[Possible space-time] in reverse

Schritt sat on the cold stone steps at the tavern entrance, clutching her precious bottle.

She leaned against the door and tilted her head back to take another gulp. The liquor slid down her throat, bringing a familiar burning sensation. She squinted, let out a long sigh, and the white mist dissipated into the night.

Footsteps approached from the side.

It was very soft, almost inaudible, but Schritt still turned her head, her green eyes lazily lifting.

Lore stood before her, eyes closed. Her dark nun's habit remained motionless in the night wind, her hands clasped in front of her, like a moving statue.

"Have you had too much to drink?"

Schritt twitched the corners of her mouth, a smile tinged with intoxication, but her eyes were clear.

"Blame the bar if you must." She shook the bottle in her hand, the liquid inside making a soft gurgling sound. "It was the one that loved me first."

"What? You're so drunk you can't even come up with such a flimsy excuse." Lore's voice was flat, but it hit the nail on the head.

The wooden door behind me creaked open from the inside.

Wolf stood in the doorway, holding a rag. He glanced at Schritt, who was sitting on the floor, then looked at Lore.

"I've already told her to go back immediately." His voice was calm, devoid of emotion. "She just won't listen. She only listens to what the drunkard says."

Lore didn't reply. She closed her eyes and "looked" at Schritt for a few seconds, as if confirming something, then turned sideways and walked into the tavern through the crack in the door that Wolf had made.

Wolf waited until Lore went inside, then his gaze returned to Schritt. He stood there for two seconds, said nothing, and turned to close the door.

The door hinges closed with a short, soft click.

Inside the tavern.

Lore walked to the bar and stopped.

Gazella lay sprawled across the other end of the bar, his face buried in his crossed arms, only his disheveled hair showing. In front of him sat an empty wooden barrel glass, the amber liquid still clinging to its sides.

Wolf walked behind the bar and draped the rag he was carrying over his shoulder. He glanced at Lore.

"What? You want the wine for the ceremony?" His voice was clear in the quiet room. "Lore, this is just a small tavern. You want to buy something so important from me? I only have cheap stuff, not worthy of Goddess."

Lore closed her eyes, facing the direction of Wolf's voice.

"As long as one has faith, material value becomes unimportant. That's what Clematis said."

Wolf turned his back and scanned the liquor rack. The bottles were of varying heights and labels. He reached out and took a bottle of dark red liquid from the bottom shelf, which contained no label and was in a plain glass bottle. He placed it on the bar.

The bottom of the bottle hit the wooden board with a dull thud.

"He certainly knows how to talk," Wolf said, turning around and wiping his hands with a rag. "He's just trying to save money, isn't he? How about the cheapest one?"

Gazella's head moved slightly. He slowly raised his face, his eyes were a little red, his face was expressionless, but his gaze was unfocused, staring at the empty glass in front of him.

"... You're all crazy."

"In two more days, we might all be dead."

Lore turned her head to look at him.

"Oh dear," she said, "Is she drunk and confused, or is she telling the truth?"

Wolf remained expressionless, picked up the bottle of cheap red wine, and wiped the bottle with a cloth.

"It's drunken talk, but it's also the truth." He stopped and turned to Gazella. "Hey, listen, most of life is just this kind of seemingly uneventful daily routine."

He placed the bottle in the center of the bar.

"If you're not prepared for a situation like this, and you don't die, the days ahead will be very troublesome. I've experienced this kind of trouble several times already."

He took the four silver coins from his pocket, placed them on the bar, and pushed them in front of Gazella. The metal gleamed matte under the lamplight.

"I appreciate you still extending credit to me. But if you're prepared to die and have given me all your possessions, then I'll return the money to you."

Gazella's gaze fell on the four silver coins. He looked at them for a few seconds, then raised his hand and made a slight pushing gesture.

"Not really. I made a windfall these past couple of days. That money came from a few items I sold during the National Day holiday..."

Wolf nodded.

"Really? Then I'll..."

He reached out to take the silver coin back.

"Etc."

Lore's voice suddenly rang out.

Wolf's hand froze in mid-air. He turned to look at Lore.

Lore kept her eyes closed, but her face was slightly turned towards the silver coin.

What is that?

Wolf glanced at her, then at the silver coins.

"Honestly, can't you open your eyes and see for yourself? It's silver coins. Gazella owes me money, and this is what he's paying me back."

"Please show me."

Wolf paused for a moment, then picked up the four silver coins and handed them over.

"Sure, sure, what's wrong?"

Lore took the silver coin with both hands, cupped it in her palms, and gently rubbed the metal surface with her fingertips.

A few seconds later, she stopped.

"As expected. I can sense magic in it. It's Tracking Magic, Gazella."

Gazella paused for a moment.

"How could this be... I checked it..."

"It's not your fault. The other party's methods were quite sophisticated. Using silver coins as a medium, they skillfully concealed the traces of magic."

She turned to Wolf.

"Wolf, Gazella, get into combat mode immediately."

Wolf responded with an "Oh."

"Use silver coins to conceal... silver coins, conceal... silver coins, conceal..."

His lips twitched very slightly.

"It's hilarious."

As he finished speaking, the longbow wrapped in cloth was already in his hand. A corner of the cloth slipped down, revealing the smooth, dark wood bow arm.

Gazella stood up somewhat dejectedly, looking rather listless.

Meanwhile, on the other side, on the street...

Frieren stopped in her tracks.

She was walking ahead of Fern and Red Hair, and as they were passing a relatively quiet side road, she suddenly stopped.

When Fern noticed that she had stopped, he also stopped and turned his head to the side.

"Lady Frieren, what's wrong?"

Frieren didn't answer immediately.

She stood still, her emerald eyes slightly narrowed, gazing in a distant direction—the way they had come. Further away, the outlines of the rooftops of the Imperial Capital's working-class district blended into the deep night.

Frieren was silent for a few seconds.

"It has been detected from the reverse side."