Mute poured the emotion numbing drink into his mouth.

Beer. Not the other one. One hundred sixty-eight hours had yet to pass. Uncharacteristically, Mute swiped the drink Dwarf Shaman had yet to even sip from and emptied that too into his mouth and in one gulp, swallowed it all. "What?" Goblin Slayer looked at Mute in what would be his own way of looking shocked. Mute went for High Elf Archer's mug as well, but thanks to the sluggish effect from the alcohol managed to yank it away from a drunk Mute. "Hands off!" A portion of the contents splashed on the floor and the table because of how fast it was pulled. "Hey! where are you going?"

Slowly getting up from his chair, the silent man went over to the closest tavern, which was located from the guild, and made a show himself as he bumped into chairs too far out from a table or into other adventurers. "I think you've had enough." The… Male? Female? Mute couldn't even discern the gender of the person in front of him, maybe he should stop. Is what he would've thought, but instead he pulled out three gold coins and almost slammed them on the counter. He was bribing the bartender to hand him another, but even with the additional coin, they pushed the coin his way and shook their head in refusal. Mute would've clicked his tongue if he could. Instead, he stopped using a stool for support and turned around, making his way back to the table he previously got up from.

"I like alcohol as much as the next person, but don't ya think you've had enough, lad?" Dwarf Shaman glanced back and forth between the once filled mug and the drunk making his way back to them. "Why don't you want to come?" Priestess shifted uncomfortably in her seat watching Mute. She'd seen ordinary good people have a really bad day and turn into a former shell of themselves. What could have possibly happened to Mute?

Stop looking at me like that.

Mute thought to himself as Priestess' concerned look never left her face. Since the noiseless alcoholic's brain only worked at a fourth of its full power he didn't concern himself with voicing his thoughts to the journal strapped to his belt which housed other various utilities.

"I...I think you need some help." Priestess said with a conviction not usually seen in her. The drunkard looked up from his slouched position on his seat. Mute began paying attention. In earnest, the only people in this room who he truly respected was his own party. The rest of the group noticed his sudden focus on her and his grip loosen on his mug. "I agree." Goblin Slayer then paused tossing a though back and forth in his cerebrum. "You heard what she said earlier." High Elf Archer pointed to Guild Girl who pretended not to be overhearing the conversation. "Keep acting like that and you'll be demoted back down." Lizard Priest's tail stiffened followed by a flick of his tongue. "Trust is an important aspect of a guild. Without it, I'm sure consequences will develop."

"You're not coming with us." Mute shifted in his seat at his words, what effect it had on him stayed unknown. The party's leader leaned forward and looked straight into the bloodshot eyes. "Goblin Slayer, sir that's-"

"Entirely necessary." Priestess didn't expect to be cut off like that her mouth still agape as if she was about to speak. The whole guild had suddenly gone silent at the raised voice of the goblin slaughterer. "Maybe a more… tempered reaction may be called for?" Lizard Priest spoke up breaking the silence Goblin Slayer's serious voice had created. "Um…" The religious teenager meekly reached for something in her robe and handed a small rectangular piece of somehow hardened sheepskin paper.

"It's for an alcohol rehabilitation center for those who might need it." She handed it to Mute who's emotions still remained unpredictable thanks to his helm. He clumsily took hold of the card and stuffed it inside one of his pockets. "Let's go." Without consulting his group, Goblin Slayer stood up and made his way towards an expectant Guild Girl. Everyone else besides the excluded followed him. After exchanging some words with the receptionist who eyed Mute for a brief moment nodded and then smiled as the party departed towards the snowy mountains to the north. Something about a missing swordswoman who went goblin hunting and never returned.

She's most likely dead. Or, she's become a plaything of those green dwarfs.

Mute sat on the table alone his head down. Though he couldn't see it, he could feel the girl over the counter looking at him, her eyes weighing down heavily on him. He needed to get out of this place. Now. As swiftly as a drunk could possibly be, rising up from his table and nearly knocking over his mug, Mute left the guild, refusing to look at the eyes of someone sympathizing with him. He didn't have a problem. He had it under control. Nobody controls him but himself. Needless to say, Mute didn't go anywhere near wherever this rehabilitation may be. Instead, he'd pass the rest of the day in the closest tavern. Mute didn't know the name of this place, nor did he care, he just wanted a drink. With coins already at hand, the clumsy, bloodshot-eyed silent man slammed a piece of paper on the countertop that hastily spelled one of the available drinks. Taking advantage of Mute's current state, the keep charged just slightly extra for the beverage he had ordered. Mute kept this up for the remainder of the day until it had hit midnight. Sitting on his stool, Mute's ears picked up the sound of a new person. The stranger took a seat right next to Mute and with a voice as deep as quicksand said: "A shot for myself." The new customer then turned to look at the man sitting to his right and added: "And one for my new friend." With three sheets to the wind, Mute twisted the stool he sat on and turned to face this new man. Every other person in that tavern's face had suddenly gone pale as they realized who this unco was. If one inspected this being a lot more carefully, they would notice that underneath the large and heavy hood there housed a floating skull missing two tooths in the upper and lower jaw. Inside of the eye sockets two large ruby gems stuck themselves to the skull. Lastly a small transparent smoky astral like green aura absorbed the entire cranium. Mute assumed it was able to hold up its clothing due to whatever magic it was using. Looking around the bar, Mute noticed that not a single person in this rundown saloon was an adventurer considering there disposition towards this monster that no doubt had ulterior motives. Unperturbed, the bartender served the two the drinks the Demilich had ordered. At the same time, they both emptied the contents into their mouths, Mute however was the only one who swallowed. The glasses then were automatically refilled by the man over the counter. The silence in the air was torn apart by a sudden loud inhale coming from the skull. The patrons in the room let out screams as their bodies stretched, reality warping around them. Seconds later, they all collapsed and fell from the chairs they sat on. The bartender and Mute were the only ones left unharmed. "That attack only works on people who have souls." Demilich informed Mute, realizing Mute would've questioned as to why the keep was still kicking.

"Where's your soul, Mute?" The silent man reached for his shot glass and threw the contents into his mouth, giving no response to the monster sitting next to him. "Are you a monster?" Mute didn't move an inch but instead chose to keep staring at the ground with a bored look on his face, at least, that's what Demilich had interpreted it as. "Heretofore is seeking others just like you to join the demon ranks. You lack a 'soul'. That makes you a monster." Mute looked around himself and felt an unbridled rage starting up in his heart. The colorless eyes and shriveled up bodies around him fueled his anger even further. He found the closest napkin near him and pulled out his writing utensil. One word was neatly presented to this lich who curiously leaned in closer to look at the tiny words scribbled on this sheet.

DIE.

From behind the paper, sixteen small pellets easily tore through the paper and made their way towards Demilich. Every single pellet struck the skull sending bits and pieces flying in every direction. The demonic bartender sitting behind the bar was formulating something in both hands, but before any kind of attack could be launched, he found a tri-dagger lodged into his throat. Mute pressed harder onto this demon's neck and tore open his entire throat. The dead monster let loose his attack by mistake. As he fell backward, a huge fireball tore through the ceiling of this establishment. Two critical hits. That's all it took. Mute looked above him and watched as the cinders created from the blast gently fell towards him.

Heretofore? He's the one raising the demon army. At least that's what High Elf Archer had said. He's the reason the three diverse adventurers had sought Goblin Slayer's help in the first place. Mute had never actually killed demons, well, until now, though these seemed weak, it didn't take much to take them down. But then again…

Mute cocked his shotgun with one hand and caught the shell that launched itself out of it.

He did have a huge advantage over them with this modern technology. So now what? He had a feeling stronger "messengers" would come his way to "convince" him to join, whether he wanted to or not. Guess he should head back home and pass the day away by drinking some more. He'd stop by a different tavern and buy a keg from them. He was strong enough to haul it on one of his shoulders.