The inn was eerily quiet.
A brown-bearded man drowned his nervousness with a glass of blood whiskey. It was heavy stuff that could knock down a grown man with just one sip.
However, he looked just a little bit tipsy.
The innkeeper stood behind the receptionist desk. He didn't feel like working, as the atmosphere was just so heavy and tense.
The other patrons were lurking near the windows and looking outside.
"Those bells signaled that the war has started, right?"
"Those were the bells of declaration of the war. The church has now approved the war. Its just blood, steel, and death from now on."
"Shit…" the brown-bearded man said.
"We're all in for it now." The innkeeper said. "You're being sent to the front lines?"
"Yes." The brown-bearded man said in anger. "I am part of the Darkstar faction just because the construction company I am working with has a contract with them about building a new storage room for them."
