630 Day Tour
The nearly three-meter-tall giant expressed regret, “The six-member council mandates that we can’t discuss matters not mentioned in the Holy Bible. As a believer of Mr. Fool, you must be familiar with the sermons and official statements. I can’t share anything beyond that, just as I can’t claim to have personally seen the Angel of Redemption and received his assistance.”
Attempting to tap Lumian on the shoulder, the “giant” found Lumian deftly dodging the gesture.
“How should I address you?” Lumian, feigning reverence, inquired, not fully convinced.
The “giant” responded, “Livalie.
“A toast to the newborn of the City of Silver!”
Lumian raised his massive beer glass, clinking it against the other party’s. Then, he downed the remaining golden liquid.
Rubbing his bulging stomach, he gestured towards the washroom, indicating his need to relieve himself.
The beer in the New City of Silver wasn’t extraordinary, but the cups were simply too large. After two glasses, Lumian’s physique and alcohol tolerance reached their limit.
He wasn’t drunk; he was just stuffed!
Entering the washroom, Lumian stood before one of the urinals, unbuckling his belt and narrowing his eyes.
Amidst the splashing sounds, a “giant” more than three meters tall entered and chose the urinal beside him.
Lumian subconsciously turned his head before slowly retracting his gaze.
Dazed, he stared at the wall in front of him until the pressure in his abdomen completely subsided. Only then did he leave the washroom, returning to his usual seat at the bar counter.
Livalie had already ordered a new glass of beer for Lumian. It was dark-black but not murky. Swirling in the mug, it revealed a hint of brown.
“Try it. It’s a specialty of the New City of Silver, Black-Faced Beer!” the “giant,” firmly believing himself to be human, introduced enthusiastically.
“Black-Faced Beer?” Lumian, holding the beer glass larger than his head, asked in puzzlement.
Livalie suddenly felt a pang of sadness.
“The Forsaken Land of the Gods lacked the sun and fertile soil. Only Black-Faced Grass grew. It was our staple, sustaining generations of City of Silver residents. Though always insufficient, it was better than nothing.
“Back then, brewing alcohol from Black-Faced Grass was impossible. It was too, too extravagant.
“Heh heh, now with food, meat, and milk in abundance, I’ve grown taller again. I’m 30 centimeters taller than before.”
“Can Black-Faced Grass still be planted in the New City of Silver? Grown underground?” Although Lumian wasn’t a Planter, having grown up in the countryside, he knew that in extreme environments, those plants might not survive under normal circumstances.
Livalie smiled.
“It can be planted! It can grow in any environment. Of course, we’ve had someone modify the Black-Faced Grass seeds to make them more suitable for the current conditions. Its texture is actually quite different from before. Even more flavorful. Give it a try. You won’t find this beer elsewhere. We don’t grow much ourselves. It’s mainly to remember the past.”
Lumian raised the beer glass to his lips with interest, taking a large gulp.
The first thing he tasted was the normal, faint fragrance of wheat. Then, he experienced a refreshing grass-like stimulation in the sweet alcohol. Finally, a subtle milky taste filled his mouth.
“Not bad. It’s a special and wonderful experience.” Lumian was generous with his praise.
Curious, he inquired, “Do you have any liquor brewed from Black-Faced Grass?”
Livalie’s expression darkened as he shook his head.
“We in the New City of Silver consider alcoholism debased, indulgent, and a waste of food. That’s why we reject liquor.”
At this point, he paused.
“Besides, Black-Faced Grass doesn’t seem suitable for brewing. Even if it’s made into beer, drinking too much will cause hallucinations. I can only handle three glasses at a time.”
Minor toxicity? In the Forsaken Land of the Gods, people from the New City of Silver relied on eating this plant to survive generation after generation. It wasn’t easy… Lumian recalled his sister’s occasional jokes and smirked.
“If you drink too much, will you see a group of little people dancing?”
Livalie pondered for a moment and replied, “No, hallucinations are usually different. Some see their wives slapping them, some hear the cries of their deceased relatives, and some find a baby lying by the roadside wailing…”
Lumian couldn’t bear to hear about matters involving babies crying, so he lost interest and focused on the taste of the Black-Faced Beer.
After finishing the glass, he made another trip to the washroom before leaving the bar. He planned to take advantage of the afternoon sun to stroll around New Silver City and teleport back to the Berries docked at Port Hanth in the evening.
In the sparsely populated yet unusually towering buildings, half-giants roamed. Every now and then, one or two “giants” standing over three meters tall could be spotted. Those below 1.8 meters were a rarity, except for those with child-like faces.
Lumian’s stature barely met the criteria, and his eyes quickly scanned the surroundings.
He observed turquoise vines snaking up the outer walls of certain houses. On these vines, numerous soft, large, white, and plump mushrooms thrived.
Mushrooms? Since when did vines yield mushrooms? Lumian furrowed his brow, questioning his botanical knowledge.
It occurred to him that this might be a unique plant brought from the Forsaken Land of the Gods by the New City of Silver, bringing a sense of relief.
He approached a roadside stall and glanced up.
“You’re selling milk. Why don’t I see a bucket of milk?”
The vendor, standing at 2.56 meters with slightly grayish-blue skin, smiled genuinely and replied, “The house behind me is mine. Want some milk?”
“I’ll take a glass.” Lumian, having already inquired, had no qualms about purchasing a glass of milk; money was not an issue.
Though verl d’or and gold risot weren’t official currency in the New City of Silver, gold held value universally.
The vendor cheerfully grabbed a cup, turned around, and headed to his two-story house. He reached out and plucked a soft, white mushroom.
He aimed the mushroom at the cup and squeezed it.
Milk-white liquid gushed out, rapidly filling the cup.
Lumian’s jaw dropped, confusion once again clouding his eyes.
This is what you guys call milk?
“It’s ready.” The half-giant vendor handed the milk to Lumian.
Lumian instinctively took it and asked in bewilderment, “Are those mushrooms?”
“Yes, milk mushrooms,” the half-giant vendor replied earnestly.
You call that mushrooms? Lumian paid in a daze and left the stall with a cup in hand.
He couldn’t recall how much he paid or even why he started the conversation about buying milk.
After walking more than ten meters, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip.
It tasted like milk!
Lumian finished the glass with a frown, finding nothing peculiar.
Yet, the liquid came from mushrooms!
Just consider it a unique plant… Just consider it a unique plant… Lumian muttered, deciding not to try it again.
He feared that drinking too much might turn him into a milk producer himself!
He continued to wander aimlessly along streets twice as wide as those in Port Hanth.
Suddenly, another “half-giant” with slightly grayish-blue skin approached, holding a thick book and speaking with unusual enthusiasm, “My friend, would you be interested in hearing me introduce our beacon and savior…”
Lumian smiled, pressed his hand to his chest, and bowed.
“Praise The Fool!”
“Ah, a brother.” The half-giant was both disappointed and delighted.
The two of them conversed in ancient Feysac, but Lumian had overheard New City of Silver residents occasionally speaking Jotun, a language that could stir supernatural powers.
“Are there usually foreigners here?” Lumian asked casually.
The half-giant smiled and replied, “We often have foreigners visiting, exploring, and sightseeing. In the early years, some chose to settle here, but most eventually moved away. Living with us proved challenging for them. Heh heh, we’re too tall and not well-versed in the pleasures of life.”
With that, the half-giant took something from his pocket and handed it to Lumian.
“I’m pleased to have you as a guest in the New City of Silver. Try our locally made candy.”
It was a candy wrapped in thin blue-white paper.
Lumian didn’t hesitate. He took it, tore off the wrapping, and popped the white candy into his mouth.
The rich milky aroma and smooth sweetness quickly unfolded on his tongue, creating a delightful experience.
Milk flavor… Lumian’s curiosity sparked as he inquired with a peculiar expression, “Is this milk candy?”
“Yes,” the proselytizing half-giant replied with a smile.
“What kind of milk did you use?” Lumian hadn’t anticipated ever asking such a question.
The half-giant replied naturally, “Milk from the milk mushrooms.”
“…” Lumian held the milk candy in his mouth, torn between spitting it out or swallowing it.
He sensed the genuine warmth and enthusiasm when the other party shared the milk candy.
As time passed, Lumian witnessed mushrooms with a cooked meat fragrance, mushrooms smelling like fish, and various peculiar mushrooms.
His gaze turned lost as he observed the half-giants and giants joyfully sharing their food.
Unconsciously, he arrived at a corner of the New City of Silver.
A towering building stood there.
It was split into two sections. On the left, a spire tower; on the right, a domed tower. The outer wall, standing 30 to 40 meters tall, was a grayish-white hue.
The Twin Towers? According to Livalie, the spire houses the library and other public facilities, while the domed tower serves as the council office for the ruling six-member council of the New City of Silver… There must be Sealed Artifacts and formidable individuals in such a place… Lumian stood nearby, examining the imposing structure before him.
His eyes moved across the domed tower and noticed black plants resembling hair growing from the cracks near the ground. They hung there, swaying occasionally in the wind.
Lumian diverted his attention and headed towards the spire, eager to explore the books passed down in the New City of Silver, a human settlement existing in the Forsaken Land of the Gods for thousands of years.