The Moon Feast was fast approaching.
Every household in Newm City had made preparations to welcome the festival.
Candlesticks and lamps, altar incense—even the plane trees lining Eagle Emblem Avenue in the wealthy district had been hung with specially made pendants, waiting only for night to deepen and the moonlight to grow thick enough to reflect a scattering of starlike glimmers.
The Iron Barrel Toad was no high-end tavern, but as a well-known gathering place for adventurers in the nearby district, business had always been good.
It had both the money and the inclination to decorate.
Now the inside of the tavern had already been adorned with decorations of all sizes related to the Moon Feast.
Naturally, it could not be as extravagant and wasteful as the streets of the rich, but a few plush tapestries printed with the Silver Moon Pattern, the soft lyre music of a specially hired bard, and two or three discounted festival drinks were enough for the patrons inside to feel the festive atmosphere.
"You have absolutely never seen that many Gray Fur Rats!"
"Good grief, it was worse than flies at a dump. You've all been to the sewers, right? Places wider than the streets of the Lower City District were packed full of them. Just imagine it!"
The crystal-clear liquor swayed, spilling a few drops over the rim of the cup.
Iron Head gripped his cup tightly in one hand, a faint flush spreading across both cheeks. Clearly, he was already a little drunk.
Because of that, his expression grew all the more heated. Spittle flew as his raised voice repeatedly drew sideways glances from the patrons at the neighboring tables.
And sitting opposite him were, naturally, several henchmen under his Grey Irrigation Gang.
"And those weren't the little palm-sized rats you usually