"I have a hobby of enjoying the Way of Wine. If you're willing, I'd like to offer you a drink as well."
"…You mean alcohol?"
"From what I've heard, you're quite renowned as a drinker in the Central Plains… Or am I mistaken?"
Alcohol. Of course I like it.
Especially if it's expensive alcohol.
In this world without the internet, it's one of the few hobbies I can enjoy.
'The Heavenly Demon's alcohol…?'
Alcohol offered by the Heavenly Demon herself.
It can't possibly be the cheap stuff sold at roadside taverns.
Gulp.
I once had the chance to taste a liquor worth hundreds of gold taels per bottle when I visited the Martial Alliance by chance. For a while after that, I couldn't even touch the mediocre swill sold at taverns.
'Ugh…'
I'm torn.
The alcohol is tempting, but she's still the Heavenly Demon. If I drink and accidentally offend her, I could end up dragged off to a dungeon. It's only natural to feel apprehensive.
But asking for just the alcohol without joining her would make my intentions too obvious…
"The cult has plenty of varieties you likely haven't tasted in the Central Plains. Have you ever tried liquor from the Western Regions?"
"Liquor from the Western Regions…?"
'Could they have wine?'
After getting hooked on alcohol in this martial world, I'd asked around for wine, but it wasn't easy to find, so I gave up.
But the Demonic Cult has wine?
"I happened to come across it through some connections. The elders tried it a few times but didn't seem to care for it. What's the point of rare liquor if you can't appreciate its taste? To those who don't understand it, even the finest drink is worth less than a cup of plain water."
"Wise words indeed."
If you're just going to grimace and force it down because it's rare, you might as well drink water instead.
I couldn't agree more.
"It seems you're interested in Western liquor?"
"A long time ago, I had the chance to try some from my master. I really enjoyed it, but I had no way of getting it myself…"
"Then this works out perfectly."
For the record, my master never gave me anything like wine, obviously.
She's a native of the Central Plains—where would she even get it?
I just made it up based on my memories of drinking it in the modern world.
"There's an old saying that nothing breaks down barriers between people and brings them closer than alcohol. How about we share some honest talk over drinks?"
"It would be an honor, O Heaven of the Divine Cult."
"Hey, what are you doing trying to pour your own drink? Put that bottle down."
"Oh, the liquor's so good I must've done it without thinking. Please forgive my rudeness."
"Hmph, I'll let it slide this time, but don't do it again."
My head's spinning.
I've really drunk a lot.
The only snacks were a few meat dumplings, but the alcohol was just too good.
"Pwah—!"
"Oh, quite bold! You still have the stamina to down it in one go. I thought you hadn't trained in martial arts."
"Heh heh, I may not look it, but I've beaten peak experts in drinking bets."
"Is a peak expert considered a master?"
"…"
"Just kidding."
My eyelids are starting to feel heavy.
I was confident in my drinking, but beating a real martial artist at it is impossible.
She's probably drunk twice as much as me, yet she's barely showing a flush on her cheeks—nothing more.
From what I can tell, even that flush is something she's deliberately allowing. If she wanted, she could sober up completely in an instant.
"By the way, that bloodstained cloak of yours is fascinating. No matter how much your posture slumps, I can't see your face at all. Truly a marvel."
From my perspective, martial arts and this cloak are both marvels, but it seems Central Plains folks don't see it that way.
They take martial arts and formations for granted but find something like this curious.
"You can think of it as a kind of formation."
"Hmm… A formation that can even deceive my eyes…"
"…Please don't take offense. It was really hard to come by."
"Well, I suppose you have your own secrets. I won't pry."
"Thank you…"
"But is there a reason you go to such lengths to hide your true appearance?"
What a frequently asked question.
At this point, I have to think back to remember how I've answered it before.
"My face is hideous."
"…?"
"They say it looks like fermented soybean paste that fell from a rooftop. Some even asked if my parents abandoned me because I was so ugly."
"…Hm."
"Well, isn't this how the heavens intended me to be born? What does appearance matter? I eat well, earn well, and spend well—that's a life anyone would envy, isn't it?"
"You're quite optimistic. It must not be a pleasant memory."
It's not a lie—I've actually heard those things.
"O Heaven of the Divine Cult, people like me—fortune tellers, that is—we live enjoying the present. We can see others' futures but not our own, so instead of preparing for the distant future, we focus only on the near future or the now."
"Hm?"
"For example, let's say I read someone's fortune at a tavern and helped them avoid drinking from a poisoned cup. I'd jingle the coins they gave me, smile happily, and prepare my own drink. But whether that cup I pour for myself has poison in it? I wouldn't know."
"So you can save others' lives but not your own?"
"Exactly. If I obsessed over the future, I'd have to suspect death at every moment. Is there poison in the meal I'm eating? Will the martial artist passing by stab me in the neck? Will a child walking by suddenly turn and plunge a knife into my stomach?"
"…That sounds like a tough life."
"That's why I live in the present. To others, it might seem like a foolish way to live, but this is how I survive. I don't even save money. Who knows if someone will slit my throat and take it all the next day? I spend what I earn that day on drinks and gambling at the tavern."
"…"
"…Or so my master taught me. But since I'm a human who wants to live a bit longer, I do take some precautions."
"Pfft!"
The Heavenly Demon burst into laughter.
Not the subtle smile she'd shown before, but a sudden, uncontrollable burst of amusement.
"Did I say something funny?"
"Haha… When you're telling such a serious story and then suddenly show such a human side, doesn't it feel endearing?"
"Then I'm human, aren't I? What else would I be, a demon?"
I don't want heavy talk at a drinking table.
Life's too short to enjoy as it is—why weigh it down with serious stuff?
I hate that.
It was about time to wrap up the drinking session and prepare to leave.
I wasn't sure if I'd make it back safely in this state, but spending a night in the Demonic Cult? No thanks.
Even though we'd gotten a bit closer through our drunken heart-to-heart, my fear of the cult hadn't completely vanished.
"Are you getting ready to leave?"