Chapter 146
After Bahamut went into the Babel tower with Demeter for the Denatus meeting, Draco found himself with approximately three hours of free time.
‘How do I kill time until the meeting is over?’ he pondered.
After considering various options, he made a snap decision to return home quickly to grab his cloak.
Now alone, he had become increasingly self-conscious about the curious stares he received from strangers, which made him even more uncomfortable.
With his unique features—thick horns jutting from his head and a long, black, scaly tail—he felt like a spectacle rather than a person.
Although it was late evening, the fading light did little to mask his distinct appearance.
‘I can’t believe Bahamut had to endure this constantly, no wonder she didn’t like going out often’ he thought.
Upon arriving home, Draco swiftly collected his trusty cloak, relishing its familiar weight as it settled around his shoulders and head.
Although still goofy looking with the bunny ears, he felt it provided him a degree of anonymity and comfort, despite the same amount of attention being placed on him.
Next, he made his way to the Nekomata Inn's stable to drop off the carriage and hitch the horses.
Navigating through the bustling streets with a carriage felt cumbersome, especially when he desired a sense of freedom during his stroll.
Before continuing his journey, Draco took a moment to greet the innkeeper, who was busy tending to the counter.
“Oh, Draco! You’re back so soon!” she exclaimed.
The innkeeper had been quite shocked when Draco reintroduced himself earlier that day.
She had previously known him simply as the peculiar boy who always wore a cloak, but now he presented himself as a young man adorned with thick horns and a long, black scaly tail.
“Draco nii!” called a small, adorable voice. Cleo, the innkeeper’s youngest daughter, dashed over and clutched his leg tightly, looking up at him with wide, sparkling eyes.
With a gentle lift, Draco scooped her into his arms, feeling the warmth of her small frame against him.
“Cleo, you’ve grown so much,” he said, lightly ruffling her hair with his free hand.
Her fluffy cat ears were delightful to play with, evoking a sense of nostalgia for him.
His own step-sisters had similar features, but they rarely allowed him to touch them, knowing how much he enjoyed the tactile interaction.
Draco had been surprised, Cleo had not shown any fear of his appearance, when he reintroduced himself earlier in the day.
In fact, she was the first to recognize him despite barely ever seeing his real appearance.
“What are you talking about? We met earlier in the day! How could I have grown within that time?” she replied, her brows furrowing in a cute expression of confusion.
“Ah, my bad! Just felt like the right thing to say,” Draco laughed, giving her a light tickle on her side, eliciting a fit of laughter from her.
‘She is so much more talkative now. What on earth did my sisters do to this girl?’ Draco mused.
When he had met Cleo around four months ago, she was a shy little girl, hesitant to engage with others and lacking in friends.
Now, however, her energy was almost overwhelming, and it was evident that the innkeeper was at her wits' end trying to keep up with Cleo’s newfound exuberance.
“St…op, please!” Cleo gasped, nearly breathless from laughter.
“I can hardly breathe!” she pleaded.
“Alright, now run off and help your sisters in the kitchen. I have somewhere else to go,” Draco said, gently placing her back on the ground.
“Are you leaving already?” she asked, her little hands gripping his pants in a desperate attempt to keep him there, her big feline eyes wide and pleading.
‘Ugh, those darn girls must have taught her this,’ Draco thought, nearly succumbing to her charm.
The innkeeper watched the exchange with amusement, happy to see her daughter so joyful.
“We will see each other later, so don’t be sad,” Draco consoled, and reluctantly, Cleo let go, trusting him.
No one from the Bahamut familia had ever lied to her, and that established bond provided her the reassurance she needed.
With a quick farewell to the innkeeper, Draco stepped out into the evening twilight.
He took a leisurely walk along the western road, his mind wandering to various thoughts—until he passed the Hostess of Fertility, a well-known pub in Orario.
His heart raced with the idea of entering.
He had been avoiding this establishment, mainly due to his apprehension about running into Syr, who had connections to Freya.
But today was different; with Denatus underway, Freya would be occupied, offering him a rare opportunity to visit without her presence looming over him.
Draco’s interest in visiting the Hostess of Fertility was twofold.
Not only did he want to try out the delicious food, but he also sought to see if there were any strange rumours about himself or the Bahamut familia.
He understood all too well that leaving reputation to public speculation could lead to wild exaggerations and misunderstandings.
This tavern was frequented by adventurers, and with the owner Mia—a strong, half-retired adventurer—on the premises, it was unlikely that trouble would arise.
‘Sigh, I hope trouble doesn’t find me today,’ Draco thought.
He then stepped inside, the door creaking softly.
The warm ambiance was welcoming, filled with the laughter and chatter of adventurers unwinding after a long day.
A young cat girl with short brown hair and similar feline features greeted him.
“Welcome!” she said cheerfully, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Draco recognized her immediately as Anya Fromel.
“Nya, is something on my face?” Anya asked, noticing he had been staring for too long.
“Sorry about that; you just looked a bit similar to someone I know,” he replied, immediately feeling a tad embarrassed for staring.
“Oh?” Anya tilted her head, her expression curious as she wondered who it could be.
“Draco nii, over here!” a familiar voice called out, pulling his attention away from Anya.
He turned to find Clair, Dimitra, Eleni, and Vasiliki all seated at a table piled high with various dishes.
‘What on earth are they doing here?’ Draco thought, taken aback.
He had specifically instructed them to linger near the city western gate in case anything went awry during the Denatus meeting that Bahamut, their goddess, was attending.
“Will you be seated with them?” Anya asked, noticing Draco’s familiarity with them.
“Yes,” he replied, and Anya led him to the table where his companions were gathered.
Then she took his order before departing.
“Before you complain about anything, this place isn’t far and is a straight line to the city gates,” Vasiliki interjected before Draco could voice his concerns.
He had to concede that Vasiliki had a valid point.
In actuality, he hadn’t explicitly forbidden them from enjoying a meal at a pub, so he couldn’t be too upset.
“Sigh, where are the boys?” Draco asked, scanning the pub to see if he could spot any familiar faces among the various groups of adventurers dining and drinking.
“They’re in another pub closer to the gates,” Dimitra responded.
Draco couldn’t shake the feeling that he had warned them against this establishment in the past.
Yet, as he reflected on it, he realized he might have imagined those warnings.
He wasn’t truly angry at his sisters for enjoying themselves; rather, he felt frustrated with himself for being overly paranoid and failing to plan adequately.
If he had thought things through, he would have realized that simply loitering around the city gates could make them appear suspicious, while casually hanging out in a lively pub would draw far less attention.
‘Sigh, I could really use a cold drink right now,’ Draco thought, rubbing his temples as a headache began to form from overthinking.
“Did you perhaps go home, Draco nii? I remember you leaving without your cloak. You were saying something about revealing yourself or whatnot,” Vasiliki asked, tilting her head in curiosity.
‘Ugh, I can’t exactly tell them that I felt uncomfortable being stared at by everyone on the road, so I chickened out,’ Draco thought, caught off guard by Vasiliki’s question.
“Uhm…” he started, but before he could formulate a response, Anya returned, placing his meal order on the table.
“Thank you,” he said, trying to shake off his earlier thoughts as he set his meal down.