Emperor's Wine

Northern Plateau, Bia Region.

Along the roadside were vast fields of ripe wheat, their golden ears drooping heavily. When the wind swept through, it created waves that stretched out in long, continuous ripples.

The town at the edge of the horizon was more prosperous than I had expected. Stone and wood houses stood side by side, including many three- or four-story buildings. People came and went on the streets, not exactly shoulder to shoulder, but there was a peaceful liveliness to it. In addition to the smell of dust and livestock, there was also a faint, intoxicating aroma of fermenting grains in the air.

Fern walked down the street, her pale purple eyes scanning the shop signs on both sides.

"There are towns in the Northern Plateau too," she said softly, her tone surprisingly calm. "I thought this place was full of monsters."

Her gaze swept over yet another shopfront displaying an oak wine glass sign.

"And there are many taverns."

Frieren walked beside her, her long, silvery-white hair swaying slightly in the dry wind.

"This is the only grain-producing area on the Northern Plateau," she explained. "Only with a protective barrier and heavy military presence can one survive in such a place. Brewing has been a highly developed industry here for a very long time."

The four of them found a tavern that looked fairly clean, went inside, and sat down by the window.

The wooden table was sturdy, with some scratches on its surface from years of use. Outside the window was the street, where occasionally a horse-drawn cart loaded with sheaves of wheat would rumble by.

We ordered simple food—rye bread, bacon, stewed beans, and a large glass of water for each person. The food was served quickly, the portions were generous, the taste was average, but it was enough to fill our stomachs.

The tavern was noisy with people. A fire crackled in the fireplace.

At the next table, two middle-aged men, dressed in coarse cloth and with tanned reddish-brown cheeks, were drinking ale and chatting. Their loud voices carried clearly through the noisy background.

"Have you heard? Lord Fass is almost there, he's finally found the Emperor's Wine he's been longing for!"

"Really? My grandpa's been looking for it since he was a child, right?"

"It's true! The whole city's buzzing with it..."

Fern picked up a piece of bread, broke it off, and chewed slowly. She listened to the conversation beside her; her pale purple eyelashes drooped slightly, then lifted again.

"Emperor's Wine?" She put down her food, her voice steady. "I remember Lord Heiter mentioned this."

She looked at Frieren.

"It is said to be the finest wine offered to the emperor upon his ascension to the throne of an empire that once ruled over most of the continent."

She paused, her lips pursed downwards, Imitation a certain tone of voice.

He looked a bit awkward and said, "You guys prevented me from drinking this kind of wine."

Frieren was poking at the stewed beans in her plate with her fork when she heard this. She looked up and blinked her emerald green eyes.

"... How could we let him look for alcohol here?"

Her tone was flat, making it impossible to tell whether she agreed or disagreed.

"I don't care. Himmel and the others still have to go and fight the Demon King."

Lowell swallowed the bacon in his mouth, picked up his water glass, and took a sip.

"Yes," he said, putting down his cup, "And this situation... is rather special."

He didn't elaborate, his gaze sweeping across the street outside the window before returning to his own.

After finishing their meal, the group stood on the street outside the tavern.

The afternoon sun was a bit dazzling, but the air was still cool. Dust on the street floated slowly in the beams of sunlight.

Frieren patted her hands, brushing off non-existent food crumbs.

"Alright, let's go," she said. "Leave as soon as possible. It's safe here, but it's getting boring after a while."

She had barely finished speaking.

"Oh--!"

A loud, surprised shout rang out from the other end of the street.

The crowd parted, and a figure strode quickly toward them.

He was a dwarf with a big beard. He wore a well-designed but obviously old black top hat, which almost flew off as he ran, but he caught it. Over it was a dusty travel cloak.

He rushed forward, stopped, his chest heaving slightly with excitement. His eyes widened as he looked at Lowell, then at Frieren, a big, undisguised smile spreading across his face.

"Aren't these Lowell and Frieren!"

His voice was loud, attracting the attention of several passersby.

"It's been a hundred years!"

Frieren looked at him, her emerald eyes blinking calmly. She thought for a moment, then tilted her head.

"It should be around the 1980s, right?"

Fass was taken aback for a moment, then burst into laughter, patting his muscular chest forcefully.

"Hmm? You remember it quite clearly!" He laughed heartily. "That's a bit unlike you!"

Lowell smiled and nodded.

"Indeed. Almost eighty years."

He added in his mind, "That (original) Frieren must have remembered it so clearly because that time was so special. And for her now... it's just as important."

After laughing enough, Fass's gaze finally fell on Fern and Liletta beside him, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Haha... we have two new faces now!"

He stroked his beard, his gaze sweeping over Fern's mage robes and Liletta's calm face, then, as if suddenly remembering something, turned to Frieren.

"Where's that young man who likes to drink?"

"Heiter," Frieren said, "Is a bishop in the Royal Capital."

"Oh?" Fass's eyes lit up, and he laughed again, his laughter tinged with emotion. "Hahaha... Really? That's wonderful!"

His tone softened.

"That's true. In human terms, he's quite old. He shouldn't be running around like this anymore."

Fern stood to the side, raised his eyes upon hearing this, his pale purple eyes looking at Fass, his voice clear and steady.

"No. Lord Heiter is quite young, and he's never without his wine..."

Fass's smile froze for a moment. He turned his head, looked intently at Fern, and raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah?"

He stroked his beard, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes, which then turned into an even brighter smile.

"That really is a solution! Great news, this is great news!"

He nodded vigorously, then, as if suddenly remembering something important, leaned forward, lowered his voice slightly, but it was still loud and clear.

"That's right! I've found the location of the Emperor's Wine!"

He looked intently at Lowell and Frieren, his gaze filled with undisguised anticipation.

"Could you lend me a hand? Both of you, whoever you are, know magic, right? Once you find it, bring some back for little Heiter; he'll be very happy!"

Frieren looked at him, not answering immediately. Her emerald eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of doubt flashing within them.

What does Emperor's Wine have to do with magic?

She asked.

Just then...

A calm, melodious voice, with a touch of forest-like coolness, interrupted from the side.

"It's probably sealed."

The group turned their heads at the same time, looking towards the source of the sound.

Two people were standing at the entrance of the alley next to the tavern.

Ahead stood an elf. His golden hair flowed like sunlight, casually draped over his shoulders. He wore a simple green robe, and his face was exquisitely beautiful, almost perfect. His emerald eyes gazed calmly in their direction; it was Adonis.

Beside him, leaning against the wall, stood a young man. He had long hair like unpolished obsidian fragments, with a few strands hanging listlessly over his forehead. His skin was a dark grayish-blue, similar to slate. His eyes were half-closed, and his head was nodding, as if he was about to fall asleep standing up.

It's Elder.

Adonis's gaze slowly swept across the faces of the group, pausing briefly on Frieren and Lowell before finally settling on Fass.

"I've been searching for the Emperor's Wine for a long time, and that legendary thing..." he continued loudly, his emotions flat, "If it could truly have survived to this day, it must have been sealed or hidden using extremely powerful magic. Otherwise, it would have been exhausted by time or by those who coveted it long ago, wouldn't you agree?"

Fass blinked at Adonis and Elder who had suddenly appeared, then grinned.

"This elf is right!"

He clapped his hands forcefully.

"How about it? You lot, lend me a hand? The pay is negotiable! I, Fass, have some connections around here!"

The streets were bustling with people. The sounds of carriage wheels, vendors' cries, and the clanging of blacksmiths in the distance blended together into a tranquil background ambiance.

The wind swept through the streets, stirring up some dust and bringing with it the dry, warm scent of the wheat fields further away.

Lowell glanced at Frieren, then at Fass looked on expectantly, and finally at Adonis had just appeared and seemed quite enthusiastic about the matter.

He raised his hand and touched the back of his head.

Elder leaned against the wall, letting out a long, even breath, and fell into a deeper sleep.