After a few minutes of trailing behind the self-proclaimed security personnel (who honestly looked more like cosplaying bounty hunters than bodyguards), we finally reached the venue.
And sweet mother of foam horns—this was NOT what I expected.
All of the citizens from the faction's territory were here. Literally. I'm not even joking. Grandmas, warriors, drunk uncles, kids running around with plastic swords—it looked like someone combined Oktoberfest with a medieval rave.
The celebration sprawled across a huge cobblestone road, bathed in moonlight and littered with glowing lanterns, confetti explosions, and random bursts of fire magic from overly enthusiastic partygoers. It was like Mardi Gras met a fantasy fair and then had a baby with no concept of moderation.
The crowd roared when they saw me.
"AND HERE COMES THE STAR OF THE NIGHT!" Leo emerged from the crowd like a wrestling announcer, holding a wooden mug the size of a toddler.
He marched toward me, eyes twinkling with mischief, and shoved the mug into my hand. The stuff inside bubbled ominously.
"I didn't expect it to be this extravagant," I muttered, eyeing the drink like it might grow legs.
Leo slapped me on the back. "Underestimating the weight of being a faction leader already, huh? You're the most important dude here now, Bossman. This is the least we could do."
He motioned toward the crowd like he was unveiling a surprise. "C'mon. Everyone wants a piece of you."
I glanced at Rafaela, who was smiling brightly and tugging at my hand.
"Let's go, big bro Troy!" she chirped.
Deep breath. One down, two to go.
As we made our way through the mass of cheering people, some clapped and smiled, while others glared like they'd just bitten into a lemon—most likely bitter ex-challengers who tried to dethrone Leo and failed miserably.
Tables were scattered across the road, overflowing with drinks and food. Waitresses danced between guests, wielding trays like shields. One of them guided me toward the main event zone—basically a giant wooden table at the heart of the chaos.
Leo and Xin were already seated there, their mugs nearly empty (which meant they were just getting started). Two vacant chairs awaited us.
"I'm impressed," I said, settling into my seat. "How did you set this up so fast?"
Leo leaned back, raising his mug. "The moment our battle ended, Xin barked orders like a drill sergeant. Same thing happened when I beat him. I woke up in the middle of the street, bleeding out, wrapped in bed sheets, and someone was pouring beer down my throat like it was a healing potion."
He shuddered, like the memory physically hurt.
Xin chuckled darkly and handed Rafaela a goblet filled with bright orange liquid. "This one's for you, Little Missy."
Leo turned to me with a suspicious squint. "You haven't drunk yet. Don't tell me your people don't drink?"
"Right, right." I raised the mug and downed it. It tasted like someone mixed tree bark and burnt caramel, but hey—it had a kick.
Leo cheered. "That's what I'm talking about! Tonight, we drink until only one of us is standing!"
He pulled out a comically oversized jug, easily the size of a small barrel, and filled my mug again.
"We're basically signing our own death warrants," I muttered.
Leo bellowed, "Don't underestimate the stamina of a Summon! Even Xin can outdrink a bear!"
Xin just gave a lazy grin and chugged his mug like it was apple juice.
From there, everything devolved into pure, glorious chaos.
People started dancing to a band playing what I could only describe as medieval folk mixed with jungle beats. Some guests were riding literal goats. Someone set off a firework indoors. A conga line of beastfolk broke out. A drunk snake-lady belly-danced on a table and nearly strangled herself.
"That's the traditional dance of the Dagger-Tail tribe!" Leo cheered, clapping wildly.
I swear I saw a goblin attempt karaoke.
But what really got me was the diversity. Demi-humans, demons, and humans all laughing, eating, and drinking together like long-lost cousins at a dysfunctional family reunion.
"Demi-humans and humans," Xin said, watching the crowd. "This is the only place you'll see them living like this. Harmony. A rare sight."
I turned to him, sobering a little. "Why can't this be the norm everywhere? Clearly, it's possible."
Xin sighed, sipping his drink. "Because humans see us as lesser. Always have. They tried to erase us once... came close, too."
"That's... a lot to take in," I muttered.
"Don't worry. You're not alone in this mess."
Then, I remembered something.
"I've seen human slave shops around here," I said, turning to Leo. "Are those yours?"
Leo didn't even flinch. "Yep. Why? Looking to buy one?"
I raised an eyebrow and downed my booze. "Not exactly. Just curious why you'd sell humans in a place where they're clearly living peacefully with others. Doesn't add up."
Leo refilled my mug, his expression darkening. "None of the slaves are from this town. That's the number one rule—citizens are off-limits. We may not be saints, but we're not monsters."
He stared into his cup, voice dropping. "Every human in those cages? Murderers. Rapists. Slave traders. The filth who tortured demi-humans for fun. What we give them is mercy compared to what they dished out."
The bitterness in his voice hit hard.
"Don't waste your sympathy on them, Troy," he said, eyes hard. "Not one of them is innocent."
I nodded slowly. "I see."
He let out a deep breath, then slammed his mug down.
"NOW ENOUGH OF THAT DEPRESSING SHIT—SOMEONE CHALLENGE TROY TO A DRINKING DUEL!"
"AYYYYYY!!!" the crowd exploded.
A dwarf jumped onto the table, shouting, "I'LL GO FIRST!"
Rafaela giggled beside me as someone handed me a goblet the size of my head.
And just like that, I was caught in a drinking game, surrounded by madness, music, and monsters.
This might be my new normal.
God help me.