As the Lox ship eased into the docks of Velmara, the rhythmic creaking of wood and the soft lapping of waves against the pier. The salty breeze carried the scent of fish, damp wood, and the unmistakable tang of the bustling port town.
The gangplank lowered with a heavy thud, and one by one, the crew stepped onto solid ground, exhaling in relief.
Tio let out a long breath, rolling his shoulders as he took in the sight of the busy docks—merchants yelling over one another, sailors hauling crates, and the ever-present hum of a city that never truly slept.
"That was a pretty nice week on the ship... considering the hell that was Sylvaria," Tio muttered, shaking his head as he turned toward the ocean. He stared at the endless expanse of blue for a long moment before groaning.
"If I have to see damn water again within the next year… I swear I'll end up killing myself." He turned away sharply and strode into the city without another word.
Celestia glanced at the medic and Rosaline, and following behind Tio. They passed through the chaotic port, weaving through fishermen haggling over prices, ship captains barking orders, and travelers fresh off their own voyages.
As she stretched her arms with a sigh, her gaze wandered until it settled on a bar tucked between a row of stone buildings. The dim glow of lanterns illuminated its entrance, and the muffled sounds of laughter, clinking mugs, and off-key singing spilled into the streets.
Without hesitation, she pushed open the wooden doors and stepped inside.
The scent of ale and spiced meat filled the air, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat and tobacco. Wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, lanterns swaying slightly with the breeze that followed her in. The place was packed—sailors, mercenaries, and traders crammed around tables, some engaged in loud conversation, others gambling over worn-down cards.
Celestia made her way to the bar counter, where the bartender—an older man with graying hair and a tired expression—wiped down a glass with a rag that looked questionably clean. She slid onto one of the few empty stools, noting the four others beside her occupied by a mix of rough-looking travelers and drunk regulars.
"Busy days?" she asked, resting her elbow on the counter.
The bartender scoffed, setting the glass down with a dull thud.
"Don't even get me started about how busy it can be around this time…" He rubbed his temple before offering her a wry smile. "It's more of a nightmare than anything."
He leaned forward, placing his hands on the counter. "So, what can I get you?"
Before she could answer, one of the men sitting nearby—a burly, scar-faced mercenary—turned his head toward her, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"New face," he rumbled, taking a slow sip from his mug. "Not often we see fresh blood in Velmara. You a trader, a sellsword… or something else?"
Celestia smirked, leaning back slightly on her stool.
"Depends on who's asking."
The scarred man grinned, but there was something sharp in his gaze now.
"Just a man who likes to know things."
Celestia met his gaze without hesitation, her expression unreadable. "Alright then… I'm just a wanderer passing through for the 'Festival of a Thousand Lanterns.' That's all." Her voice was calm, steady—offering just enough to sound believable, but not enough to satisfy curiosity.
She turned away, facing the bartender. "Surprise me with something strong."
The bartender gave her a knowing look before reaching under the counter, pulling out a thick, dark bottle with a label so worn it was barely legible. The liquid inside was a deep amber, clinging to the glass like syrup—aged.
With practiced ease, he poured the liquor into a short, weighty glass and slid it across the counter toward her.
"Velmaran Ember," he said gruffly. "Burns like hell. Kicks harder."
Celestia lifted the glass, rolling the liquid slightly before taking a slow sip.
The burn hit instantly. A deep, smoldering fire that coiled through her throat and spread into her chest. It wasn't just strong—it was the kind of drink that could strip paint, the kind meant to.
She blinked a few times before setting the glass down. "D-damn that was pretty strong... I was expecting a bit more though." She said with a slow exhale.
The bartender raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed. You've got quite a high tolerance don't you?" He asked before placing an empty glass down and picked up another glass before cleaning it out with a clean rag.
"…I guess?" Celestia muttered, frowning slightly as she swirled the remaining liquor in her glass.
She had expected a burn—something fierce, something that would hit her like a punch to the chest. Instead, it went down too smoothly, too easily. No fire, no lingering bite.
Then, without warning, her vision flickered.
━━━『 Villainous System 』━━━
Detoxed.
The user has consumed or been injected with a poisonous substance. The foreign agent has been neutralized.
Celestia blinked, her gaze flickering between the bartender and the mercenary beside her. The sudden realization struck her, and with a faint shake of her head, she stood up from the stool. "Well, it's been nice here..." she began, her voice casual.
She paused for a moment, her eyes scanning the room one last time. "But I have a few things to take care of before the festival." She gave them a fleeting glance, then turned away, her footsteps soft and purposeful as she walked toward the door.
The mercenary, watched her leave, his brow furrowing slightly as her departure seemed… too smooth. His eyes narrowed, and without turning back to the bartender, he muttered, "How long?"
The bartender, wiping down a glass, shrugged without looking up. "Should be... an hour, at most."
The mercenary's gaze swept across the bar, taking in the sight of the patrons—all unconscious, sprawled across their tables. "What the hell?" His gaze flickered to the kitchen, as a low growl echoed from behind the bar.
"Huh? What's that?" the bartender muttered, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he turned toward the sound.
"Did you bring a dog or something here, Mike?"
Mike didn't flinch, but his hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his knife. "Nothing from me... just here to collect the usual." His tone was too calm, but the underlying tension in his posture betrayed the alertness beneath.
The growls continued for a few seconds before they slowly faded. The bartender glanced at Mike, unsure, then shrugged it off.
"I'll check the kitchen."
A moment later, the bartender stepped into the back, his large boots creaking on the floorboards. After a few seconds, he reemerged, shaking his head. "Nothing back there. Just… we must've been hearing things."
Mike's eyes remained fixed on the counter, but his lips twitched in mild irritation. "We? I didn't hear a damn thing." He took another swig of his drink, savoring the burn, before standing up. "Well, I'd better grab my paycheck. Same time, three months from now?"
The bartender shrugged again, a weary smile tugging at his lips.
Mike picked up his old, battered bag, then whistled sharply. The sound was low, a signal. Moments later, a caravan rolled up to the back of the bar, the wheels creaking under the weight of whatever was loaded in. Several figures moved into the bar, their movements swift and practiced. They began lifting the unconscious bodies from the tables, dragging them out the back, their faces impassive.
Mike eyed the scene, his gaze briefly flicking to the bartender one last time. "Guess it's time to collect." His tone was cold, but there was a flicker of satisfaction behind his eyes.
The bartender sighed, wiping his hands on his apron. "Just another night."
As the last body was hauled out, Mike adjusted his bag and slipped out the door, vanishing into the night, leaving the bar to return to its quiet, empty routine.
Celestia wandered through the bustling port, her eyes scanning the vibrant market stalls filled with trinkets, wares, and oddities, the sounds of haggling filling the air. As she passed through the crowd, she spotted Rosaline—standing at a table, carefully inspecting a collection of earrings made from an array of colorful, polished jewels. Beside her, Tio was standing, his attention fixated on a display of intricate, glowing watches, each infused with magic designed to perfectly track the passage of time.
"I've never seen anything like this before. It's… amazing," Tio muttered, lifting one of the watches to the sunlight, watching the way the runes on its surface shimmered with light.
He turned to the two men behind the counter, clearly intrigued. "What do you call these?"
The men exchanged a quick glance before one of them answered, clearly proud of their creation. "For now, we're calling them 'Timers.' They keep time perfectly, but we're not sure if that name will stick. We've been experimenting with combining elements of magic and craftsmanship at the academy for over a decade to get this right."
Tio studied the watch a moment longer, his curiosity piqued. "How much for one?"
The two men looked at each other, then shrugged. "Honestly, we're not sure. We're still testing them, so we're giving them away. Take it with you, and when the next festival rolls around, come back and tell us how it worked. We'll know if we need to make adjustments."
Tio grinned and slid the watch onto his wrist. "Awesome." He gave the men a nod and stepped away, looking content with his new acquisition.
Celestia, having watched the exchange, turned her attention to Rosaline, who was still admiring the earrings in front of her. A small smile tugged at Celestia's lips as she walked over to join her.
She leaned in slightly, glancing down at the display of earrings. "How about those?" she asked, her finger pointing to a pair of delicate earrings shaped into hearts, each crafted from polished amethyst. The stones were framed with a delicate silver lining that caught the light beautifully, making them shimmer with an almost ethereal glow.
Rosaline paused, her fingers lightly grazing the amethyst earrings, the soft shimmer of the stones catching the light. She studied them for a moment longer before looking up at Celestia, a soft smile forming on her lips. "They're beautiful..." She glanced back at the vendor, her voice a little more hesitant. "How much are these?"
The vendor, a wiry man with a weathered face, met her gaze and replied without hesitation. "Ninety silver pieces."
Rosaline's smile faltered, and a soft sigh escaped her lips as she reached into her bag, her fingers brushing against the coins inside. 'I don't have enough for this…' she thought, her heart sinking just a little.
Celestia noticed the subtle shift in Rosaline's expression and couldn't help but let out a soft, almost imperceptible chuckle. Without a word, she reached into her pouch, pulling out a single gold coin. With a gentle push, she slid it across the table, the gold gleaming under the dimming sun.
The vendor's eyes widened, and he immediately scooped up the coin with a nod. "Thank you, miss."
With a smile, Celestia picked up the delicate earrings and handed them to Rosaline. "These are for you." Her voice was warm, and there was a playful gleam in her eyes. "Consider it a gift, no need to worry about the cost."
Rosaline's eyes widened, her expression a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "Celestia… you really didn't have to…"
But before Rosaline could protest further, Celestia gave a wink and turned away, her footsteps light as she walked through the bustling port. She needed some space to clear her head.
As she wandered through the crowded streets, she began to search for a place to stay for the night—somewhere close to the docks, where she could listen to the gentle sound of the waves.