Chapter 63: When the Edges Soften

The tavern Remgar chose looked surprisingly respectable.

Considering the man leading us was a gigantic Tigerkin general whose idea of subtle combat involved two enormous greatswords and enough black aura to make daylight nervous, I had half expected his favorite drinking establishment to be a wooden shack where the chairs doubled as emergency weapons.

Instead, the place looked good.

Really good.

Warm lanternlight spilled through broad windows onto the street. Dark wood framed the entrance, polished until the grain reflected the orange glow from inside. A carved tiger symbol hung above the door, surrounded by decorative vines and little metal ornaments that chimed whenever the breeze moved through them.

Music drifted from somewhere inside.

Not loud.

Just enough to mix pleasantly with laughter, conversations, clinking cups, and the unmistakable sound of someone already losing an argument with alcohol.

Remgar spread both arms.

“Here.”

I looked at the building.

“This is much nicer than I expected.”

He frowned.

“What did you expect?”

“A hole in a wall with three chairs and a bartender named Skullcrusher.”

Treez sighed.

Remgar laughed.

Gia walked past us and entered without reacting.

Naturally.

We followed.

The tavern was busy.

Not packed tightly enough that moving required diplomacy, but definitely popular.

Round tables filled most of the room. Groups of soldiers, merchants, adventurers, laborers, and people whose professions I couldn't guess occupied them.

Glasses rose.

Dice rolled.

Someone near the back shouted triumphantly.

Another person immediately accused him of cheating.

Normal nightlife.

The smell inside was surprisingly pleasant.

Roasted nuts.

Smoked meat.

Spices.

Alcohol.

Lots of alcohol.

We moved toward the long counter.

The bartender recognized Remgar immediately.

His eyes widened.

Then he smiled.

“General.”

Remgar slapped one hand onto the counter.

“Four bottles.”

The bartender looked at the four of us.

Then back at Remgar.

“The usual?”

“The strong one.”

Treez looked at him.

“Of course.”

Remgar grinned.

The bartender disappeared beneath the counter.

Then returned carrying four bottles.

Massive bottles.

I stared.

Calling them bottles felt dishonest.

These were portable barrels wearing glass costumes.

Each one was nearly the length of my forearm, made from thick dark glass with a wide base and narrow neck.

The bartender placed them in front of us one by one.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

I looked at mine.

Then at Remgar.

“You said drinks.”

“They are drinks.”

“This could be used to defend a castle.”

“Only after you empty it.”

Fair.

I removed the stopper.

The smell reached me immediately.

I blinked.

Flowers.

Actual flowers.

Sweet.

Fragrant.

Almost like walking through a garden after rain.

I brought the bottle closer and sniffed.

“This is suspicious.”

Treez took hers.

“Why?”

“It smells too nice.”

Remgar had already started drinking.

He tilted the bottle back and gulped like someone had informed him hydration was now competitive.

I watched the liquid level drop.

“That man fears neither war nor liver damage.”

Treez smiled faintly.

Gia sat at the counter beside her.

She took the smallest sip imaginable.

Barely enough liquid touched her lips to legally qualify as drinking.

I looked at her bottle.

Then mine.

“Gia, at that speed, you'll finish around the next century.”

No response.

Consistent.

Treez drank slowly.

Controlled.

Elegant even while consuming something apparently designed to assassinate sobriety.

I took my first proper gulp.

Sweetness first.

Then floral notes.

Then warmth.

A lot of warmth.

It spread from my tongue down my throat and settled in my chest.

I blinked.

“Oh.”

Remgar lowered his bottle.

“Strong?”

“Tasty.”

He frowned.

“That wasn't my question.”

“I haven't decided yet.”

I took another drink.

Good.

Dangerously good.

If alcohol tasted this pleasant on Earth, civilization would've collapsed before discovering electricity.

We continued.

One bottle disappeared.

Then another arrived.

Then another.

At first I drank slowly.

Then faster.

Partly because I was curious.

Mostly because Remgar kept watching me as if waiting for my face to suddenly become friends with the counter.

Nothing happened.

Bottle three.

Still fine.

Bottle four.

Warm.

Relaxed.

Completely sober.

Bottle five.

I could still calculate exactly how much Remgar was embarrassing himself.

Bottle six.

No dizziness.

Bottle seven.

Nothing.

By bottle eight, I had reached a scientific conclusion.

My body had declared alcohol optional.

I stared at the empty bottles lined up in front of me.

Eight.

Eight enormous bottles.

I felt normal.

Actually, I felt better than normal because the drink tasted excellent and someone else was paying.

Gia's first bottle remained almost full.

She had consumed perhaps enough to make the liquid level question whether anything had happened.

Treez?

Halfway through hers.

Her posture remained mostly straight.

Mostly.

But her cheeks were warmer.

Her eyes slightly softer.

And whenever she turned her head, the movement had gained a tiny delay between decision and execution.

Remgar?

Ten bottles.

Ten.

The great Supreme General challenger enthusiast had transformed into a monument dedicated to bad choices.

His face was red.

Tiger ears slightly drooped.

His eyes kept narrowing as though the room had personally decided to multiply.

He pointed at me.

His finger missed by several inches.

“How?”

I looked behind myself.

“Who are you pointing at?”

“You.”

“Try again.”

He corrected.

Still missed.

Close enough.

“How are you feeling?”

“Excellent.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You drank eight.”

“I counted too.”

“You should be drunk.”

“I agree.”

Remgar stared at me like I had personally broken alcohol.

I shrugged.

“It tastes great.”

“But?”

“That's it.”

“No drunk?”

“Nope.”

“How?”

“Excellent genetics?”

I had no idea.

My tolerance had been ridiculous since arriving in Aphrodasia.

At this point, alcohol entered my body, looked around, realized nobody respected it, and quietly left.

Remgar opened his mouth.

Instead of answering, he burped.

Loudly.

Several customers looked over.

He nodded solemnly at them like the burp had been a military announcement.

Then his face dropped onto the counter.

THUD.

The bottles jumped.

I looked at him.

Treez looked at him.

Gia looked at him.

Remgar remained face-down.

Treez blinked.

“I believe Remgar has had enough.”

Gia nodded.

I poked his shoulder.

Nothing.

“He's alive.”

Treez sighed.

“Unfortunately for his pride, yes.”

She looked at Gia.

“You should take him home.”

Gia's expression didn't change.

Treez continued.

“His wife will already be wondering where he is.”

Pause.

“And if he arrives like this again, she will give him another very long lecture.”

Gia nodded.

Again.

I looked at Remgar.

“You have a wife?”

No answer.

Obviously.

Treez looked amused.

“He does.”

“And she scolds the giant executioner.”

“Regularly.”

I stared at Remgar's unconscious armored mountain of a body.

“I respect her already.”

Gia stood.

She moved toward Remgar.

Then stopped beside him.

I watched with interest.

She lifted one of his enormous arms.

Placed it around her shoulders.

The visual difference was absurd.

Gia looked delicate beside him.

Remgar looked like someone had attached a castle gate to a woman.

I almost offered help.

Then shadows gathered beneath their feet.

Darkness curled upward.

Covered them.

For one instant, both bodies blurred.

Then vanished.

Completely.

No flash.

No noise.

Nothing.

One moment Gia was standing there supporting an unconscious giant.

The next, empty floor.

I stared.

“That is an extremely convenient ability.”

Treez lifted her bottle.

“It is.”

“Especially for transporting drunk generals.”

Treez took a drink.

A much larger one than any she had taken all evening.

I noticed.

She didn't sip.

She gulped.

Several times.

When she lowered the bottle, she exhaled.

Slowly.

Her cheeks became even redder.

I raised an eyebrow.

Interesting.

That looked less like thirst and more like preparation.

Preparing for what?

No clue.

Treez looked toward me.

Her black eyes stayed there slightly longer than usual.

Then she cleared her throat.

“Well.”

I waited.

“It appears ensuring you return safely to your room has become my responsibility.”

I looked at the eight empty bottles in front of me.

Then at her half-finished one.

“I feel like our roles may be reversed.”

Treez stood.

She immediately swayed.

Just slightly.

I pointed.

“Evidence.”

“I am fine.”

“Strong opening.”

She walked toward the exit.

Not perfectly straight.

But close.

I paid attention anyway.

Treez was definitely affected.

Not unconscious.

Not incoherent.

She still knew exactly where she was and what she was saying.

But the alcohol had loosened something.

Maybe posture.

Maybe caution.

Probably both.

I followed.

Outside, cooler night air greeted us.

The city had become fully dark now.

Lanterns lined the streets.

Red lights hung from balconies.

Warm yellow light spilled through windows.

Agran's capital remained alive around us, though quieter than before.

Treez walked beside me.

For approximately twenty steps.

Then one foot landed slightly wrong.

Her balance shifted.

I caught her arm.

“Got you.”

Treez looked down at my hand.

Then at me.

“I wasn't falling.”

“You were negotiating aggressively with gravity.”

“I would have recovered.”

“Absolutely.”

She tried taking another step.

Swayed again.

Fine.

I lifted her arm and placed it over my shoulders.

My other hand steadied her near the waist.

“That should help.”

Treez didn't argue.

Instead, I heard something.

Tiny.

A giggle.

I turned.

“What?”

Treez's face had already returned to normal.

Mostly.

She looked straight ahead.

“Nothing.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“You giggled.”

“No.”

“You absolutely giggled.”

“You imagined it.”

Suspicious.

We continued.

Her weight rested lightly against me.

The alcohol had made her movements less precise, but she could still walk.

After another block, Treez sighed.

“That drink is stronger than I remembered.”

“I can tell.”

She looked at me.

“You are completely unaffected.”

“Apparently.”

“That is unfair.”

“Life gives everyone talents.”

“You call that a talent?”

“When free drinks exist? Absolutely.”

Treez laughed softly.

Then stopped.

She looked toward another street.

“I know somewhere.”

“That sentence has been dangerous every time someone says it to me.”

Treez blinked.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She pointed toward an uphill road.

“Perhaps we should go there before returning.”

I looked at her.

“You can still walk?”

Treez straightened with exaggerated dignity.

“Of course.”

Then immediately leaned against me again.

I smiled.

“Very convincing.”

She ignored the comment.

We followed the uphill road.

The farther we traveled, the quieter the city became.

Buildings thinned.

The streets narrowed.

Eventually Treez guided me onto a broad stone terrace built along one of the higher sections of the capital.

No crowd.

No guards nearby.

No tavern noise.

Just city lights below.

A stone barricade ran along the edge.

Beyond it, Agran's capital spread beneath us.

Thousands of lanterns.

Roofs.

Towers.

Bridges.

Roads glowing in long lines.

The castle rose behind and above much of it, while distant neighborhoods disappeared into darkness near the outer walls.

Treez moved toward the barrier.

She leaned against it.

Then smiled.

Not the polite smile she used during serious conversation.

Something softer.

Familiar.

“I used to come here often.”

I leaned beside her.

“Good choice.”

The breeze moved through her red hair.

She looked down at the city.

“I grew up seeing this view almost every night.”

I glanced at her.

“Nearby?”

She nodded.

“My family's home wasn't far from here.”

For a while, she simply watched.

Then unexpectedly:

“I was once betrothed.”

I blinked.

“That came out of nowhere.”

Treez smiled faintly.

“The alcohol.”

“Ah.”

“Apparently it dislikes orderly conversation.”

“I support it.”

She looked at me.

I rested my arms on the stone.

“So.”

“So?”

“Who was the lucky man?”

Treez's smile became strange.

“He was a noble.”

“Was?”

“Yes.”

Past tense.

Interesting.

“His family owned substantial land outside the capital.”

“Rich.”

“Very.”

“Important.”

“Enough.”

“And you were supposed to marry him.”

“Yes.”

I looked at her.

“You didn't.”

Treez smiled.

“No.”

“What happened?”

She looked back toward the city.

“The day he came with his parents to formally take my hand…”

Pause.

“…I beat him nearly unconscious with magic.”

I stared.

Treez continued calmly.

“In front of both families.”

I stared harder.

She finally looked at me.

“What?”

“I am searching for the correct response.”

“Have you found one?”

“No.”

I lifted one finger.

“Congratulations?”

She laughed.

“That might work.”

“What did he do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I simply didn't want to marry him.”

I slowly nodded.

“And your preferred method of declining was magical assault.”

“My parents weren't listening.”

Ah.

That added context.

Treez's smile faded slightly.

“I had already refused.”

“They ignored you.”

“Yes.”

“So when he arrived…”

“I made the answer impossible to misunderstand.”

I laughed.

“Extremely direct.”

“I was younger.”

“Doesn't sound like you've changed that much.”

Treez bumped her shoulder lightly against mine.

Then looked down again.

“Afterward, I demanded freedom.”

“From the engagement?”

“From all of it.”

Her family.

Expectations.

Marriage.

Probably the life someone else had planned on her behalf.

I understood that part.

“Did they agree?”

Treez sighed.

“Not immediately.”

“Of course.”

“But then Rel appeared.”

I turned.

“Rel?”

“Yes.”

That I needed to hear.

“What did she do?”

Treez's eyes softened with the memory.

“She came to our home.”

“And?”

“Recruited me into the army.”

I stared.

“She just walked into your house and took you?”

Treez laughed.

“Not exactly.”

“But approximately.”

“Approximately.”

I could picture it.

Young Treez's parents probably arguing about reputation.

Marriage arrangements shattered.

Noble family furious.

Then Rel kicked open the emotional front door wearing a cheerful smile and announced she wanted their daughter for military service.

Treez continued.

“She arrived with so much enthusiasm that my parents barely understood what was happening until they had already agreed.”

I laughed.

“That sounds exactly like her.”

“It was.”

“And joining the army gave you what you wanted?”

Treez became quiet.

She looked at the lights below.

“Some of it.”

“Freedom.”

“Yes.”

“Not all?”

“No.”

Her smile became smaller.

“It wasn't the complete freedom I had imagined.”

Orders.

Duty.

War.

Serving the queen.

Being Legion Magus.

I understood.

“But it was more than before.”

Treez nodded.

“Enough to breathe.”

That sounded important.

The breeze moved between us.

Then Treez turned.

Looked directly at me.

Not casually.

Studying.

Her black eyes remained on mine for several seconds.

I waited.

Then more seconds.

I touched my cheek.

“Is something wrong with my face?”

Treez slowly shook her head.

“No.”

“Food stuck somewhere?”

“No.”

“Rel rearranged it permanently?”

She smiled.

“No.”

“Then why are you staring?”

Treez hesitated.

“I noticed something the first time we met.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Something terrible?”

“Your eyes.”

I smirked.

“Really?”

She nodded.

“What about them?”

Treez shifted closer.

Not much.

Her gaze stayed locked with mine.

“They feel strange.”

“That sounded romantic until strange.”

She smiled.

“Not strange in a bad way.”

“Recovery successful.”

Treez's voice softened.

“Whenever someone looks into them…”

She paused.

“…it feels as though they're being pulled closer.”

I tilted my head.

“My eyes are kidnapping people now?”

Treez laughed quietly.

“You ruin everything.”

“Professional skill.”

She kept looking.

Her expression had changed.

The alcohol had softened her usual discipline.

But her attention was clear.

She knew exactly who I was.

Exactly where we were.

Exactly what she was saying.

I smiled.

“So is that a bad thing?”

Treez's lips curved.

“Yes.”

I blinked.

“Wow.”

Then she leaned toward me.

No warning.

No dramatic speech.

Her lips touched mine.

Soft.

Brief.

Warm.

A simple kiss.

Barely a few seconds.

Then Treez pulled back.

Her face immediately became red.

Very red.

I remained still.

Mostly because watching her process what she'd just done was fascinating.

Her eyes widened slightly.

Then looked away.

“I shouldn't have done that.”

I laughed.

Treez snapped her gaze back.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because you're cute.”

Her face somehow became warmer.

She looked away again.

“That is not funny.”

“It is from here.”

“The alcohol gave me too much courage.”

“Apparently.”

Treez rubbed one cheek.

I watched her.

Then smiled.

“How about this?”

She glanced over.

“We go somewhere quieter.”

Her eyes sharpened.

I continued, “Somewhere private.”

Treez understood immediately.

That was obvious from the new wave of red spreading across her face.

I added lightly, “Before you decide this sudden courage should be arrested.”

She stared.

Not offended.

Not confused.

Just embarrassed.

Very embarrassed.

Then she looked down.

Thought.

Long enough that I didn't interrupt.

Finally, she slowly nodded.

“I wouldn't mind.”

Dangerous words.

Very cute delivery.

I held out my hand.

Treez looked at it.

But I didn't move closer.

“Before you take that hand…”

Her eyes lifted toward mine.

“…are you sure?”

She remained quiet.

I continued.

“You know what I'm implying.”

Treez's expression steadied.

The embarrassment stayed, but she was listening.

“And I'm asking whether you're choosing it because you actually want to.”

Her gaze remained on mine.

Then she smiled.

Small.

Hesitant.

But deliberate.

Treez reached out.

Her fingers slipped into mine.

“I am sure.”

I waited.

She continued.

“And I am not so innocent that I don't understand what you mean.”

Her grip tightened gently around my hand.

I smiled.

“Good.”

Treez's eyes stayed on mine.

“Then we have an understanding.”