The Last Primal

Chapter 389 - 389 - Misplaced Superiority

"Your Majest-"

"Don't. Please, just call me Aiden. I don't know who this figure you are confusing me with is." Before the dwarven blacksmith could finish, Aiden spoke up. With a slight frown on his face, he explained again, hoping to finally clear up this confusion.

However, the dwarf, Gluri shook his head.

"I cannot, your majesty. You are a dragon, perhaps the last remaining member! You may not know because of this, but we dwarves revere your kind… Dragons are like gods, the natural-born leaders of our race. Legends say we were created by the Ancient Dragons of the past to be their servants!"

The blacksmith managed to grab Aiden's attention with the mentioning of his exact race. Still, from the way he phrased it, it felt like he wasn't certain about Aiden's exact kind, but only the fact that he was 'supposed' to be a dragon. 

"Created by Ancient Dragons? That's quite a wild tale…" He muttered with a wry-looking smile. He then looked at his sister who was now once again ignoring whatever was going on and was patting the heads of her dogs instead.

"Anyway!" The old dwarf clapped his large hands. His smile was a bright contrast to his surly demeanor just a few moments ago. "What can this old blacksmith do for you all?"

—

Sometime later, the team finally left the Gluri Wyvernslayer's the funny named dwarven blacksmith's workshop. 

Still, puzzled by the fact that how could a dwarf be allowed to set up the shop, Drake and Scarlet were mostly silent through the whole ordeal. Drake really wanted to ask the old master about how was he here, but as he already tried twice without any luck, he managed to whole his burning curiosity back and just remain in the background.

For Aiden, he didn't really care how or what trickery this old man had used, what he focused on was to get the right armament for his team members. For Galina, he got something called a 'Runic Mace', a one-handed war hammer inscribed with a few dwarven sigils, mostly to increase its sturdiness. 

For Lily, she got a quiver full of arrows made by the dwarven master and something that vaguely resembled the brass knuckles, but instead of being obvious and bluntly presented, it was made into gloves. Its material was also quite strange, as it was clearly not metal, but something similar in terms of strength. It was wyvern scales!

As Drake, like him, did not want to use any other weapon than his artifact, Mort, only his sister, Scarlet got a pair of new daggers, as he was still relying on the one she 'borrowed' from Sara.

They also had to force some payment on the dwarf as he was adamant to gift everything saying that it would be his way of apologizing for his previous behavior. Still, after some back-and-forth, they paid a measly 1gold and 50 silver coins for what was probably worth hundreds if not thousands of gold.

After escaping from Gluri's workshop and promising to return when they can, the rest of their afternoon shopping spree went relatively cleanly and without any significant troubles. Although some brave (and quite idiotic) guys tried their luck with the ladies (even the shy and masked Galina had to suffer through a few brazen attempts), they eventually got everything they planned to get, and as the sky began to darken, they found their way back in front of the inn. 

Standing in front of the wooden structure, a group of youngsters wearing brand new-looking, dark brown, reinforced, studded leather armors beneath their usual clothing could be seen.

With heavy, somber looks on their faces, they looked at the entrance, hesitant, quite reluctant to step inside and embrace its warmth. The chitter-chatter that escaped through the cracks and windows, were not so inviting anymore, instead, it served as another layer of discomfort, further fueling their disinclination.

They knew that they should look for a new place, but they had no time so far today.

It was clear that their relationship with the innkeeper and his wife was chaotic at best, but still… This place was the best in terms of service, food quality, and distance. Truth be told, Aiden didn't really want to switch.

Still, with a sigh, Aiden stepped forward and pushed on the door, the team following shortly after him.

As soon as their familiar silhouettes appeared on the doorway and their gazes met with the innkeeper serving some drinks to the tired adventurer's standing at the counter, a look of worry flashed through the aged host's eyes for a brief moment before he managed to give a slight nod and return his attention to the job at hand.

Aiden could only sigh at this. 

"Brother… I think we should…"

"Yes, I know. We are not welcome here anymore." Aiden nodded, understanding his sister's concern. 

Still, they spent their day refilling their stocks, getting new equipment, potions, and new tools they were way too spent to look for a new place to settle. They decided to spend one last night, battle the heavy stares of the crowd and look for a new place tomorrow, before taking on the quest and venturing the unexplored underground.

While the guys looked for a quieter table somewhere away from the prying eyes, Aiden forced a smile on his face and walked towards the counter. Strangely, his usual calmness was not present this time. He felt a heavier push, a pressure in his heart as he looked at the old barkeep.

As he arrived at the battered counter he could feel the presence of another behind the door at the back, causing his stomach to churn and twist once again. He sighed, forcefully controlling his agitation, and looked at the busy elder who, although probably noticed his presence, was serving a loud and haughty group refilling their mugs with beers.

However, maybe because of his presence, the old man's hand shook, dropping the wooden mug on the counter and spilling its foamy, golden-brown nectar over the rough-looking short-black-haired man.

"What the…" For a brief moment, the man looked with confusion and disbelief over his own self, before his face swiftly contorted into anger, and shifted his attention to the shocked and shaking elderly man behind the counter.

"I-I-I am s-s-sorry, S-sir!" He stuttered, trying to apologize, albeit futilely. The short black-haired man reached out, grabbing the aged innkeeper by his collar, and pulled him closer.

"What's the deal, you bastard?!" He bellowed. His friends or goonies were slowly spreading around him, they formed a small ring amidst the spectators. Meanwhile, the black-haired man pulled the slim, skinny old man over the counter and threw him on the ground at the center of the newly formed ring.

The old man, instead of being rightfully offended by the harsh and vicious actions of this unknown figure, instead knelt down and groveled in front of the ferociously grinning man.

"I apologize for my mistake! I-"

Before he could finish, a foot flew into his side, kicking him back several steps and forcing him to cough up a handful of blood. 

"GROVEL YOU BASTARD! BEG FOR YOUR LIFE FOR OFFENDING THIS MASTER!" The coarse-looking man bellowed with a mixture of rage and a cruel, vicious smirk stretching across his face. He clearly enjoyed humiliating this poor, helpless man.

He stepped closer to the coughing barkeep trying to push himself off from the ground. Looking down at him, he slowly raised his right leg above his head, his lips contorted revealing his cruel, nasty nature.

"You worthless sh*t, are you aware that I could stomp you to death and nobody would care?! Do you know how worthless, how meaningless you-"

"I wouldn't continue that if I were you."

His hateful, victorious speech was abruptly interrupted. The sound, that seemed lifely, deeper-toned came from behind.

"WHO DARES?!" The man, annoyed by the newcomer bellowed and turned around. He saw a lean, but relatively tall, young man, with long, silky black hair and strange, unique eyes staring back at him at the front of the crowd. The youngster had a distasteful frown on his face as he eyed him.

"You?! How dare you, a little weakling interrupt me?!" He roared, his anger reaching new heights. Being continuously offended, he, who should be revered, was having an increasingly hard time processing what was going on. 

Just arriving at this backwater, boring town because of his Lord's orders… Being forced to serve under another with his battalion for some worthless game, he was already on the edge.

He signaled with the two closest of his men as he roared. "Throw him in. I will teach that brat a lesson along with this old corpse dweller!"

With that he turned around, ignoring the youth, and once again shifting his attention on the innkeeper first.

However, before he could continue with his speech, suddenly two familiar, but painful cries rang from behind him.

Alerted, he spans around again, only to be shocked at what greeted him. Two burly men, his men, were sprawled on the ground, their faces caved in, unconscious or maybe in a worse state. Standing over them, the 'weakling' youngster, with an eerie-looking smile stretched across his face.