I'm a Immortal Tavernkeeper, But My S-Rank Daughter Doesn't Know That!

As opposed to what Victor thought when he noticed Wanda Stillwind’s talents for battle, training her wasn’t easy at all, because he also had to improve himself every day.

When Wanda was almost nine, she already knew how to use a sword very well, but Victor, knowing this world, knew that just knowing how to handle a sword well wasn’t enough.

"Hold the bowstring steady when you pull it, Wanda. If you tremble, the string will tremble too. If you hesitate and take too long to shoot, your hands will shake even more and the arrow will be so slow that even a big bear will be able to dodge it."

The field where they were training stretched as far as the eye could see, punctuated by a series of gentle hills and a few scattered bushes. In the center of the field, a dark stone monolith stood majestically, a silent witness to the countless stories that this land held.

Victor watched intently as Wanda followed his instructions on how to handle the bow. Her hands, not yet perfectly accustomed to the new weapon, trembled slightly as she tried to find the necessary firmness. Shooting with a bow was a much more complicated task than it seemed to most people, so it wasn’t surprising that Wanda was struggling a little too.

At least the sunlight illuminating the landscape between the clouds highlighted the determination in her eyes, mixed with a hint of frustration at always getting it wrong.

"Breathe as you put the arrow in place, Wanda. And when you pull the string, hold your breath," said Victor, his soft voice cutting through the silence of the plain. "The bow is an extension of your body. Let your breath flow, and find calm. A calm mind and a stable body are fundamental to precision."

Wanda took a deep breath, trying to control the nerves that overwhelmed her. She adjusted her stance, raising her bow and aiming at a makeshift target, a simple straw scarecrow stuck in the ground fifteen meters away.

"Don’t rush the movement," Victor continued, carefully watching her every move. "Power resides in fluidity, not haste."

Wanda nodded and a few seconds later released the arrow with one smooth movement. The arrow sliced through the air towards its target and passed just above the scarecrow, embedding itself in the undergrowth meters ahead.

"Damn it!" The girl shouted, clearly annoyed. They’d been practising since early morning and she still hadn’t scored a single arrow.

"It’s okay, you’ll get there." Victor put a hand on her head and started walking towards the fallen arrow.

Obviously, Wanda’s accuracy was far from perfect, but Victor saw the potential there, a spark that needed to be carefully nurtured.

That day, the training continued until the sun began to set, and just as Victor was about to tell them to stop because they needed to rest, he looked at Wanda and noticed something different in her expression. Unlike before, she didn’t seem frustrated or in a hurry to hit the target, she seemed more focused and determined. At that moment, he knew she would succeed.

And, just as he imagined, she pulled the bowstring gently back with the arrow in place, looked at the target, took a deep breath and, in between her breaths, when her heart was calmer, she released the string. The arrow flew out with a whistle, cutting through the air quickly and embedding itself in the straw target. It was a practically perfect shot.

Wanda looked back, her eyes shining with excitement, and met Victor’s astonished expression, who smiled and said:

"You did it!"

"I did it, Dad! I did it! Did you see how I did it? I just puft! I let go of the arrow and it went!"

Her excited smile warmed Victor’s heart and...

"Hey, watch where you’re going, old man!" said someone whom Victor had accidentally bumped into.

In the blink of an eye, Victor was back to his reality, where he already had grey hair and deep expression lines on his face. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

’Ah! For a moment, I forgot where I was,’ he thought, looking around and noticing that he was surrounded by people who were looking at him suspiciously.

Crooked Alley was like a great avenue with every kind of illegal thing you could imagine, like an open wound in Kozáni’s underground. The air in this place seemed heavy with a mixture of smoke, pungent smells, and the constant sound of people talking. However, although it was underground, it wasn’t as cramped or discreet as you might imagine. The ceiling was high, so high that some of the shops were literally buildings, and as the damp walls dripped dirty water, it was logical that this place was somewhere in the sewers.

On the main avenue of Crooked Alley, shops squeezed between the uneven walls of the long ’alley’. Wavering light bulbs illuminated shop windows displaying goods as obscure as the alleys running parallel to the alley. There was everything in this place, from exotic food for the outcasts to eat, such as monster meat and insects, to slaves and monsters literally being sold alive.

The people who frequented Crooked Alley ranged from hardened hunters to unwary outcasts and criminals, from the lower classes to the plebs. All desperate for money.

On one corner, Victor spotted two half-beast women, both with rabbit ears on top of their heads and caged separately. A man with a disgusting smile stood next to the cages and shouted:

"Attention, attention! Limited offer here! We have two very warm rabbits, mother and daughter! Their meat is good for all sorts of things, if you know what I mean!"

The alley was crowded, with people everywhere, and the slavers’ words made some men laugh and approach.

Victor looked over his shoulder at the scene, but didn’t react. Seeing things like this always made his stomach churn and the blood in his veins bubble with anger, but he couldn’t act like a hero or he’d find himself in too much trouble. Victor preferred not to attract attention, so he adjusted the hood of his threadbare cloak that covered part of his body and continued walking through Crooked Alley. He knew that, in that den of corruption and depravity, he could find the answers to Wanda’s whereabouts.

Towards the end of Crooked Alley, where there was less movement of people, Victor spotted a stall that exuded the acrid smell of grilled monster meat. The seller, a dirty-looking man with small, bright eyes, eyed him suspiciously.

Victor approached the stall in question and placed a few bronze coins on the counter. "I want a piece of that Blue Mantis meat you have there. I’m hungry," said Victor in a hoarse voice.

The seller’s expression changed immediately when he saw the money. He smiled greedily and began to cut off a piece of Blue Mantis’s head with a dirty knife.

However, while Victor was distracted, waiting for his order, he felt a light touch on the back of his robe. It was subtle, like the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings. A skillful thief was trying to steal from him, which, in a place like this, wasn’t surprising. At first, Victor didn’t react. He let the thief’s hand do its work.

The thief’s nimble hands slid quickly through Victor’s pockets. When the thief thought he had achieved his goal, taking the bag of coins from inside the old hunter’s cloak, Victor acted with surprising speed for someone of his age. He grabbed the thief’s wrist, holding him fast.

The thief, a slim young man aged around fifteen, looked at Victor with a mixture of astonishment and despair.

"You’ve chosen the wrong prey, young man."

Before the boy could say an ’A’, Victor threw him into one of the extremely narrow alleys. At the same time, the monster meat seller turned to give the product to the customer, but Victor had already disappeared completely, so he just shook his shoulders and took the money from the counter.

"Sir, please apologize!" The thief tried to plead, but Victor’s hand over his mouth drowned out all the boy’s words.

"Tell me where the Robe thief is and maybe I’ll be nice and not break your arm," said Victor, keeping a low voice to avoid attracting attention, but squeezing the boy’s right arm.

The thief swallowed, looking around, but he couldn’t see anyone to ask for help and, even if someone did, the chances of somebody helping a stranger in this place were low.

"You’re going to talk, aren’t you?" Victor slowly began to turn the boy’s right arm.

Agonized, the boy looked into Victor’s eyes and saw that he was serious. Without hesitation, the boy nodded repeatedly. So Victor stopped twisting and took his hands off the thief, but didn’t move away.

"Come on, talk about Robe." Victor ordered, threw back his cloak with one arm, and showed the pommel of his sword.

The boy took a deep breath. "I do-don’t know Robe p-personally, nor do I know where he is!"

Victor took a step forward. "What’s it like? Are you useless then?"

"N-No, sir! I ca-can help! Just give me ti-time and I can find out where he..."

"Hey, stop bullying that boy now, and let him go!"

Suddenly, a woman’s voice echoed down the passage. This voice was somewhat familiar to Victor and it lightened his somber expression with immediate effect - It couldn’t be HER, right? Things couldn’t be that easy!

He turned abruptly and found a girl with blonde hair that fell in soft locks over her shoulders. Her blue eyes shone like the light of a full moon and an expression of determination stood out on her face. Dressed in clothes that mixed the practical and the refined, she exuded an aura of heroism.

The woman’s expression gradually changed too when Victor turned round. Her sharp eyes and eyebrows accentuated by her angry expression gave way to a clear look of surprise.

"Wanda?" Victor asked.

*

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