In the cozy dimness of a tavern, the buzz of drunken conversations and laughter echoed off the wooden walls, filling the air with a scent of adventure and mystery. In one corner, a group of drinkers shared grand tales of magical battles and hidden treasures, their voices rising in excitement with each sip of beer.

"And then, I said, 'If it's fire you want, it's fire you're going to get!'" A burly man gesticulated wildly, mimicking the casting of an imaginary fireball. Laughter and applause erupted but were abruptly cut off when the tavern door burst open. A hooded figure entered, immediately silencing the crowd. Step by step, they advanced towards the bar, each movement closely watched by those present.

Reaching the bar, the figure finally spoke with a voice carrying an almost tangible urgency. "I need information about the Ice Princess. Do you know where I can find her?" asked Drake, his youthful voice contrasting with the seriousness of his request.

The bartender, initially surprised by the dramatic intrusion, raised an eyebrow, sizing up the young man in front of him. "A kid, huh? Maybe you should stop playing and leave the heroic quests to the real adventurers," he retorted, a skeptical smile playing on his lips.

Unfazed, Drake lifted his face, allowing the dim light to reveal his determined expression beneath the hood, his gaze intimidating. "Call me Drake. You think I'm playing?" The firmness in his voice left no room for doubt. Despite his youth, there was something about him, an intensity that commanded respect.

The bartender, now seeing the young man in a new light, leaned forward, his curiosity piqued by the boy's fiery gaze. "Well, Drake, if it's information you seek, perhaps there's something I can do for you. But tell me, why would a young man like you be after the Ice Princess?"

In the tavern's dim light, every word from Drake was like a cutting winter breeze. "I'm here just to receive information, not to provide it," his voice was a cold murmur, but clear and precise.

The silence was broken by the heavy footsteps of a burly man, advancing with a colossal axe slung over his shoulder. His imposing presence seemed to challenge the room's calm.

Without turning, Drake sensed the giant's approach. "Do you wish to join this conversation?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a subtle challenge.

The man, momentarily surprised by the young man's courage, chuckled lowly. "A bold kid... Are you looking for Shinie?"

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Drake, without yielding to fear or hesitation, stood firm. "Do you have information about her?"

The man scratched the floor with the tip of his axe, pondering his words. "Rumors say the kidnapper was a mage specializing in flames..."

Drake, impatient, retorted with sarcasm. "Great, you've narrowed my search to anyone who plays with fire. Almost every mage knows a trick or two."

That's when the bartender intervened, seeking to clarify the gravity of the situation. "It's not just any fire magic... we're talking about a level B or even A."

The burly man added, lowering his voice: "They say it was Julius Nefarion, the fire specialist. Know him?"

Drake, now attentive, stared at the man, a spark of interest in his eyes. "Julius Nefarion? I've heard things about him… nothing good."

The burly man sat at the bar, ordering a drink from the bartender while sipping slowly. With a grim look, he added: "To your misfortune, Julius was seen a few days ago in Old-Ville. But I doubt a kid like you could get there."

Drake, staring intently at the man, did not hide an ironic smile upon hearing the words. He calmly thanked for the information and prepared to leave the tavern. However, the man abruptly stood up, wielding his axe and facing Drake with hostility. "You think this information is free, boy?"

Drake turned slowly, his eyes cold and determined as he faced the man. "I think I didn't hear you right. Can you repeat?"

The man, now completely enraged, shouted: "Damn it! I'll teach you a lesson since your parents didn't bother!"

In a swift movement, he advanced towards Drake, brandishing his huge axe. The battle was about to begin.

Drake skillfully dodged the first blow of the axe, the metal slicing the air with a sinister sound. He responded with a series of agile movements, using his water magic to create sharp blades that sliced through the air towards his opponent. The noise of the attacks, the splashes of water, and the sweat dripping from Drake's forehead filled the tense tavern atmosphere.

The man, despite his brute strength, struggled to keep up with Drake's dexterity and agility. He roared in frustration and launched a fierce attack, aiming for the young man's head. Drake reacted with a quick movement, creating a water shield to protect himself, but the impact was so powerful that he was thrown back, crashing into a table and knocking over glasses and chairs.

Despite the injury, Drake stood up with determination. He focused his magical energy and launched a final attack, sending a torrent of water that enveloped the man and threw him against the wall. The impact left the man unconscious, bleeding, and defeated.

The tavern was silent, with all present watching the battle with looks of astonishment. Drake, breathing heavily and wounded, looked around and declared seriously: "Anyone else wants to try teaching me a lesson?"

Drake left the tavern, his minor injuries not a concern for him. He focused on his healing magic, invoking the energy of water to accelerate the healing process. Small droplets of water floated around him as his cuts and scratches began to close.

With a sigh of relief, he continued his journey in search of Julius Nefarion and the Ice Princess. Old-Ville was his destination, and he knew it would not be an easy journey.