The Black Stone Tavern was a cauldron of chaos, its air thick with ale, sweat, and the echo of my latest triumph—the Demonic Rhino prank that left Janko glued, slipping, and glowing like a humiliated moozze. I swaggered in, my Zenoite swords strapped to my hips, their weight a reminder of Marko's gift and Goran's faith. My amulet pulsed faintly, nagging like Mima's lectures, but I ignored it. The Supreme Elf had a stage to command, and Bera's curves were my spotlight.
Janko was at a corner table, his whiskers still faintly glowing from my Demonic Rhino prank, plotting revenge with a smirk that screamed trouble. I'd heard whispers of his "Feather Fiasco" plan—rigging a barrel of Firepetal-dyed chicken feathers to dump on me when I entered. Amateur. I'd spotted his clumsy setup above the door, feathers peeking like a bad haircut, and slipped in through the back, swapping the barrel's trigger with a rope tied to his chair. When he stood to gloat, the barrel tipped, dousing him in a neon-pink feather storm. The tavern erupted, chanting "Feather Cat!" as Janko sputtered, looking like a furious, plucked Gromble. "You'll regret this, wretch!" he snarled, shaking off feathers, but I just grinned, tossing a "Nice plumage, Whiskers!" his way.
My victory lap was short. Lila stormed over, her Earth Qi rumbling like an Ironvale quake, her thighs flexing in a way that made my pervert's heart race. "You're a shameless flirt, Killyaen," she snapped, eyes blazing. "Toying with Bera, winking at me—what's your game, Supreme Idiot?" Her words stung, but her flushed cheeks betrayed something else—jealousy, maybe that pull she'd wrestled with last night. I leaned in, smirking. "No game, earth queen. Just spreading the Supreme Elf's charm. You want a piece, I'm all yours." Her fist clenched, Earth Qi crackling, and for a second, I thought she'd deck me.
Bera swooped in, her Fire Qi flaring like a festival torch, her apron hugging curves that could melt Zenoite. "Easy, Lila," she purred, slinging an arm around me, her chest brushing my shoulder. "Killy's just a pervert with a big mouth. If you want him, you'll have to fight me for it." Her wink was pure mischief, and my supreme sword twitched at the thought of them wrestling over me. Lila's glare could've shattered stone. "He's not worth it," she huffed, but her Earth Qi sent a tremor through the floor as she stalked off, leaving me grinning like a Shadow Panther with a fresh kill.
I wasn't done with Janko. His Feather Fiasco demanded payback, so I smeared the handle of his ale mug with Gromble smola, a sticky resin that'd trap his hand like a Zenoite vice. When he grabbed it, his fingers fused to the handle, and he yanked, flailing as the mug refused to budge. His muffled curses sparked roars of laughter as he waved the mug like a club, feathers still clinging to his tunic. I sauntered over, twirling a Zenoite sword. "Taste the Supreme Elf's justice, Feather Cat," I taunted, dodging his wild swing. His eyes burned with hate, and I knew this feud was far from over. The tavern buzzed with my legend—Demonic Rhino, Feather Fiasco, now Sticky Whiskers. A merchant at the bar, his Crestmoore accent thick, muttered about "Solspire's lost altars," and my amulet pulsed harder, but Bera's hips were a better mystery.
Goran's training that afternoon pushed me to the brink. Under Opeka's gnarled oaks, I swung my Zenoite swords, blending Wind's Rebuke with Thunder's Edge, the blades singing as they carved a boulder in half. The curse's 30-kilogram weight dragged my steps, sapping stamina, but my arms, forged by months of strain, burned with power. Goran's Fire Qi blazed as he parried, his blade nicked from my strikes, his eyes sharp with focus. The amulet throbbed when he mentioned Solspire, tying to that merchant's altar talk, and I cursed under my breath—destiny could shove it; I had pranks to pull and curves to chase.
Back at the tavern, Bera leaned over the counter, her chest a vision that could topple empires. "Heard you schooled Janko again, Killy," she teased, Fire Qi sparking. "Keep that up, and I might reward you." I grinned, my eyes locked on her. "Name the prize, fire queen, and I'll claim it." She laughed, tossing her hair, but Lila's scowl from a nearby table sent a chill. Her Earth Qi hummed, her fists tight, and I knew she was itching to outshine Bera. I winked at her, fueling the fire, and the tavern hummed with tension.
I flipped through a dusty book, Tales of Azurion, its pages hinting at Solspire's "altars of old gods" and Middle Sea storms. My amulet pulsed, urging me toward something bigger, but I slammed the book shut. Janko slunk out, feathers clinging to his tunic, the mug still stuck to his hand, his glare promising vengeance. "Sleep light, wretch," he hissed, and I tossed back, "Dream of feathers, Whiskers!" The crowd roared, my Zenoite swords gleamed, and Bera's smirk lit my blood. Solspire's altars could wait—the Supreme Elf's war was in Opeka, and I was winning.