The natural barrier of poisonous miasma made it nearly impossible for adventurers or scholars from the Eastern Continent to set foot on the Western Continent. As a result, studies of the Western Continent were always filled with distorted, demonized imaginings of Demon race society, assuming this place had to be a primitive world where the strong preyed on the weak and people drank blood and ate raw flesh, almost entirely divorced from the word civilization.
Ivette would not think that way, but after staying on the Eastern Continent for so long, she had inevitably been influenced a little.
Now, sensing the goodwill the Slime bartender revealed between his words, she felt that she really had needed to come and see for herself. Never mind the ordinary rumors in taverns—even the books in the General Studies Academy library contained many false records about the Western Continent. Calling them fabricated would not have been an exaggeration. It was practically knowledge pollution.
Then again, perhaps they had not been fabricated. After all, much of the information was decades or even centuries old. It might simply have been far too outdated—
Thinking of how even something as major as the Night Demon King's abdication had produced no rumors whatsoever on the Eastern Continent, Ivette felt that was probably the case.
Still seated beside the bar, Ivette flipped through the menu carved onto thin wooden boards. After looking for a long time, she did not see a single dish name that could stir anyone's appetite. Compared to bizarre foods like "Acid Worm Skewers" and "Spiny Beetle Eggs," even Filtered Mud Soup looked rather pleasing.
She put down the menu and asked again, "Where is Demon King's Castle?"
Slippery Jim made a shrugging gesture with one transparent tentacle, his semi-liquid body swaying slightly. "How would I