"Clink!"
The glass goblets struck together, producing a crisp and pleasant sound. The pale golden champagne bubbled delicately, looking quite beautiful under the light.
In contrast, Silas's glass, filled only with water, seemed rather lacking.
Because of that incident where he'd seen two corpses after drinking, he no longer dared to casually try alcohol.
"Hey, Silas, aren't you being a bit much? This banquet is specifically for you, and you won't even take a sip of wine?"
Leonard teased with a smile.
"Ah, sorry."
Silas had no choice but to explain. "After I drink, my mental state becomes unstable. I see strange things, so I don't drink."
As soon as he finished speaking, the atmosphere at the banquet suddenly cooled.
Loss of control: one of the things every Beyonder least wanted to encounter.
And Silas happened to be a Beyonder on that particularly dangerous pathway. With this explanation, naturally, no one would press him to drink anymore, but the mood had inevitably become somewhat awkward.
Even Leonard, usually carefree, now wore an expression of embarrassment at having misspoken.
"It's fine, everyone. Don't worry about me."
Seeing this, Silas smiled. "I'm usually okay. It's just that drinking causes problems.
Maybe it's because I still need to continue digesting the potion to reduce its effects.
After some time passes, it should be fine, and then we can drink together."
After that, he raised his glass frequently, making symbolic rounds with each colleague and exchanging a few jokes, gradually improving the atmosphere.
When Silas clinked glasses with Klein, the latter's expression seemed somewhat hesitant, as if he wanted to say something. But he quickly covered it up, and Silas didn't press him.
Captain Dunn was the last to clink glasses with him.
"Old Neil sent me a letter."
Dunn smiled gently. "He said he's working peacefully at the Goddess's church. He's let go of his past regrets and has been sleeping soundly lately."
"That's wonderful to hear."
Silas replied.
"If Old Neil were still here, he'd be raving about this steak," Rozanne said, cutting a piece of juicy beef and savoring it with feeling.
Yet despite her words, she set down her knife and fork, neither eating nor drinking, only staring at the meat on the table.
"Too bad he's not here," said Seeka Tron, who had the air of a writer. "So, for his sake, eat a little more."
"But I'm trying to lose weight..."
Rozanne wavered a bit.
"It's fine. You're eating this for Old Neil."
"Ms. Seeka, you're absolutely right!"
Rozanne affirmed Seeka's statement, then began digging in with determination.
Throughout the meal, everyone laughed and talked about recent amusing incidents and daily life. The scene was lively.
Silas returned to his seat and began focusing on the food in front of him. The exhaustion from training killed his appetite, but reason told him he had to eat something.
He could only cut the meat into small pieces, putting a little in his mouth at a time, chewing carelessly a few times, then washing it down with soup and water.
After eating this way for a while, his appetite gradually improved, and he finally managed to clear the food in front of him.
Waiters brought dessert. Colleagues who'd eaten their fill began chatting idly.
Seeka was telling Rozanne about her struggles writing novels, Klein and Leonard were discussing poetry, and even the aloof Royale was exchanging occasional words with the stone-faced Frye.
The wine was good, the feast was good, but everything must end. Seeing that everyone had eaten their fill, Dunn, as captain, raised his glass once more.
"All right, everyone. For the last toast of the evening, let's raise our glasses to Silas once more."
Hearing this, everyone raised their glasses simultaneously and looked toward Silas, each face bearing a smile.
Silas raised his glass and stood, looking at his colleagues' smiling faces, and let out a soft breath.
"Thank you, everyone."
He said sincerely.
***
Besides loss of appetite, another consequence of physical training was muscle soreness.
It wasn't much that same day, but when Silas woke up the next morning, it was absolute torture.
Even climbing out of bed became extremely difficult. Fortunately, his sister Cecilia had learned massage when caring for him before.
She gave him a full-body massage to relax his muscles, which made him feel somewhat better.
Because of the Lanevus incident, they hadn't been able to see the theater performance last weekend, so they'd rescheduled for this weekend.
Over the following days, Silas's routine became fairly regular.
In the mornings, he'd first report to the company, then study mysticism knowledge until lunch break.
In the afternoons, he'd practice shooting at the range first, then go with Klein to receive training from combat instructor Gawain.
"Your foundation in mysticism is about there now."
One morning, Klein smiled at Silas. "It's time to combine it with practice."
"Oh? What do you mean?"
Hearing him say this, Silas became interested.
"Don't get too excited. It's just an underground trading market related to mysticism," Klein said with a smile. "I'll take you there for a look around, buy some materials, then come back. I'll teach you how to make a Slumber Charm."
"Excellent idea."
Silas said happily. He knew about Slumber Charms. Royale had used one to control Hanass back then.
Although he had the more convenient Servant's Bell to use, its origins were hard to explain, so it was best not to use it in front of his colleagues.
The two boarded a public carriage, chatting idly in the swaying cabin until the carriage reached Tingen's dock district, where they got off.
"How's your control of the potion been lately?"
As they chatted, Klein casually brought up matters related to potions.
"Not bad. As long as I rest normally, I don't hear any strange sounds."
Silas also answered casually, but inwardly he began to wonder what his colleague was getting at.
"Mm."
Klein walked a few more steps, then turned to look at him. "You know I've been working as a Seer at the divination club lately."
"I've heard others mention it."
Silas nodded. Klein, as an actual seer with genuine mystical powers, going to that kind of place was basically playing with cheat codes enabled.
And he went so diligently, he must have made quite a bit on the side.
"When I divine for others at the club and give them guidance, I always feel like the potion's influence inside me becomes smaller."
Klein continued.
Hm?
Silas sensed something off and couldn't help but stop and look at Klein.
Is he hinting at the Acting Method to me?
"What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying, when I do things according to my potion's name, the potion seems to become more compatible with my body," Klein said with a smile, continuing to drop heavy hints to Silas.
"So I thought maybe you could try it too, acting according to your potion's name... Perhaps that way, the potion's influence on you would be much less."
He really does know the Acting Method, and he's proactively telling me!
Ah, right. During the last banquet, he probably already had similar thoughts.
Silas thought to himself, understanding the meaning behind that peculiar expression from before.