Amukelo: The Burdened Path

Chapter 56: Planning The Future
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Chapter 56 - Planning The Future

As they waited for their meals, the atmosphere around the table was light, yet there was an undeniable weight lingering from the journey they had just completed. Bao leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms slightly. "It's good to rest for a bit after such a long journey."

Pao, sitting beside her, brightened up at the thought. "Yeah, and I can't wait to dive into more grimoires." She clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Finally, I can study without worrying about getting attacked by some monster or losing all my mana before I even get to read a single page."

Idin smirked but exhaled shortly afterward. "Yeah, well, this trip was way too close for comfort. We were lucky. If I'm being honest, if not for you, Amukelo, we probably wouldn't have made it past either the moths or the landwyrm. Not even mentioning when you saved Pao."

This content is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Amukelo felt the instinctive urge to brush it off, to say something about how anyone would have done the same, but he remembered Bral's words from before. He swallowed that response, choosing instead to nod. "I'm happy that I met you guys. I probably would still be wandering the wilderness if not for your guidance."

Bao sighed, nodding as well. "Yeah, it was way too close. And it's not even like we traveled through the worst areas of Elandria. If we plan on going further next time, we need to make sure we're stronger."

Bral, who had been sitting relaxed with his arms crossed, spoke next. "Exactly. Even with Amukelo joining us, we were lucky that the landwyrm wasn't hungry. If it had been, we'd be dead. It was in much better condition than us when it left."

Pao, tapping her fingers against the wooden table, asked the inevitable question. "So, what's the plan then?"

Bao shifted her gaze between the others. "Like I said, we should stay here for longer. Get stronger. Make sure that next time, we won't just survive, we'll dominate whatever comes our way."

Idin nodded but frowned slightly as he rubbed his chin. "That's the obvious thing, sure. But how do you suggest we do that? I mean, what would be the deciding point where we say, 'Okay, we're strong enough, let's go'? What's the mark?"

A smirk crept onto Bral's face as he leaned forward, his fingers drumming against the table before he finally said, "What about becoming a gold-rank guild?"

Silence followed immediately.

Bao, Pao, and Idin all turned to him with serious expressions, their gazes locked on Bral as if he had just proposed something monumental. Amukelo, however, was left in the dark. He looked at their faces, noticing how the mood had shifted instantly. Gold-rank guild? He had no idea what that meant, but whatever it was, it was clearly something significant.

The air grew heavier as the others processed Bral's words. Amukelo glanced between them, unsure of what exactly they were thinking. Was it shock? Hesitation? Determination? He couldn't tell, but he could feel the weight of it.

Whatever Bral just suggested, it wasn't small.

Idin exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You do realize that we're a guild of only four people, right? Well, soon five." He added as he glanced at Amukelo, "But anyway, it's more likely that we die trying to reach gold rank than actually achieving it in any reasonable time. Otherwise, we'll be stuck in this town for years before we even think about leaving. And let's be honest, we don't need to wait that long. By the time we hit high silver rank, we'd be able to travel through most of Elandria without a problem."

Bao nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Bral, that seems like an overkill. We don't need to reach gold rank to be strong enough to travel safely."

Bral leaned forward, his smirk fading into a more serious expression. "But it's better than being dead during a journey, isn't it? You saw what happened with the landwyrm. We barely made it out. If we were stronger, we wouldn't have had to rely on luck. And besides, does anyone have a better idea?"

After a moment of silence Pao finally spoke up. "The idea of using the guild rank as a measure of strength makes sense. But what about aiming for Silver Rank Seven instead? It's just one tier below gold, but from what I've read, there's a massive difference in difficulty between the two. Silver Seven would still mark the progress we need, without being unrealistic."

The group considered her suggestion for a moment. Bral crossed his arms, deep in thought, while Idin tapped his fingers on the wooden table. Then Bral sighed. "I still like the gold-rank idea more."

Bao rolled her eyes. "Of course, you do. But I'm with Pao. It's more realistic. I don't want to be stuck in this town for years just to chase some unreachable goal."

Idin nodded. "I agree. Going out now would be suicide, but if we work toward Silver Rank Seven, we'll be strong enough to travel without constantly risking our lives. It's a reasonable compromise."

Bral sighed dramatically before turning his attention to Amukelo. "Come on, Amukelo, back me up a little here."

Amukelo scratched the back of his head, offering a sheepish smile. "Uhh... I don't even know what that means."

Bral groaned and shook his head. "Of course, you don't." He straightened up, ready to explain. "Alright, so basically, as a guild, and as adventurers, we—"

Before he could continue, a waitress arrived, balancing a tray with several large mugs of ale and plates of steaming food. The rich scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and spiced vegetables filled the air. Bral immediately forgot what he was about to say, his eyes lighting up at the sight. "Oh, finally! Food's here."

Amukelo was still curious about the ranking system, but as he saw everyone's mood shift toward the meal, he decided it could wait. Bao stretched her arms, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Yeah, let's leave that conversation for later. Right now, I just want to eat and enjoy myself."

Idin grinned as he picked up his knife and examined the juicy, well-seasoned cut of meat in front of him. "I cannot wait to dig into this beauty."

Bral lifted his mug high above his head, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Alright, everyone! First, let's drink—for a bright future in this town, for fast progress, for our dreams, and for our new member!" He turned slightly, giving Amukelo a meaningful glance. "For the man who saved our hides not once, but twice, even though he's only been traveling with us for a little over a week." He paused for a moment, his expression softening. "And most importantly, for God—who's allowed us to survive and push forward through everything we've faced."

He extended his arm, ale sloshing slightly in his mug. "Cheers!"

"Cheers!" they all echoed in unison, their mugs clinking together with a satisfying thud.

Everyone immediately took a hearty sip—or in Bral's case, a massive gulp—from their mugs. Except for Amukelo.

He sat there awkwardly, his mug still raised, staring into the dark liquid like it held some kind of secret. He glanced quickly around the table, watching how everyone drank so casually, laughing and wiping foam from their lips. Pao chuckled softly at something Bao whispered, Bral was already halfway through his mug, and Idin leaned back, enjoying the warmth of the drink.

Amukelo, however, remained frozen.

His hands gripped the mug tightly. He'd never had alcohol before—his mother had always been strict about it. "Not until you're a man," she had said countless times. And now, here he was, surrounded by people who treated this moment as natural, even celebratory, while he sat there not knowing what to do.

Bral, having emptied his mug in one long, satisfying gulp, slammed it back onto the table with a heavy sigh. "Ahhh... That's what I'm talking about!" He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaning back with a content grin. "Even though this ale is nothing compared to what we used to drink in the past, it still hits just right after a long journey."

As he turned to grab another bite of roasted meat, his eyes caught Amukelo still holding his untouched mug, staring at it like it was some foreign object. Bral tilted his head, squinting.

"Huh... Amukelo? Why aren't you drinking?" He raised an eyebrow, amused but also slightly concerned. "I mean, sure, it might not be the finest brew, but the vibe makes it ten times better."

Amukelo blinked, snapping out of his daze. His eyes darted to Bral, then to the others, and back to his mug. "Uh... No, no, it's not that. I just—" He scratched the back of his neck nervously, flashing an awkward, apologetic smile. "I've never... actually had any alcohol before."

The table went quiet for a beat. Bral twisted his head, his mouth slightly agape. "Huh? Never?"

Idin, who had just finished the last gulp of his own ale, nearly choked. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, leaning in with disbelief. "Don't tell me you've never had a single drink in your life?"

Amukelo shifted uncomfortably under their stares, his fingers tightening around the mug. He lowered his gaze to the table. "My mom always told me not to drink before I became a man... and, well, I guess I never thought about when that would be."

Idin's initial shock softened into a warm, almost brotherly smile. "Come on, Amukelo. Don't act like a grown-up kid now." He gestured to Amukelo's chest with his mug. "You're already a man. Your scars, your fighting, the way you've thrown yourself into danger for us—if that doesn't make you a man, then I don't know what does."

Amukelo's throat tightened. He felt a strange mixture of pride and awkwardness, unsure how to process Idin's words.

"So, what are you waiting for?" Idin continued, leaning closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Drink, drink, drink!"

Amukelo hesitated, still looking at the mug.

Bral burst into laughter and joined in, slamming his fist lightly against the table in rhythm. "Yeah! Drink! Drink! Drink!"

Amukelo's heart raced. The warmth of the moment washed over him—this was so different from the isolation he had known in the wilderness. He couldn't help but feel both awkward and grateful at the same time. He looked at his mug again, the ale inside reflecting the flickering light of the tavern.

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