Abyss System The Rise of the Lord-Chapter 67 shoyu

Zaber hid the sword under the bed.

He did so without haste—as if the sword was accustomed to being concealed from any prying eyes. The shadows beneath the bed were thick, mingled with the scent of dust and the sharp aroma of old wood.

Rising from his position,

He picked up the beehive that stood on the table.

The hive felt light in his hand—as though it were empty inside. His fingers began to glow black, channeling mana. Dark light threaded across the surface of the hive, seeping along the cracks. The flow of mana lasted exactly three seconds. Zaber counted precisely. He stopped just before the fourth second began.

Standing by the bed, he looked at the viscous substance and moved his lips.

"I have other plans for you," he said in a low voice.

Then, without looking back, he left the room.

The hallway was narrow. The wooden floor creaked beneath as if someone else were walking below. Zaber descended the stairs. As he went down, the smells of food grew stronger—warm bread and meat sizzling in fat.

Downstairs, he turned to the innkeeper standing behind the counter.

The woman was middle-aged, her face weary, yet her eyes held the softness accustomed to hospitality.

"Where is the merchants’ guild located?" Zaber asked.

The keeper smiled in response. Her voice was gentle, practiced.

"The merchants’ guild is a bit farther, sir. It is located in the city center. The adventurers’ guild is right beside it."

Zaber stared at her for a moment. His gaze was not cold.

"Thank you, madam," he said.

Then he turned toward the door and began walking. Outside the door, the noise of the city could be heard—wagon wheels rumbling, people talking, the distant sound of bells.

The keeper spoke hurriedly.

"Sir, I have a city map!" she said, her voice rising slightly.

Zaber paused. With one foot already outside, he looked back.

"Really?" he said.

The keeper smiled hesitantly. She seemed to sense something in Zaber’s gaze, yet she continued.

"Yes, sir. It costs only three silver."

She pulled open a drawer in the counter. The wood rattled as it opened. From inside, she took out a map folded several times, its edges somewhat worn. The paper was yellowed, corners frayed, but the markings were still clear. The keeper carefully placed the map on the counter.

Zaber returned. Approaching the counter, he took the map. With his other hand, he placed three silver coins in its place. The coins clinked lightly on the wood.

He unfolded the rolled map.

The city’s layout was clearly depicted: winding roads, narrow streets, various shops and guilds marked. Small symbols indicated certain places—a market, workshops, the adventurers’ headquarters. On one edge was a moderately sized palace, surrounded by a dense cluster of wealthy homes.

Zaber examined the map carefully. His eyes moved quickly along the paths, as if he already knew the city by heart. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips. Then he rolled the map again and slipped it into his inner pocket.

He stepped outside.

The sun was high. Dust in the street seemed to hang in the air; the heat made breathing difficult. There were many people, yet each was occupied with their own affairs. Some haggled, others sought shade.

"Grrrruuuu!"

Hearing the sound, Zaber stopped. He immediately realized it was not from outside—it came from within himself. He grasped his stomach and looked at the sky. The sun was directly overhead. Lunchtime had long passed.

"I forgot to eat last night too... and again today," he said to himself.

He recalled the tavern he had seen on the map. Turning right from the street, then two more turns, and he should arrive. Zaber set off. There was no haste in his steps.

Zaber stopped in front of the tavern door. His eyes fell on the large glasses filled with wine lined up on the counter beside the door, clinking against one another. The reddish liquid inside glistened in the light, droplets seeming to spill over the rims. From within came laughter, curses, and the ringing of glasses.

Zaber stared at the counter for a moment.

Do they drink here or eat? he wondered inwardly, then entered without further hesitation.

Inside was dim, lit by firelight. Torches fixed to the walls flickered yellow, spreading smoke and warmth throughout the room. Round wooden tables were scattered irregularly, each surrounded by four low stools without backs. There were about ten tables, nearly all occupied. Drunken men and women sat mixed together; some had leaned their weapons against the tables, others laughed loudly or argued. A few waitresses hurried back and forth, carrying food and drink, barely keeping up with the noisy crowd.

Zaber cast a cold glance around and began searching for an empty table. He passed several—one where drunkenness had reached its peak, another where a fight seemed one step away. Finally, spotting an uncleared empty table, he walked over and sat without paying attention to anyone.

Looking around, he turned to the girl in an apron serving the next table.

"Bring me something," he said.

The girl paused for a moment upon seeing Zaber. His cold and indifferent gaze made her instinctively alert. She quickly handed four wines to their owners, then approached Zaber.

Smiling broadly:

"What would you like, sir? There’s a twenty percent discount on our wines right now," she said.

Zaber gestured to the table with his hand.

"Clean this first, then bring a simple meal," he said.

The waitress nodded lightly.

"Very well, sir. It will be ready in ten minutes," she said and began clearing the table quickly.

Zaber sat in silence, gazing at the table. The conversations around him were loud, laughter and shouts blending together. But the noise did not disturb Zaber—as if he were not in the place, but alone within his own thoughts.

A short while later, the waitress returned with a tray carrying soup and a loaf of bread. There was also wine on the tray. As she placed the food on the table and was about to set down the wine, Zaber stopped her hand.

"I don’t drink. Bring water," he said.

The waitress stared in surprise for a moment.

"Very well, sir," she said, placing the wine back on the tray and returning.

Zaber had nearly finished eating. At that moment, a beastkin—a catgirl—sat at his table without asking. Behind her, a male catkin took a seat beside her. Zaber paid no attention and continued eating his soup.

The catgirl had orange hair; her yellow eyes gleamed in the firelight. She raised her hand and shouted.

"Two wines and food!"

Then she looked at her companion, and afterward at Zaber.

With enthusiasm, the catgirl turned to Zaber.

"My name is Shoyu. What’s yours?" she said.

Zaber replied indifferently.

"Give me a reason to tell you my name," he said.

Shoyu frowned in displeasure.

"I told you my name and asked. If you don’t tell me, isn’t that disrespectful?"

Zaber looked at Shoyu and slowly repeated.

"Respect?"

Then, growing serious, his voice grew even colder.

"You sat beside me without asking. That is disrespectful to me. Who are you to demand respect from me?"

Shoyu suddenly became serious. The previous laughter and light tone vanished in an instant; her catlike playfulness was replaced by a cold, sharp gaze. Her yellow eyes fixed on Zaber, as if peering deep inside him.

"Who are you to ask who I am?" she said in a low but sharp tone.

Zaber did not hesitate for a moment. His face did not change—neither smiling nor angry. His voice was emotionless, as if echoing in an empty room.

"No one."

The answer struck Shoyu like an unexpected blow. She felt as though she had lost her footing for a moment, then twisted her lips and laughed mockingly.

"No one??" she said, unable to suppress her laughter. "Don’t jump higher than your head, haha!"

A few guests nearby glanced over, but the noise continued unabated.

Zaber took a deep breath and composed himself. Something stirred within him, but he did not show it on his face. He slowly rose. His movement was calm, yet pressure could be felt.

"If you were worth jumping for," he said coolly, "I would jump higher than your head."

The words stopped Shoyu’s laughter. She looked surprised, frowning.

"Not worth it?" she said, raising her voice slightly. "Do you want to die, human?"

Zaber did not even look back. As if the words did not concern him at all, he walked toward the waitress. Raising one hand, he made a casual gesture as if scratching his ear indifferently.

"You are not the one who can fulfill my wish," he said as he walked away.

The waitress was carrying wine. She stopped upon seeing Zaber.

Zaber gestured to his table.

"How much do I owe?"

"Water is free, the soup is ten copper, the bread six copper, sir," she said in her usual calm tone.

Zaber took one silver and one copper from his pocket and pressed them into the waitress’s hand. Without another word, he headed for the door.

At that moment, Shoyu hurried from behind, closing in on Zaber and grabbing his shoulder firmly to stop him. Her face was flushed; rage flashed in her eyes.

"How dare you ignore me?!" she said angrily.

Shoyu’s companion approached from behind her. He appeared calmer, glancing around anxiously and speaking in a low voice.

"Miss, please don’t cause trouble. Your father will be angry."

Shoyu glanced at Zaber, then at her companion. She could not hide her hesitation.

Zaber finally stopped. Slowly turning, he fixed his cold gaze on Shoyu. His voice was low, yet commanding.

"Listen to him, little girl."

With those words, he pushed Shoyu’s hand away and continued on his way. He did not look back.

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