บท 179: No Time To Grieve

'What was the saying? …Kill the man and visit his grave?'

Emir chuckled at that thought as he arrived at a bar, the same one he visited more than a year ago with the group of six hunters.

Opening the batwing doors, he stepped in and was welcomed by the smell of strong alcohol hitting his nose.

It was dimly lit by flickering lanterns and the glow of a few scattered bulbs. 

The room was adorned with wooden beams and rough-hewn walls that had witnessed countless tales of camaraderie.

Camaraderie, or, in other words… drunk hunters that smashed up the place.

The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey, mixed with the aroma of hearty meals being served at the tables.

The bar counter, worn and weathered, stood as a testament to the many patrons who had leaned on it while sharing stories of their triumphs and defeats.