I swaggered into the Black Stone Tavern, the creak of the wooden floorboards under my boots drowned out by the usual din of clinking mugs and rowdy laughter. The air smelled of stale ale and roasted Gromble fat, but my eyes were already locked on the real prize—Bera, leaning over the bar, her curves practically begging for a quip. Her apron strained against her chest, and I swear those assets could start a tavern brawl on their own.
Lila, wiping down tables, shot Bera a glare, her tight skirt hugging an ass that could make a monk forget his vows. The rivalry between those two was hotter than a Lava Dragon's breath, and I was the lucky bastard stirring the pot.
"Oi, Bera," I called, sliding onto a stool. "You serving drinks or just showing off the twins tonight?" I grinned, dodging the rag she chucked at my head.
"Keep your eyes in your skull, Killyaen," Bera snapped, her fiery wit as sharp as ever. "Or I'll burn that smirk off with a Fire Qi spark." She crossed her arms, pushing her chest out further, and I didn't even try to hide my stare.
Lila sauntered over, hips swaying like she owned the damn place.
"Oh, Bera, flaunting those udders again? No wonder Killy's drooling—he's got a thing for quantity over quality." She smirked, turning slightly to show off her perfectly sculpted backside.
"Some of us don't need to spill out of our clothes to get attention."
Bera's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in them. "Quality? Please, Lila. That bony ass of yours looks like it's been carved from Zenoite—hard and flat. At least I've got something worth grabbing." She leaned forward, daring Lila to keep going.
I laughed, leaning back to enjoy the show. "Ladies, no need to fight. There's enough of me to appreciate both your… assets." That earned me a synchronized glare, but I could tell they were eating up the attention. Chaos was my canvas, and these two were my masterpiece.
Before they could escalate to throwing punches—or worse, teaming up to roast me—Janko stormed in, his face still smudged with faint streaks of black paint from the whiskers I'd smeared on him days ago. The village was already calling him "Double-Whisker Wretch" after that glowing masterpiece, and I wasn't about to let him live it down.
"Well, if it ain't the Plumed Cat's uglier brother!" I shouted, drawing a few chuckles from the tavern crowd. Janko's scowl could've curdled milk, but I was already plotting my next move.
See, I'd spent the morning rigging my latest prank—no Moonflower sap, moozze tails, or Gromble oil this time. I'd gotten creative, scavenging a batch of crushed Starbloom petals from the forest. Those little bastards glowed soft blue under moonlight and stuck to anything like a jealous lover. I'd mixed them with some tavern flour and packed the blend into a hollowed-out loaf of bread, rigged to burst when someone—say, a certain Double-Whisker Wretch—grabbed it. I'd left it on Janko's usual table, marked with a taunting note: "For the Cat Who's Got It All."
The trap was set; now I just needed him to take the bait.Janko, oblivious, slumped into his seat, muttering curses about me and my paintbrush. I winked at Bera, who rolled her eyes but smirked, and Lila, who flipped her hair and pretended not to care.
The tavern was buzzing, but my focus was split between Janko's impending doom and the way Bera's apron hugged her waist. Damn, that woman was trouble.
Training with Goran earlier had been brutal. The old man—Peak Element Lord Fire—was relentless, barking orders as I swung my wooden sword through Wind's Rebuke forms. That damn N'Nazmuz's curse, its 30 kilograms of pressure dragging at my limbs, made every move feel like wading through mud. My muscles burned, my stamina drained faster than a drunk's coin purse, but the curse's constant weight had turned me into a beast. I'd nearly clipped Goran's beard with a wild swing, earning a rare grunt of approval.
"You're stronger than I was at your age, kid," he'd said, eyes glinting with something like pride. "But you're still swinging like a blind Gromble. Focus."
The curse helped in other ways, too. When that Moonshade Squirrel had leapt at me during training, its claws raked my arm before I could dodge. The scratches stung like hell, but by the time I'd gotten to the tavern, they were already fading, the curse's passive healing kicking in as I rested. Didn't make the weight any less annoying, though.
Back in the tavern, Janko reached for the loaf. My heart did a little jig. "C'mon, you whiskered bastard," I muttered under my breath. The second his fingers closed around the bread, poof—a cloud of glowing Starbloom dust exploded, coating him in shimmering blue. The tavern roared with laughter as Janko flailed, looking like a pissed-off constellation. "Star-Cat now, eh?" I hollered, dodging the mug he hurled my way.
"Damn you, Killyaen!" Janko roared, shaking off the dust. "I'll skin you for this!"
"Gotta catch me first, Twinkle-Paws!" I shot back, vaulting over a table as he charged. The chase was on, and I was living for it.
Bera and Lila were still at it, their bickering cutting through the chaos.
"At least my chest doesn't block out the sun," Lila sneered, tossing a rag at Bera."And your ass doesn't need its own village plot," Bera fired back, catching the rag and throwing it right back.
I could've watched them snipe all day, but Janko was gaining, and I wasn't keen on testing my curse-enhanced healing against his fists.I darted outside, the cool night air hitting me as I wove through Opeka's dirt streets. My amulet gave a faint pulse, probably reacting to some stray Zenoite in the ground—Vuk had been yammering about a wave-carved minefield relic earlier, tying it to those "ancient ruins" in Legends of the Middle Sea. I shook it off. Ruins were for scholars, not pranksters. My destiny was right here, making Janko's life hell and keeping Bera and Lila on their toes.
Goran caught up with me later, his grizzled face stern. "You're pushing Janko too far, kid. He's not just a laughingstock—he's pissed. Watch your back." He handed me a waterskin, and I took a swig, feeling the curse's weight settle as I caught my breath. "And that amulet of yours… it's no trinket. Solspire might have answers."
I shrugged, wiping sweat from my brow. "Answers can wait. I've got a village to terrorize and two women fighting over who's got the better bait for me." Goran snorted, but I saw the worry in his eyes. He knew something about that amulet, something he wasn't saying.
Fine. Let him keep his secrets. I had a new prank to plan—maybe something with Vuk's old fishing nets and a bucket of crushed Firepetal seeds. Janko wouldn't know what hit him.As I headed back to the tavern, Bera's laugh echoed in my head, and Lila's smirk danced in my vision. Solspire, ruins, amulets—those could wait. Right now, I was Opeka's Supreme Elf, and this village was my playground.