I'm Misty, an unremarkable tavern owner. I have only three goals in life: brew drinks, make money, and sleep in.
But my customers seem to have some huge misunderstanding about me.
I poured a dejected female knight a glass of cider, and she suddenly regained her faith, deciding I was a messenger sent by the gods.
I mixed a special drink for the Imperial Princess, who was suffering from writer's block. Inspiration struck, and she became convinced I was a wise sage hiding my true abilities.
I casually gave a failed experiment to the passing Demon King. After drinking it, she had an epiphany and discovered new magic, and from then on, she looked at me with reverence.
Watching this crowd of powerful people with their MAX-level imaginations constantly getting jealous over “who gets to receive my guidance,” all I want to do is hug my beer barrel and say: Please, I'm really not some savior. I'm just an ordinary person who wants to laze around!
