The soldiers gather at The Illustrious Mop inn, a modest and cozy tavern located within the borders of the third wall, right by the West exit. It is a regular haunt for weary travelers seeking an affordable rest, and also the favorite spot for the bulk of the army.
A wide stone fireplace fills the tavern with light and heat, crowned by a pair of giant sea serpent horns—easy to recognize by their emerald color and spiral design, perfect for piercing the hulls of ships.
"To Marcus, the unexpected hero!" Balto exclaims, raising a mug overflowing with thick mead.
"To Marcus!" the rest of the troop cheers, raising their mugs as well.
Marcus drinks with them, flashing modest smiles to the comrades who come over to congratulate him. The story spread like wildfire—first as a rumor, then as absolute certainty when Captain Lynel granted the squads a leave and paid for a full day's worth of drinks at the bar to boot.
Marcus became a minor local hero, and his doorstep filled with gift baskets and food from people wanting to curry favor with the army's newest rising star.
With the story confirmed, exaggerations soon surfaced about how Marcus managed to save two captains from an attack by a dark elf... No, 10 elves! Or maybe 50 Underdark worms armed to the teeth!
True or false, no one bothered to find out the real story, despite Marcus insisting that Axiel did most of the work. The soldiers were just happy drinking and joking among themselves, especially after such difficult days.
Marcus accepts his new fame with a bitter aftertaste in his throat. Not only because he thinks Axiel deserves more credit, but because there is a behind-the-scenes force he can't ignore. He sets his mug on the table and slips his hand under his shirt collar, grabbing the handkerchief and examining it with a lump in his throat—a mix of fear and awe.
He has no proof, but no doubts either. Marcus believes the Dungeon Core guided him somehow to help the captains. First it saves his family, and now it showers him in glory. Marcus swallows hard; he doesn't quite know what to think or how to react, but he feels he owes the crystal a great deal.
"How can you be so deep in thought with the pretty waitresses keeping such a close eye on you?" Balto asks with a grin.
Marcus looks up and blinks in confusion; he clearly didn't even hear him. Balto assumes Marcus is worried and lowers his voice to a whisper.
"If it's about the warning, don't sweat it. No one knows."
"We're a vault," Pit says from beside him, tipping back his fifth mug of beer.
Harris nods to show his support, though he's the quietest of the group.
By "the warning," Balto means a new order handed down by the king. The troops know Claus was wounded, though they don't know the exact details, and many assume the strongest man in the kingdom will return to the front lines in a few days. No one is aware of the coma, and only Marcus, who was present when the First Captain collapsed, recognizes how grave the situation is.
If the tragedy had happened before meeting the core, Marcus would be terrified for the kingdom's future. But now, knowing they have the crystal's power on their side...
Marcus tucks the handkerchief back into place and widens his smile.
"It's nothing. Drink up, life is short!"
"When you're born and when you die!" Pit exclaims with his booming bell-like voice.
"Yeah, sure, drink too much and your sister will murder you," Balto says, giving Marcus a slap on the back.
Between jokes and casual chatter, the candles in the chandeliers burn down. The overall mood is light, though every now and then Marcus and his group discuss the changes going on at work.
"Looks like Captain Hilda is moving," Balto comments. "Wait, the brat knows more about it."
"More like changing rooms than moving. She's heading down to the basement... I had to help carry the bed," Harris reports.
"The basement, wow... Looks like she got put in charge of the big project," Balto mutters as he takes a sip of his mead, getting foam on his lips that he then wipes away with his arm. "Interesting times are coming for the kingdom."
Marcus's lips twist into a bitter grimace. He knows Hilda has a rocky relationship with the Dungeon Core. Even so, he hopes those interesting times ahead turn out positive for the people.
The bar door is shoved open by a strong hand, nearly ripped off its hinges. The mood in the bar goes quiet, and eyes dart toward the new figure. He is a tall, strong, dark-skinned man with a bare chest and shoulders draped in a bear-skin cloak. Around his neck hangs a necklace with a concave silver plate bearing an engraved 'X' in the center. The man isn't alone; he's accompanied by three companions, all women: a sorceress, a priestess, and an archer, each wearing an outfit more revealing than the last, the latter wearing a steel choker that marks her as a slave. It's blatantly obvious this is the guy's harem.
A Silver-ranked adventurer.
The soldiers' moods and expressions darken. Despite the respect they have for Hilda, they can't ignore the friction and rivalry they feel toward adventurers. Judging by the guy's wide grin, it's obvious he's looking for trouble.
"I'm looking for the soldier who managed to save the necks of two captains! Come on, step forward if you've got the guts!"