Quevedo cupped his hands like a makeshift megaphone and grinned at his momentarily distracted companions:
"Hey, hey!" A sharp call snapped Florent and the others out of their thoughts.
Karl, who was accustomed to luxurious establishments, only showed slight surprise before quickly regaining his composure.
He said, "Alright, stop howling. Take us inside."
Quevedo blinked twice but didn't say anything further. He turned and led his companions toward the tavern entrance, preparing to walk straight in.
However, the guards at the door mercilessly crossed their halberds to block the way. Quevedo had no choice but to stop.
Facing the expressionless guard, he smiled and said, "Big bro, how many times have you seen me by now? Can't you just let me in without checking the pass?"
The guard who was clad entirely in thick armor replied in a muffled, "No." his voice metallic and seemed to grind out from within his steel shell.
Quevedo scratched his cheek twice in resignation before reaching into his clothes and pulling out a brightly colored card, the so-called "pass".
The guard didn't take it. Instead, he retrieved a ledger with his left hand, flipping it open single-handedly with practiced ease.
After glancing at the card, he said, "You may enter."
The halberd blocking their path was swiftly raised. Quevedo tucked away the garish-looking pass, but not before Florent caught a glimpse of it.
Though it was only visible for a moment, Florent could make out that the card's colorful patterns formed the silhouette of a person. He couldn't be sure who it was, but he suspected it might be Quevedo, albeit a slightly distorted version.
Quevedo let out a dejected sigh and weakly gestured forward with his right hand, "Let's go."
When they pushed open the door, the interior of the tavern was unexpectedly crowded, filled with the usual noisy clamor of a drinking establishment.
However, unlike the 'Flame Axe Tavern', there were none of the foul smells or cacophony of curses shouted in thick regional accents.
The center of the tavern featured a clear pathway leading straight to a large bar counter, free of tables. On either side of this walkway, closer to the bar were tables for drinking, while the majority of the other tables were surrounded by groups of people.
From a distance, Florent couldn't make out what was on those tables.
Quevedo, in an oddly familiar yet uncharacteristically subdued tone, began explaining the nature of the place:
"Old Man Sage's Tavern... strictly speaking, it isn't really a tavern. It's more like a gambling den hiding behind the name of a tavern," He paused briefly before continuing, "Many people gamble away their entire futures here. Our government doesn't strictly prohibit gambling dens, it just imposes heavy taxes on them. Clearly, that's not enough to stop it..."
"...Still, compared to other gambling dens, Old Man Sage at least doesn't resort to brutal methods. He bans those who owe debts from further gambling and forces them to work. Many spend thirty or forty years repaying what they owe. Sage has only been running this tavern for a little over forty years." Quevedo's tone lacked its usual cheerfulness as he spoke.
Soon, he led the group to the bar counter.
Addressing an elderly man with white hair and a white beard, Quevedo said, "Old Man Sage, long time no see!"
The old man appeared to be in his seventies, but his movements showed no signs of frailty.
Hearing Quevedo's greeting, he replied promptly, "Quevedo, it hasn't been that long, has it? Just two weeks ago you came by to buy something. You even muttered something about how it was 'almost ready'. What was that thing, anyway?"
Quevedo let out two awkward laughs and said, "Heh, Old Man Sage, you really haven't lost your edge, have you? But why use your sharpness to eavesdrop on young people's conversations?"
Old Man Sage stroked his thick, white beard and said, "I'm not so bored as to do that. But you... you're an exception. An old man like me always takes an interest in special people."
Quevedo's smile stiffened slightly, but he quickly recovered, "Me? Special? You're the special one here. Anyway, let me introduce my companions."
He then pointed to Erich, Florent, and Karl in turn, saying, "This is Erich, this is Florent, and this is Karl. They are my 'companions'..." He emphasized the word 'companions' heavily.
Old Man Sage caught the underlying meaning and said, "Fine, go ahead and introduce them to the others first. By the way, you've come at a good time, the gathering is about to start. You can show them around first and bring them to the gathering at half past four. After it's over, come find me for the pass. I'll need some time to prepare."
Having said that, Old Man Sage studied Florent, Erich, and Karl carefully before waving them off and turning away.
Quevedo, seemingly unfazed, turned to the bartender and said, "Four Southwell beers, please."
The bartender who had been casually wiping glasses beside Old Man Sage finally set them down upon hearing Quevedo's order.
He pulled out four glass mugs and filled them one by one with Southwell beer before handing them to Quevedo.
After accepting the drinks, Quevedo passed three of them to his companions, took a sip of his own, and then led the group away from the bar.
Florent took a small sip of the Southwell beer. While it couldn't compare to the Ormir wine he had tasted the day before, it wasn't bad at all.
The beer leaned toward a light, crisp flavor. Though the alcohol content wasn't low, it went down as smoothly as water, without any noticeable bitterness. It suited Florent's palate quite well.
Quevedo guided the three of them to a staircase that many would likely overlook. With a grin at his companions, he immediately began descending without another word.
At the bottom was the entrance to the basement, dimly lit by a single candle.
Another armored guard stood at this doorway, but unlike the cold and indifferent one at the front entrance, this one lifted the faceplate of his helmet upon seeing Quevedo and said:
"Hey Quevedo! Brought some newcomers into the mystical world, have you? Heh, that's good. The bigger the gathering, the better." It was clear that Quevedo and this guard were well acquainted.
Quevedo walked up to him familiarly and said, "Hey Carrette! Still not promoted to captain yet? I've seen you stuck as a regular guard for two or three years now."
The guard grimaced and said, "Ah, forget about ever becoming captain. Our current captain is way too strong. I don't even dare hope to reach his level. I'm fine just being a regular guard... decent pay, simple work. That's enough for me."
Quevedo patted the guard's armor, producing a crisp metallic sound, "Still as sturdy as ever, huh? Your armor's even thicker than the military's. Well, I won't invite you for a drink now. Next time you're off duty, we'll grab a few."
Carrette visibly perked up at the mention of drinking, but he quickly restrained himself, remembering his duties, "Sure, next time we'll chat over drinks."
With that, he pushed open the basement door.
Quevedo waved goodbye and led Florent and the others into the Beyonder gathering...