Chapter 219: Dragon Fart

Author’s note: Hi guys.

Coming up with a name for this one was easy for once.

However, speaking of the chapter, there is a part of it I'm not quite sure whether to leave in, as may not be comfortable for someone to read (nothing serious, just farts staff. Still...). I got a little carried away writing this chapter - again - and so I'd love to hear your opinion on this and that's why I left it there. Due to the lack of formatting options here on Patreon, unfortunately, I'll mark it in bold (it may make it a little harder to read).

Without further ado, enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 219: Dragon Fart - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/123606230

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Chapter 219: Dragon Fart

"Besides, both Janine and Marcus are sitting back there at our table."

"Alright then, she's your apprentice, Deckard," the Barmaid said, grinning wide enough to split her face before she filled her lungs and roared for all to hear, "Two Dragon Farts!"

The room exploded. Cheers, jeers, stomping feet, all crashing together until the walls seemed to hum with it. My ears rang sharp with the noise, and half the crowd surged toward the bar to see the idiot who dared to challenge the drink without knowing what she was actually drinking.

"Deckard, I... I don't think..."

"Easy, girl," he said, his hand settling on my shoulder as he leaned in close. "Wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think you could handle it."

The trust in his voice warmed my heart, but that didn't mean I was thrilled with the idea. Taking this drink seemed really dangerous and judging the actions of others in the tavern, a pretty big deal. I couldn't even count the number of eyes boring into my back, making me wish I was anywhere but here. Not to mention that despite what he said, there was still a chance that I would somehow mess it up.

It would only make me a laughingstock for everyone.

'Ah, I see... stupid, Korra.' What he was trying to do was not to prove to others that I had it in me to drink the Dragon Fart. He wanted them to accept me, plain and simple. Vara had tried it over and over, failed every time, and yet they...

Two shots of Dragon Fart landed in front of us.

"Good luck, Grey. May the farts leave your guts in one piece," the Barmaid said, while the crowd took up the chant. "Fart. Fart. Fart. Fart..."

After everything I had heard, I imagined something vile. A cursed brew, spitting fumes, leaving scorch marks on the wood. What sat there before me instead could have been any common drink. No fumes, no hiss - nothing that would explain the name.

"Word of advice," Deckard said, glass in hand. "Don’t sniff it - just down the whole thing." He raised his drink, waiting for me to do the same. 

Cheers rolled through the crowd as I lifted mine, doing my best not to breathe too deep.

A genuine smile crossed his face. “To you, girl, my apprentice!”

He tipped his glass back, and with a bracing breath, I followed.

At first, I didn’t feel a thing, no specific taste, nothing to set off any warning bells. If anything, it was the stench that got into my nose while swallowing the drink that made my stomach clench. True to its name, the stench clung like rot and smoke, the kind of fart only a dragon could muster.

It wasn’t until a few heartbeats later that a pleasant warmth spread through my mouth and throat. A fleeting comfort - gone in a blink. The heat turned to fire, searing through my sinuses, leaving nothing behind but rawness and the sharp tang of pain.

My body kicked into gear at once, sending mana into the damaged areas, regenerating my guts as that vile drink made its way down. All the while, I struggled to keep the tears at bay and not start screaming.

• You were poisoned

'No shit!' A brew like this would be either outlawed back on Earth - or used as a weapon on the front lines.

The searing heat crept further with every heartbeat, burning through veins, muscle, and skin alike. For a moment, even the air against my skin stung like a flame. Then it was gone, all at once, leaving behind a pleasant warmth in my body, a strange bittersweet taste I couldn’t match with anything I remembered, and a faint buzz softening the edges of the world.

'H-hold on! No! No, no, no!' My hands clutched at my stomach, cold sweat trickling down my temples. Just when I thought it had passed, a searing pain flared through my gut. 'It is burning its way through, isn't it?'

Deckard leaned closer, no doubt seeing my rising panic. "Don't try to hold it in."

"Huh? W-what?" 

As if in answer, my stomach gave a sickening churn - not the usual hungry growl, but something worse. That churning shifted lower, filling my guts until I felt ready to burst. "S-seriously, Deckard. What's going on...?"

He didn’t bother explaining. Just climbed off the stool, raised a hand to the crowd, and to their roaring cheers, loosed a fart long and loud enough to rattle the mugs. The worst part wasn’t the smell, or that I seemed to be the only one who felt embarrassed for him. It was knowing I might be next.

Annoyingly, while I was sweating buckets, he was enjoying the cheers.

This time, the Barmaid leaned over, eyeing me like I was about to set her bar on fire. "Better stand up. Those farts are hot enough to burn through your knickers and brand the wood."

Only a fool would miss that hint. Didn’t want her stool ruined - not that it topped my list of problems. If she was right...

My body, stubborn and shameless, didn’t care about my fears - or how cursed awkward the whole thing was. When the time came, to loud, painful cheers, it did what it had to do.

The air thickened with a stench far too close to the drink itself.

"Ah, she did it!"

"That was a nice one."

"She made it through the Dragon Fart!"

"I knew Deckard wouldn't choose anyone who wouldn't."

Their praise and heavy-handed pats swelled my chest with pride, though it didn’t stop me from diving straight into my domain to check my shorts.

"No holes, right?" Deckard grinned, standing there, fingers scratching at his neck like the question itched. "I don't buy the cheap stuff - most times, anyway. Listen, I was told... well, care to dance, girl?"

"D-d-dance?"

As if my confusion weren’t enough, the whole tavern - at least everyone close enough to hear, which was near enough all of them - fell quiet. Only for a breath.

"Did he say dance?"

"Deckard? Dancing?"

"What the fuck is going on today?"

"Hey, guys, Deckard's gonna dance!" A woman’s voice cut across the room, loud enough to reach even the few who hadn’t caught on yet. The air itself seemed to hum, the crowd’s excitement rippling through the room like the first shiver before a storm. It raised the hairs all over my body, though the thought of me dancing did the opposite - left my stomach knotted and cold.

Not that I hated dancing. Far from it. Loved it, truth be told - but only behind locked doors, away from the eyes of others. Unlike my friends, I was not gifted in the motor coordination of my body. In other words, I was a dancing klutz.

"Girl? You wouldn't leave a guy hanging, would you?"

"No... NO! I... I don't see a dance floor."

That part wasn’t a lie. Didn’t help that I barely saw anything past a few feats of the bar. Deckard’s smile stretched wide as he waved toward the back, and just like that, the crowd peeled away, clearing a path. Honestly, the amount of respect the people in City Guards had for him was amazing, even though he hadn't served in a long time.

Right now, though, I'd rather they block our way.

"I... I can't dance."

"Then you're in luck," he said, holding out his hand. "They say I'm a great dancer."

Had this been Earth, or anyone else, I would have taken it as pure flaunting. Yet there was not a trace of deceit in his voice - he believed every word. And most of all, back in Esulmor I saw what he could do. Moving like the land itself bent to his will, laws of nature cast aside. 

That said, none of that held true for me. 

Unless I wanted to embarrass myself out there on the floor, I needed nothing to hinder my steps.

"Just a moment," the words left me as I dropped onto the stool, boots and socks coming off with quick, jerky motions.

"Not the bar," Barmaid Thal called out before my eyes had even landed there.

Luckily, I didn’t need to worry long about where to stash my stuff so it wouldn't get stolen.

"Allow me," Deckard said, slipping them into his spatial tool with a casual touch. "Now, shall we?"

That knot in my gut hadn’t loosened, dancing wasn’t something learned by baring toes. But with my feet once again free, I at least felt confident enough not to embarrass myself.

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Author’s note: So what do you think? Too awkward, or can I leave that part in?

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