For a moment, Lennox simply stared at the coin pouch on the counter, his heart thudding in disbelief. One hundred silver coins! That was a full gold coin in value. He quickly scooped up the pouch and tossed it into the cash counter for the System to handle.
"Payment of 100 silver coins acknowledged," the System chimed in his mind, its calm voice a stark contrast to the excitement bubbling in his chest.
Lennox's lips curved into a faint smile. Two mugs of Emberbrew Ale would earn him the equivalent of 1 gold coin—ten times the amount required to complete the tavern's upgrade quest.
Coupled with the Rank One magic beast core he'd purchased from George earlier, he now had everything he needed to upgrade the Mystic Tavern.
He nearly blurted out the command to the System to begin the upgrade, but he held himself back.
Not yet, he thought, his heart pounding. The upgrade would have to wait until the tavern was empty. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to the mystical nature of the place.
"Coming right up," Lennox said, suppressing his excitement as he grabbed the familiar bottle of Emberbrew Ale. The crimson glow of the liquid inside illuminated his hands as he carefully poured the drink into two heavy mugs. The rich, spicy aroma filled the room once more as he slid the mugs across the bar toward George.
The adventurer gave a nod of approval, lifting one mug high in a mock toast.
"To the success of the Mystic Tavern and its jittery but well-meaning keeper," George said with a smirk, his sharp tongue laced with rough humor.
Lennox chuckled softly, his usual nervous energy giving way to a hint of pride. "Thanks… I think," he replied, his tone more confident than before.
George took a deep sip, his single eye gleaming as the warmth of the ale spread through him. The man's satisfaction was evident as he set the mug down and shifted slightly, his stool groaning once again.
While George savored his drinks, Lennox soon busied himself with studying the stock behind the counter. His eyes roved over the bottles, each one unique and imbued with a subtle magical presence that only he, as the Mystic Tavern Master, could perceive.
A tall, elegant bottle labeled Eluna's Nectar shimmered faintly, its golden liquid occasionally rippling with streaks of silver, like moonlight reflected on a calm lake. Nearby, a bottle of Twilight Mirage shifted between deep indigo and fiery orange, as if capturing the essence of a setting sun. Shadows swirled inside, forming fleeting shapes that dissolved as quickly as they appeared.
On a lower shelf, several crystalline decanters of Infernal Emberwine stood out, their amber contents flickering softly, like tiny flames trapped in glass. Lennox could feel their warmth even from a distance, and he felt slightly invigorated by just staring at the sparkling vessels.
Lastly, his gaze fell on a small, unassuming bottle labeled Glacier's Kiss. The frosted glass seemed to exude a gentle chill, and the pale blue liquid inside sparkled faintly, reminiscent of freshly fallen snow. Its soothing aura promised calm and restoration, making it a favorite for adventurers recovering from grueling journeys.
Lennox's lips curved into a faint smile as he took in the sight. Though the tavern's stock was limited to Rank One magical drinks for now, the variety and quality were unlike anything found in Greywater—or even most places in Aetheris.
It was clear that the System had provided not just drinks, but a collection of treasures from who knows where.
He couldn't help but marvel at the System's resources. Just how powerful is this thing? he wondered, his curiosity growing with each passing second.
It was then that George's hearty laugh pulled him from his thoughts. The adventurer had drained both mugs and was already reaching for his coin pouch again.
"One more, lad!" George said, tossing another 50 silver coins onto the counter. "This stuff's too good to pass up."
Lennox quickly poured the fourth mug of Emberbrew Ale, his hands steady despite the nervous energy surging through him. The System's voice chimed in his mind again.
"Total Tavern Eearnings: 150 silver coins."
As he placed the fresh mug in front of George, the adventurer leaned forward slightly, his tone more curious than teasing.
"This stuff's rare, lad," George said, swirling the ale in his mug. "I've been around—seen my fair share of taverns—and you don't find drinks like this in a backwater place like Greywater. So tell me, where'd you get it?"
Lennox froze. His heart leapt into his throat as the question hung in the air. He couldn't tell George the truth—not about the Mystic Tavern System or the auto-restocking abilities. And he certainly couldn't claim to brew it himself; he knew nothing about magic, and George would see through that lie in an instant.
After a moment's hesitation, Lennox gave a cautious smile. "I've… recently obtained the support of a mystical backer," he said carefully. "They're the ones providing the stock for the tavern."
George's sharp eye narrowed slightly, but then he gave a slow nod, his expression shifting to one of understanding.
"Mystical backer, eh?" George said, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink. "That makes sense. No way you're whipping up something like this on your own. You're too green for that."
Lennox felt his cheeks flush but said nothing.
"But let me give you some advice, lad," George continued, setting the mug down. "If you've got rare stock like this, you're gonna need more than just good drinks. Get yourself some proper security, or you'll have every cutthroat in Greywater sniffing around here before long."
The words struck a chord. Lennox nodded, his stomach tightening as memories of being cornered by thugs flashed through his mind. He knew George was right. Magical drinks like Emberbrew Ale would inevitably attract attention, and he wasn't equipped to deal with that kind of trouble.
In the meantime, George drained the last of his fourth mug with a satisfied sigh, the faint glow of the Emberbrew Ale disappearing as he set the mug down. He reached into his pouch and left a few extra silver coins on the counter.
"Keep at it, lad," he said, standing and stretching with a faint groan. His gear clinked softly as he adjusted the thick leather straps securing it.
Lennox watched as George moved to collect his belongings.
The adventurer hefted a large, weathered bow from where it leaned against the bar—a weapon as imposing as the man who wielded it. The dark wood was polished smooth, yet it bore the scars of countless battles. With practiced ease, George slung the bow over his shoulder before grabbing a hefty sack he'd brought with him.
The sack shifted as he lifted it, the faint sound of metallic clinking coming from within. Lennox couldn't help but wonder what it contained—trophies from past adventures? Magical beast cores? Supplies for the road?
George gave the tavern a final once-over, his single eye scanning the room as if committing it to memory.
"You've got something special here," he said, his tone softer this time. "Don't waste it."
With that, he strode toward the door, his boots thudding against the wooden floor. As he pushed it open, sunlight streamed inside, illuminating the polished interior of the tavern. Outside, the bustling sounds of Greywater in the afternoon carried faintly into the room.
George paused briefly in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder.
"And lad," he added with a wry grin, "next time, make sure to have that fifth mug ready."
Before Lennox could respond, George stepped into the bright afternoon, the door creaking shut behind him.
The tavern was finally empty.
Lennox let out a long breath, leaning against the bar as he reflected on the day. The warm afternoon sunlight filtered through the tavern's windows, casting soft beams across the polished surfaces. He had sold three mugs of Emberbrew Ale—not counting the first one on the house—and earned a total of 150 silver coins, equivalent to 1 gold coin and 50 silver.
But George's warning lingered in his mind. Without proper security, the tavern's magical stock could draw covetous eyes and bring trouble to his doorstep.
His gaze fell on the glowing bottles behind the bar as a thought struck him. The upgrade quest.
The System had promised rewards for completing the quest: improved facilities, new tavern functions, and—a glimmer of hope sparked in his chest—a Rank One Ticket to Summon an Ally.
Lennox smiled faintly to himself. Perhaps the System had already planned for this. Summoning an ally could probably solve the security issue.
He moved quickly to lock up the tavern, bolting the heavy wooden doors and shutting the curtains to block out the lingering afternoon light. As he extinguished the lanterns, the room grew still, the only illumination coming from the faint, otherworldly glow of the magical drinks behind the bar.
"System," Lennox said, his voice steady, "I've met all the requirements. Let's start the upgrade."
The System's calm, precise voice responded, "Acknowledged, Tavern Master. Please place the Rank One magical beast core into the cash counter to prepare for the upgrade process."
Lennox paused, then reached into the pouch secured at his belt. His fingers brushed against the cool, smooth surface of the magical beast core—an orb that shimmered faintly with an inner light, like a captured fragment of a distant star. He pulled it out and studied it for a moment, marveling at the raw energy it seemed to radiate.
With a steady hand, he walked to the cash counter and gently placed the core inside. As it settled into place, a faint pulse of light emanated from the counter, as though the System itself were acknowledging the offering.
"Rank One Magic Beast Core received," the System announced. "Preparations for the Mystic Tavern's evolution to Rank One are now underway."