The Snake God with SSS Rank Evolution System

Adam’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of recognition passing through them as he processed the newcomer’s words. He set the mug down slowly.

”Hmm? You want to join us?”

Azrynn’s yellow eyes sharpened, her hand drifting instinctively toward her bow. But Adam’s subtle gesture stilled her movement.

The wolf beastkin let out a low, rumbling chuckle, his tail swaying lazily behind him as he pulled out a chair and settled into it without waiting for an invitation. His voice was rough, but carried an edge of genuine curiosity.

”You two are an interesting pair. A horned demon, and an elf I’ve never seen before. You don’t exactly blend in.”

Adam’s lips curved into a faint, guarded smile, his crimson eyes studying the beastkin with calm assessment.

”We’re not trying to blend in.”

The wolf beastkin let out a short, sharp laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement.

”I can see that. So... what brings a pair like you to a place like this? Looking for work? Or just passing through?”

Adam’s fingers traced the rim of his mug, his voice light and unhurried.

”Just passing through. My friend here needed arrows, and the blacksmiths in this city are... limited.”

The wolf beastkin’s ears twitched, his head tilting with interest. He studied Adam for a moment longer, then nodded slowly, a flicker of understanding crossing his features.

”Ah. So you’re the ones Lady Selena mentioned. I didn’t expect you to visit my tavern.” He leaned back, a slow grin spreading across his face. ”Myrta never seems to run out of surprises.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of caution passing through them.

”Your tavern? I didn’t realize this place had an owner.”

The wolf beastkin’s grin widened, a note of pride creeping into his rough voice.

”Garrick Blackmane. I’ve owned this establishment for over a decade. It’s seen better days, but it’s still standing—which is more than I can say for most of this city.” He gestured toward Adam’s mug. ”The ale’s on the house tonight. Consider it a welcome.”

Adam’s guard didn’t drop, but he inclined his head slightly, a faint, respectful smile crossing his face.

”Appreciated.”

Adam took a slow sip of his beer, letting the warmth settle in his chest before he spoke again.

”So, Garrick. You’ve been running this place for over a decade. You must have seen a lot of changes in this city.”

Garrick let out a low, rumbling laugh, his tail swaying behind him as he leaned back in his chair. ”Changes? That’s one way to put it. I’ve seen this city rise, fall, and rise again—only to get knocked down by a dragon.” His yellow eyes gleamed with amusement. ”Speaking of which... you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Adam’s expression remained perfectly neutral, his voice carrying a note of casual dismissal.

”I’ve heard stories. But you know how rumors are—they grow bigger with each telling.”

Garrick’s grin widened, a flicker of knowing passing through his eyes. ”Rumors. Right.” He let out a short, sharp laugh, shaking his head. ”Well, whoever that dragon was, they certainly left their mark on this place. Half the city’s still in ruins, and the other half’s still trying to figure out what hit them.”

Azrynn’s voice came out quiet, cautious, her yellow eyes fixed on Garrick’s face.

”You seem... remarkably calm about it. Most people would be angry.”

Garrick shrugged, his massive shoulders rolling with the motion. ”Anger won’t rebuild a city. And besides—” His gaze shifted to Adam, sharp and appraising. ”—I’ve learned that holding grudges against forces you can’t control is a waste of energy. Better to adapt. Survive. And maybe, if you’re lucky, profit from the chaos.”

Adam’s lips curved into a faint, approving smile.

”That’s a practical way of looking at things.”

Garrick let out a low, rumbling chuckle, his tail swaying with amusement. ”Practicality’s kept me alive this long.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. ”So... this blacksmith you mentioned. Hilt, right? I heard she’s been struggling to get back on her feet since the attack. If you’re planning to work with her, you might want to be careful. She’s got a sharp tongue and a long memory.”

Adam’s voice carried a note of dry amusement.

”I’ve already experienced both.”

Garrick’s laugh boomed through the tavern, drawing a few glances from nearby patrons. ”Ha! I can tell.” He shook his head, still chuckling. ”Well, if you need anything else while you’re in Myrta, don’t hesitate to ask. I know this city’s secrets better than most.”

Adam inclined his head, a faint, respectful smile crossing his face.

”I’ll keep that in mind.”

Garrick rose from his chair, his massive frame unfolding with surprising grace. He clapped a heavy hand on Adam’s shoulder, his voice carrying a note of genuine warmth.

”Enjoy the ale. And if you ever decide to settle down, there’s always room for a man with a dragon’s spirit in this city.”

He turned and walked away, his footsteps heavy but unhurried, disappearing into the crowd of patrons.

Azrynn let out a slow breath, her yellow eyes fixed on Garrick’s retreating form. Her voice came out quiet, wary.

”He seems... friendly. But I don’t trust him.”

Adam took another sip of his ale, his voice calm, measured.

”Neither do I. But he’s useful. And we get free beer.”

Azrynn’s gaze shifted to him, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

”Do you think he knows who we really are?”

Adam’s lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile.

”Probably not. But he’s smart enough to suspect. And smart enough to know when to keep his mouth shut.”

Azrynn’s brow furrowed as she stared into her mug, her voice carrying a note of quiet contemplation.

”But wait... shouldn’t they be blaming the merchant instead? That merchant was the one who started all of this. He was the one who sacrificed people, who almost destroyed the city from the inside. Why do they only talk about the dragon?”

Adam leaned back in his chair, his crimson eyes thoughtful as he swirled the beer in his mug.

”It’s easier to blame the dragon,” he said quietly. ”People don’t like admitting they were betrayed by someone they trusted. Croft gave them food, protection, hope—he was their lifeline. Accepting that he was the one who orchestrated their suffering means accepting that they were fools. That everything they believed was a lie.”

He took a sip of his beer, his voice dropping lower.

”So they focus on the dragon instead. A monster from outside their world, something they can’t understand or control. It’s easier to hate something that doesn’t remind them of their own blindness.”

Azrynn’s yellow eyes softened with understanding. Her voice came out quieter, almost sad.

”So they’re protecting themselves. From the truth.”

Adam nodded slowly, his gaze drifting toward the window, where the ruins of Kaelthar stretched beneath the pale grey sky.

”Fear does strange things to people. It makes them forget. It makes them lie to themselves. And sometimes...” He paused, his voice carrying a note of bitter resignation. ”...it makes them blind to the monsters standing right in front of them.”

Azrynn was silent for a long moment. Then she lifted her mug, a faint, wry smile crossing her face.

”Then I suppose we’ll just have to be better than them. We’ll face the truth, even when it hurts.”

Adam’s lips curved into a faint, approving smile. He raised his mug in a slow, deliberate toast.

”To facing the truth, then.”