Casual Heroing, Chapter 233

WAIT, WHAT ABOUT DRAGON'S LEATHER?! 🐲🐲🐲

Next chapter comes out on January 24th!

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 233 – Dragon’s Hate

I pass my tongue over my top teeth, feeling some of the meat from the skewer stuck there. As I start picking at it with my pinkie, I ponder Aemilianus's words.

"You know, it's becoming really annoying how people know just about everything about me, and I don't know anything about them."

"I mean, ask away," the guy replies with a smile.

"Really? Ok, who killed Plinius?" I reply with skepticism.

"My money is on the Royal Family," he smiles widely. "I don't have anyone to confirm it, though."

That's when I'm reminded of a detail in Plinius’s letter.

"What if I told you that Plinius was contacted by someone before dying, and—"

He raises a hand, alarmed, before I can continue. He mutters a few words, and I can feel a bubble envelop us.

"Now," he motions.

"Someone got in touch with him, and they wanted to talk to me. Who is it?"

I see Aemilianus not hiding a frown and scratching the small beard stubble on his face.

"They wanted to talk to him?" He mumbles. "Do you know – well, do you mind telling me – about what?"

"Something about the Dungeon," I say.

Aemilianus stays silent for a moment before shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, I actually don't know. Rotten roots, this continent is always involved in one plot or another, isn't it? I know that the Royals are peddling a lot of dirt—that I know for sure, even though I don't have the specific dirt on your friend."

"Dirt?" I raise an eyebrow.

"That's the kind of information that could get you killed as soon as you turn a corner," Aemilianus replies.

"Jesus Christ, must everyone be this mysterious?" I growl.

"Who else was?" He asks curiously.

I shake my head, "never mind. It's... are you sure about the Royals? I can't picture the [Princess] being involved in the killing of—"

"Oh, no," he stops me, "not the [Princess]. She's definitely not fully on the Royals' agenda."

"Why would the Royal Family want to kill Plinius, then? Can you tell me that?"

"My best guess is that whatever the reason for this [Captain]’s meteoritic promotion, it was tied to a mission that went against the interests of the Royal Family."

"But they framed me?" I ask, confused.

"Because they knew the [Princess] had already met you," he says. "They wanted the [Princess] here with you, probably hatingyou even more. Why else would they want the direct heir to the throne humiliating herself next to a Human?"

"I thought they weren't racist?"

Aemilianus actually bursts out laughing and holding his belly so theatrically that, for a moment, I think he's mocking me.

"Rotten roots of the World's Tree!" He wheezes. "So people really believe that?"

Aemilianus shakes his head and props his hands on his knees before inhaling deeply, "man, I see why you would be confused, then. No, Joey, the Royal Family is a bunch of treacherous, speciesist cunts."

I recoil at those words.

Then, I recoil twice because I know something that hedoesn't know.

Shit, if that's true, I really need a word with Stan, I think to myself, feeling my heart accelerate.

"Oh, you know something?" He sees my paling and puts two and two together.

"Yeah," I nod. "Aemilianus, one last question for now: why are you telling me this? What do you want from me?"

"I don't have many—well, I don't really have friends in general. I rarely meet someone who seems smart and crazy enough to do the kind of rotten, crazy things you have done. Plus, my family hates Humans andme. My hater's enemy is my friend, no?"

"It sounds good, but it doesn't sound like the complete picture," I say with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm a [Scholar], not just an [Archmage], Joey," Aemilianus says with a smile. "You broke a few centuries worth of theories on Enchanting, made the [Light Mage] class allegedly strong again—and if you don't know how crazy that is, let it just be known that people not less talented than me have tried this at the Nine Towers Academy, following some crazy prophecy about the ultimate magic... and you, out of all people, are figuring out all of it on your own. I would like to witness it up close if you don't mind. And, if you accept, I could be a valuable ally."

I look at the man who seems like he's fallen out of the sky, and I can feel a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "I'll see you at the party, then."

"I'm not invited, though," he smiles.

"I'm sure that's not going to stop you," I wink at the man, about to turn away, when I feel him grab my arm.

"Aren't you interested in what I have to say about your magic situation?"

He slowly releases my arm as I shake my head.

"I'm not in a rush," I smile confidently. "Magic is not everything."

...

"Hey, Fulvia, I'm here to pick up the orders," I say with a smile.

Yeah, I made a little purchase right before going into training mode.

When the woman opens the door, however, I can see she's quite spooked and quickly ushers me in. As soon as my feet have crossed the door, she slams it close.

"What—" before I can ask any questions, she puts a hand up and takes a big breath.

"Joey, you should leave," she says cryptically.

"Leave... the shop?"

"The city."

I look at Fulvia for a second and narrow my eyes, trying to understand why she'd even say that. What could she be afraid of? Or maybe, who—

"Marcella," I say. "You're really afraid of Marcella, aren't you?"

Her lips quiver, but she doesn't change her facial expression.

She knows stuff, and if she tells me more... would she get hurt?

"Fulvia," I clear my voice, "is my order ready?"

She fidgets with her pudgy hands before nodding.

"Alright, then," I say, fishing out some gold from my pocket.

She waves her hands at me, "Don't."

"You don't want money?" I frown.

"Joey, you—no. Keep your money."

I take a big breath as I see her running off to the back, and I bite my lips.

If there were any [Assassins] in here, would I be able to spot them?

I don't turn to look at any particular spot, but I do feel watched in here.

Worst fucking time possible to lose access to magic—right when I could really use an anti-[Scry] spell.

I growl internally.

Old man! Where are you, you old sack of dirt!?

I brace for the typical electrical discharge, but nothing happens.

Old man! You suck! The Vanedeni stink! The book is stupid! I won't cast a spell ever again!

I brace myself even harder, but then...

Nothing.

Nothing comes my way.

"Holy shit," I mumble, perhaps having underestimated whatever has happened.

Where is the old man?

Why did I lose my memories of this week and… wait!

I plunge my hand into my bag of holding, remembering that I felt something in there that I had never felt before. It's leathery.

When I find it, I pull out a gigantic hat from my bag of holding right when Fulvia comes back.

"ROTTEN ROOTS! IS THAT DRAGON LEATHER?!"

I see the woman pale as she stares, terrified at the hat I have in my hand.

"PUT IT AWAY! PUT IT AWAY IMMEDIATELY!"

So I put the hat back in my bag of holding, even more confused than when I first set foot in the shop.

Fulvia deposits multiple packaged garments on the counter and then looks at me with a consternated expression.

"They say Dragons can sense their slain kin’s skin when it is used for those things! A Dragon would kill you on the spot if they saw you with it! Where, in all the rotten roots of the World's Tree, did you find it?!"

"I didn't find it," I frown. "I think someone gave it to me."