You dream of a former partner.

Glory.

Riches.

Power.

For adventurers and explorers, those are the basic motivations driving people to their ****. It doesn't matter if they survive one ruin or dungeon because if they succeed, they will surely move on to other dangers of the world. The only way to stop playing with **** is to stop being an adventurer. For many newcomers, that becomes the best option after they have a near-**** experience.

For some reason though, you didn't quit while you can. Much of it is because you were weaned into it by your father who played with **** so much. That was all past though since he died of old age. As far as you could see, your father was the exception and at one point, you thought you could be the exception too and die of old age.

Your former partner, Aila, an elf with a tomboy personality was a reminder that there are no solid exceptions...only luck.

"You seem kind of downtrodden there. What's on your mind?"

You blink a couple times, waking to the voice of your partner.

You find yourself in a pub filled with the lively chatter of people and the sounds of a fiddle boosting the celebratory mood. The entire wooden interior was filled with the smell of **** and the clinking of mugs only validated that.

Focusing on the beauty in front of you who showed no signs of intoxication thanks to her strong resistance to ****, shared by a lot of her people, you provide a reassuring smile and raise your mug. You find nothing wrong about the sudden setting and you figure that it's the **** that's affecting you.

"Nothing. Just thinking about our next job, I suppose."

Aila grins and clashes her mug with your raised one.

"It's best not to think. We're better off drinking any worries away!"

She pulls her mug to her mouth and drinks with strong gulps without a care in the world. You didn't drink along with her as you watched her features, almost as if you were seeing her for the first time.

Her blond hair flows nicely around her pointed ears which then ends to her shoulders. As she swigs, you see her generous chest move up and down in happy movements, not completely contained within her leather jacket.

As soon as she stops drinking, you quickly take a swig since it would be a bit disrespectful not to drink in sync after clinking together some mugs. You somehow manage to match her dropping of the mug on the table. It gives off a satisfying knock together.

"Ah, I can never get enough of this kind of beer!" she gasps in content, before sighing, "...still, I feel a lot more clear-headed than I want. I envy you humans sometimes with your low tolerance for ****."

You raise an eyebrow and chuckle. "That's a weakness, not a strength."

"Not if you want to forget your problems! Argh, I can't forget how we got tricked into buying that dungeon map! If I see that bastard merchant again, I'll rip his bushy eyebrows off for not seeing straight!"

You smile. "Oddly specific there."

"Because that's the only thing I can remember! Whoa!"

She leaned forward in her rage and almost slipped off the table as she slid her arms away too fast. You watch with amusement and come to wonder whether she's as clear-headed as she claims. Then again, she's always had a temper and grudge against those who try to take advantage of her. Being sober or not wouldn't change a thing in that regard.

Speaking of which...

"Oh ho! Yer better be careful there, missy. A fine lass like you shouldn't let yourself get hurt!"

A rather unshaven man who was leaving the pub for the night happens to catch her before she falls off. He gave his best charming grin with a tooth missing from his front teeth. Despite the ill complexion of this regular drunkard, your eyes are specifically drawn to the man's hands which also "happen" to have caught the right side of her chest.

Casually, you take a sip from your mug, feeling sorry for him. Anyone who is brazen enough to try that cheap feel tactic has clearly underestimated women. You know from past experience what is going to happen.

As the drunkard tries to take his leave with tipsy movement, Aila captures the hand on her side and traps it, causing the man to fumble a little. He turns around, confused.

"Eh...what?"

With a piercing gaze, the elf woman turned her head towards the groper with a dark delighted smile.

"How wonderful...someone to let me vent my rage!"

"H-huh!?"

You sigh. "Aila, calm down. Just let it-"

Aila doesn't hear you nor does she care. She stands up from the wooden stool and kicks it away from behind her. Then, she pulls the man's hand and reaches farther in to capture his arm at her underarm. With his momentum being carried forward in a stumbling manner, she reaches for the back of his neckline, then tightens her grip.

In one resounding noise that deafened the chatter and music of the pub, Aila slams the drunkard's head into the wooden table causing even some splinters to break away and fall to the ground.

Not able to understand or recover from the head bash, Aila followed up by pulling her shoulder back and keeping the drunkard's head on the table. The confused man now screamed as certain crackling noises could be heard from his arm as it was being strained by the elf's lock.

"Hey there! Did you know we were made a fool of earlier before?" Aila asked the panicking man, not expecting a response. At this moment, you could only slap your hand over your eyes and drink, trying to forget your partner's actions this time.

She continues as she lowers her head closer to her ears while keeping his arm as outstretched as possible. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice though..."

Wrapping her hand on the man's biceps with the same arm that she's currently pinning him with, she dug into the muscles and then twisted causing greater shouts but now it came along with pleas as the man realizes his errors.

"S-sorry! I didn't mean ere! I swear-argh!"

Aila clicks her tongue, not believing a word as she heard it plenty of times. Her pull grows tighter.

"Well, shame on you still."

She shows enough restraint to let go of his arm and neck but delivers a quick kick to his chest with her knee which causes the man to be thrown off the table and onto the ground. If the sound of the head bashing into the table wasn't loud enough, then the man's weight against the floor should have caused an earful.

Indeed, everyone flinched as they heard the cracks of the wood from the resultant fall. After a few seconds, even the downed drunkard didn't seem to twitch as he was knocked out cold.

Aila provides a satisfied breath while you sigh in embarrassment, shaking your head sadly.

The elf woman notices the stares of everyone and silence, then frowns as she calls out to the room. "Well?! Show's over people! There's been plenty worse in this pub, hasn't there?"

Everyone quickly looked away, some cleared their throat. It takes a bit, but even the fiddler starts playing the music. The atmosphere somehow livens again but with an air of uncertainty raised by the patrons. The staff of the pub swiftly moves to slide the **** drunkard off the premises as quietly as possible, likely out of fear of the strong elf woman.

Aila sits back in her chair and hums like a giddy girl. "Ah, much better wouldn't you say?"

"You've seriously got to work on your temper, Aila," you sigh again and try to drink to forget your partner's behavior.

Aila chuckles. "Ha! Didn't I tell you to drink your worries away?"

"My previous worries are gone. You've become my new worries as of just a few seconds ago," you state flatly.

Aila only chuckles further. Despite the crude and unforgiving attitude of an otherwise beautiful elf, you smile a little, staring into the table. Somehow this whole feeling with this woman is nostalgic. Shouldn't it be...

As you think, the pub deafens once more. You realize you've been in thought and raise your head only to see that the entirety of the pub is vacated. Not even your partner is with you and the orange glow that lightened the area had been dulled.

You realize it with a sad smile. The only thing that isn't taken away is your mug which seemed to have refilled itself. You take a swig and plop it on the table, but the sound isn't as good as it was with two people slamming it down.

"I need to wake up now, don't I?" you ask yourself.

Although you say that, you don't feel a sense of control within this dream of yours. Unsure of what to do, you get up from the table and leave the pub. From the outside, you see a small town made up of wood and bricks, but there is not a peep or sight of anyone except...

"Well, I'll admit I did not plan for this when I entered your dreams. A bit of a turn-off, too."

Next to you was the succubus Seriath who is completely naked as she leans against the wooden door frame of the pub entrance. Her large chest is compressed while she crosses her arms and you get the feeling that she has been watching from afar this whole time.

You stare at her, feeling completely empty. You aren't sure what to do but whatever happens, you couldn't let yourself fall into a deep well of regret over the memories of the past. Remembering the "test" with Janaeya, you feel like you should be angry with the succubus instead but it doesn't come to you.

In the end, you just sigh.

"It...doesn't matter."

Seriath curls her lips, feeling sympathetic to your feelings which she could easily feel thanks to your bond with her. An idea springs to her head after a moment of carefully studying you.

She leans closer and wraps her arms around your back, then rests her red hair against your chest. You don't resist her attempts to comfort you.

"Well, I can at least wash away your worries for now. You've earned that at least."

The scenery changes in an instant, then you lie naked in a clean bed inside some kind of square room at an inn. A candle is lit on all four walls giving off a homely feeling.