Night.
The backyard of the Charcoal Fire Inn.
The place was bustling with voices.
The elegant, clear scales of the lute, accompanied by the crackling of the bonfire and the sizzling of roasting meat, seemed to take on a touch of smoky warmth that was just salty and sweet enough.
Barrels of beer were carried out of the cellar by the servers.
People in all kinds of clothing cheered and celebrated this rare evening.
In a corner.
Beside a lone barbecue grill.
Large chunks of beef and a whole rack of lamb ribs were constantly being turned over.
Roger skillfully brushed honey and sauce onto the food.
The gurgling sound of someone swallowing saliva came from beside him.
"I think it's ready to eat."
Rachel looked around for a while before shouting in a low, serious voice.
"Here, eat this first."
Roger didn't make the ravenous girl wait. He handed her a sausage.
Rachel bit off half of it in one bite.
Sweet, greasy yellow juice splattered out and landed on her face. The girl nimbly stuck out her tongue and licked it clean in no time.
After eating the entire sausage, Rachel stared eagerly at the grilled lamb ribs.
Roger smiled and gently advised, "Wait a little longer."
"They were only just put on."
Rachel's cheeks puffed out slightly, but she still nodded seriously.
In the backyard, the bard holding the lute raised a hand.
The tune suddenly changed from melodious to lively.
Someone dressed like an Adventurer whistled, while others began dancing wildly.
Even Roger couldn't help but speed up his work.
Everything seemed so cheerful.
Perhaps noticing the change in Roger's mood, Rachel took the initiative to speak—a rare occurrence.
"Paramount Manor is a good place."
Roger nodded.
He had already sensed that.
"Can you tell me