Once we enter that dungeon, we’ll lose our last chance to run.”

Clang!