Experiencing Life Is No Easy Matter

Hill couldn't help laughing. "I'm actually quite good at brewing wine. I rarely fail. Do you want to buy some for those soldiers?"

Though he was the Sheriff, Lynn did not need to Charge into the front lines himself. He was mainly responsible for buffs.

Bards were also considered spellcasting professions, so he probably did not have many injuries.

As for his tavern, Lynn would never casually sell Elven Wine. Even if Hill's fruit wine could fill his warehouse, Lynn would not sell it indiscriminately.

Elven Wine was not particularly precious to Elves and even some Half-Elves, but for those who could not enter the Elven Forest to pick fruit, it was something they simply could not afford.

No Elf had ever shattered the illusion that Elven Wine was rare and scarce.

It was a means of making a living for some commoner Elves, and Hill could not possibly sell Elven Wine in large quantities simply because he had enough fruit.

As for Lynn, given how hospitable he was even toward unfamiliar kin, he was even less likely to do such a thing.

Lynn understood very well why Hill wore such a hypocritical fake smile. The Elven elders in his family belonged to that rare group who simply could not brew wine, yet loved drinking it dearly.

The reason he had opened this tavern was to make up for years of pent-up resentment: If I can't brew it myself, can't I at least drink more varieties?

"These soldiers train rather hard." Lynn glanced at Hill. "They're all children from ordinary families. Becoming town soldiers is the best path available to them, so they train desperately. Many can only advance by sacrificing their talent and future.

"I have Gold Elf blood too. Since I was little, I never thought Elven Wine