Abyssal Awakening-Chapter 1002: The Devil Of Mead

Alice paused. A strange feeling washed over her mind. As though... she had found a kindred spirit of some sort.

She felt Renna’s gaze. Not focused on her, but rather...

’No way...’ Alice thought to herself.

She moved her hand to the left...

Renna’s gaze shifted.

She moved it to the right...

Her eyes followed.

’F*cking hell, another alcoholic.’ Alyss blinked in disbelief. It wasn’t just a normal alcoholic either.

There were normal drinkers. And then there were competitive drinkers. Alice was part of the latter, and apparently so was Renna!

Right now, Renna’s duty should have been making sure Lab didn’t cause trouble in the city.

Yet despite that looming danger, her attention had been completely hijacked by...

Mead.

Alice thought about it for a moment. She glanced back at Renna, then slowly at the bottle in her hand.

The elf noticed Alice’s glances and tried her best to look composed. She forced herself to stare forward, but every now and then, her eyes would be drawn to the bottle.

Alice narrowed her eyes.

A smug grin formed on her lips as an idea took shape in her mind.

How often would she find someone who loved alcohol as much as her?

Not very often, and not a Lord on duty at that. In fact, Alice might even humour the idea of Renna beating her when it came to wanting a drink. After all, not even Alice would drink on the job when something dangerous could happen.

’Don’t torture the poor soul. She’s already having a hard time keeping herself composed.’ Alyss sighed.

’Aw, but where’s the fun in that? Wouldn’t it be a huge waste not to do anything when she’s exposing herself like this?’ Alice laughed as a devilish smile formed on her face.

Cayla was already giving Renna a silent prayer, hoping she could get through this tribulation.

Shaking the bottle slightly, Alice allowed the sloshing of the mead to reach Renna’s ears.

She brought the bottle to her lips and took a long... slow sip.

"Puwah~ Nothing like a bit of mead on a day like this. Though..." Alice pretended to make a face of displeasure.

"Hmm... this isn’t good enough."

Renna’s smile twitched.

’Not good enough!? You brat, I can smell the aroma from here! That’s top-grade mead, you ungrateful swine!!! You cur! Hand it over if you can’t enjoy such treasures!’ she screamed in her mind.

Veins bulged on the back of her hand as she held her arms behind her back.

Sealing the bottle, Alice tossed it into her pouch half-heartedly, enough to almost make Renna snap as her eyes turned bloodshot.

Looking away, she forced herself to calm down.

She imagined herself in a tavern... enjoying a nice drink without a worry in the world...

’Sh*t, that just makes me want to drink more!’ she cursed.

If there was a silver lining, it was that she could feel her heart calming down.

So long as she looked away, everything would be fine. It didn’t matter what she was looking at so long as she was distracted from the smell of alcohol. Paintings on the wall, beast parts being traded.

Eyes forward. If there was a time for her to show her resolve, it was now!

Renna took a deep breath. Her shoulders finally eased. The stress left her body as her discipline returned. The tension in her jaw softened, and she could focus on her duty once more.

She had resisted temptation time and time again. Temptation from the nobles. Temptation from the Abyss.

This was simply another trial. The temptation of alcohol. And like always, she would prevail-

*Sniff...

Renna noticed something lingering in the air.

A deep aroma.

It brushed against her nose, soft as a lady’s fingertips across bare skin. Not forceful nor did it scream for attention. Just the feeling of seduction.

The allure of beauty and temptation. It need not call your name for it already knew you would turn your head.

Like the moment a man felt something otherworldly pass by his shoulder and looked before he could stop himself. A passing smile. A single glance. A quiet wink from something far too beautiful to belong to the world. And just like that, his heart was gone before he even understood he had offered it.

Even though Renna was looking away, that aroma stole her attention. That split second was all it needed.

Her breath faltered.

"Would you like... a taste?" the devil whispered by her ear.

A bottle hovered before her.

Temptation made manifest.

Renna swallowed. Her throat felt painfully dry as her mind lingered on the aroma.

Before she could force out a refusal, the devil spoke again.

"Ayrian mead," Alice murmured, her voice soft as silk, each word slipping past Renna’s guard and settling deep into her soul. Where she was most vulnerable.

"Lost to time. Never recreated since the fall of that ancient nation buried deep within the Abyss."

Alice tilted the bottle slightly, letting the golden liquid catch the light cast down from above.

"Wouldn’t it be such a waste... to let something this rare go unappreciated?"

Renna trembled. A bead of sweat traced down the side of her temple.

She didn’t move. Didn’t dare to.

Her eyes were fixed on the bottle.

Her fingers twitched at her side.

’No.’

She clenched her hand.

’You are on duty.’

The aroma lingered, wrapping around her thoughts, slipping through every attempt at discipline she tried to enforce.

It was patient, persistent.

Every second she looked, Renna felt her resistance weaken. Every hesitation, the desire grew deeper.

Her throat tightened.

Dry... Oh so very dry.

’Just a single sip...’ The thought surfaced in her mind.

She tore her gaze away forcefully, crushing that thought.

’No.’

But the rejection was weak. A pitiful act of defiance. Her gaze flickered once more.

Back to the bottle.

Before she knew it, her finger traced its body. She froze.

She could still turn back. Pull her hand away and ignore. To salvage what remained of her discipline.

’This is ridiculous...’ She persuaded herself desperately but this time... she couldn’t pull her gaze away.

Her fingers finally wrapped around the bottle.

Something inside her disappeared.

Surrender.

Behind her, the devil’s smile widened.

Alice leaned back just slightly, giving her space.

A step back but never far.

For temptation need not drag its victims by the throat.

Sometimes it simply waits, smiling softly, as the sinner reaches out on her own.

And finally, Renna took the plunge. A single sip.

’It’s over.’ Alyss closed her eyes.

At last... Renna tasted Ayrian mead.

Warmth... radiant gold... it wasn’t just the sweetness. The depth of this flavour felt unfathomable. The kind that unfolded into a myriad of tastes even as you take a tiny sip. What was one taste became ten, then twenty. Each revealing a new side of the drink like a woman slowly undressing the layers.

Like a flower opening beneath moonlight to reveal a thousand hidden folds.

First came the honey. But not the crude kind they find on the surface. No, these were not the crude honey of the surface that is simple and eager to please.

No...

This was richer. Older. Dignified, even.

Honey aged through time until it became something more than a simple sweetness. What it carried was not merely flavour, nor the memory of an ingredient. It carried the time, patience, and devotion of everyone involved in its making. The careful harvest. The preservation. The waiting. It was a representation of that effort.

And beneath the honey was the wood.

Rare abyssal wood. The kind once used in old fermentation casks by those who truly understood how to draw beauty from the Abyss without letting it overpower everything else. Carefully chosen so that its presence never dominated but rather supplemented the drink.

Like dancers behind a radiant lead, the wood moved in perfect harmony with the honey. Graceful, restrained, never stealing the eye, yet impossible not to notice once understood.

Then came the floral undertone. So faint she nearly missed it.

Flowers that did not grow beneath proper sunlight. They survived in the harsh lands of the Abyss yet even so, they did not let that tear away their gentle nature.

The fragrance was delicate, elusive. Always on the edge of vanishing yet persisting through sheer tenacity of will. It lingered like a memory of something glimpsed once then never found again.

The trace of beauty that the mind couldn’t quite recall.

After the flowers came the fruit. Oh how could she miss the fruit?

Like the rest of the drink, it didn’t overpower. It was the stage of which the dancers pranced upon.

Fruit ripened in the light of the Abyss. The sort of flavour that represented a sensation rather than a traditional taste. Like the moment someone asks what one thought of when picturing the season of spring.

A taste of the fruit that can no longer be found easily in the modern age. That faint sharpness beneath its sweetness.

To prevent the drink from becoming too soft, too indulgent.

And yet, despite all of this, the drink was far from done. The stage had already been set. The actors were all in place. Honey, wood, fruit. Each one playing its role to perfection.

What more was there left to reveal?

Ah~ the lighting.

The final touch.

The last, delicate hand that transformed the scene into something unforgettable.

Above everything else was a cool brightness. Clear, subtle... like moonlight pouring down on a gentle lake. It illuminated the scene, bathing in its lunar glow. It highlighted the details and allowed a break.

As though, after the performance had unfolded in all its perfection, the world itself stepped back to let the observer take it in.

Like a man standing at the edge of something beautiful, completely enraptured, unable to look away.

The moonlight falls.

He takes a deep breath.

Not because he needed air but because he was lost in the moment.

To capture everything in his eyes, to bask in that afterglow after seeing something truly spectacular.

To engrave everything into his memories. Every detail, every sensation. So that even after the performance has long ended...

He will still long for the moment he first sat down at the beginning. The feeling of what it felt like to stand in the audience.

The devil of mead has won.