Chapter 377
It was already past eleven when Draco, Aasterinian, and Bahamut were forced to leave the Hostess of Fertility, along with the last few drunk patrons.
The sky was now a bruised canvas of grey, and a cool breeze, carrying the scent of impending rain, billowed against their clothing, tugging at cloaks and hair.
Today, the pub had decided to close a bit early, less out of choice and more out of necessity, having run bone-dry of nearly all its supplies.
“Please come back!” Mama Mia’s booming voice cut through the street’s nascent quiet, echoing from the bar’s doorway.
She waved ferociously, an ecstatic grin plastered across her usually stern face, her eyes gleaming with the triumph of a well-executed heist.
Due to Draco’s incredibly ill-advised promise to pay for the drinks of all patrons that evening, the Hostess of Fertility had earned a small fortune.
Standing on the porch just outside the pub’s oaken doors, Draco turned back, offering a polite, if somewhat strained, smile and a wave.
Internally, however, he was fuming, a slow, simmering rage building in his gut.
‘Never again will I do such a thing’ he vowed, the silent promise etched in his mind like a grim commandment.
‘Never. Ever. Again.’
He had spectacularly underestimated his fellow adventurers' capacity for imbibing.
In his head, a simple, logical calculation had envisioned around five drinks per person for the lightweights, perhaps a generous ten for the heavy drinkers.
A manageable sum, he’d believed.
Oh, how wrong he had been.
The reality was a monstrous, thirst-quenching spree where each person, without exception, had guzzled at least twelve mugs of ale, often more.
And there weren’t just a few dozen; there were over a hundred adventurers packed into that lively, now empty, establishment.
With the Hostess of Fertility’s notoriously inflated prices……a premium for the atmosphere, Mama Mia’s 'charm,' and the sheer fact that it was one of the best places in Orario…..the final bill had not merely been expensive; it had been an unholy gouge.
To compound the already ridiculously extravagant total, some adventurers, upon realizing their drinks were free, had unashamedly left, only to return minutes later, dragging along friends, acquaintances, and even complete strangers, further inflating the bill into astronomical figures.
‘That damn Loki’ Draco cursed silently for the tenth time that hour, his jaw clenching.
Perhaps out of sheer spite for her earlier, rather public argument with Bahamut, the trickster goddess had opted for a more subtle, yet equally devastating, form of attack against him.
She had egged on her entire Familia, urging her children to drink until they nearly passed out, their exuberance turning into a competitive gulping contest.
Thankfully, the Loki Familia, had left the pub somewhat abruptly around nine, called away on some, undoubtedly dubious errand.
Had they stayed, Draco was certain he would have had to sell a horn or two to cover the tab.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Draco forced the molten core of his frustration back into the metaphorical forge of his composure.
He turned his attention to his two companions, Aasterinian and Bahamut, who were leaning heavily against him, their collective weight threatening to buckle his knees.
As dragon goddesses, normal alcohol rarely affected them beyond a mild buzz.
However, the true reason for their current state of lethargy wasn't the ale; it was the sheer, mind-boggling amount of meat they had consumed.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that, between them, they had devoured the mass equivalent of two whole cows, along with several hogs and a small flock of roasted pheasants.
It was a wonder if the Hostess of Fertility would even have enough protein to open over the next few days.
“I guess even dragon goddesses don’t have bottomless stomachs after all,” Draco teased, a wry smile finally touching his lips, the earlier anger temporarily forgotten in the face of their delightful gluttony.
Aasterinian and Bahamut, offended by the remark despite their sluggish states, mustered enough energy to lazily lash their powerful tails against his buttocks.
“Ouch!” Draco yelped dramatically, stifling a laugh as he gently steered the two half-comatose goddesses off the porch and into the cobblestone street.
They didn’t even make it two steps when Draco felt a cool, solitary droplet against his outstretched hand.
Within a few seconds, that single drop multiplied, becoming a deluge as the heavens opened, a torrential downpour forcing the trio to retreat back to the relative shelter of the porch.
The wind picked up, howling through the narrow street, sending sheets of rain slanting across the flickering lamplight.
“Why now of all times?” Draco cursed, rubbing his temples in exasperation.
It was bad enough that he had spent a ridiculous amount of money on strangers, strangers who probably wouldn't even remember his generosity tomorrow.
Now, Mother Nature had decided to add insult to injury with a full-blown cloudburst.
Aasterinian and Bahamut, too, didn’t seem pleased with the sudden turn in the weather.
After eating so much, a slow, lazy walk home, allowing their stomachs to settle and their minds to wander, would have been the perfect remedy to soothe their overfull bellies.
But now it was raining, and the prospect of a pleasant stroll was utterly ruined.
Bahamut let out a low growl, a rumble that vibrated through Draco’s chest.
“So, what do we do?” Aasterinian asked, leaning her head against Draco’s shoulder, her eyes half-closed.
“Well, home isn’t far from here, maybe a ten-minute walk,” Draco mused, weighing their options.
“So, we can either make a run for it and get thoroughly soaked, or I can use my wind magic to carry us there.”
“What’s the difference?” Aasterinian mumbled, her voice thick with exhaustion.
“Running will get us wet, and I mean the kind of wet with water, not, you know…” Draco trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Bahamut, despite her weariness, let out a dry, surprisingly throaty chuckle that turned into a rumbling purr.
“Using my magic, on the other hand, means no getting wet during the journey and is much faster,” Draco continued, ignoring the goddesses' amusement.
“But it will pull a lot of attention, and we’ll still get a little wet after I land in the garden. The front of the house is a bit too narrow, and I don’t want to damage anything trying to navigate an aerial landing there.”
“So, either way, we get wet, but it depends on how wet we want to get?” Bahamut said, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips, her eyes finally opening slightly to focus on Draco.
“Yes, but we are still talking about the rain, right?” Draco inquired, a wary glint in his own eyes, knowing full well where Bahamut’s teasing often led.
“Of course,” Bahamut purred, her smirk widening.
“Unless you had other thoughts, Draco?”
“Ugh, annoying couple,” Aasterinian muttered, shifting her weight, as Draco and Bahamut burst out into soft, knowing laughter.
“Anyway, the answer is easy, right? Use your magic to get us home,” Aasterinian declared, her patience clearly at an end.
“I just want to go to bed.”
“Alright, alright, fair enough,” Draco answered, nodding.
“Brace yourselves.”
As he spoke, a subtle change began.
His obsidian black scales started taking on a faint, iridescent green hue, shimmering faintly in the dim light.
A low hum emanated from him, growing into a distinctive whistle as a large ball of swirling air began to circulate around him, creating a small, localized commotion in the otherwise empty streets.
Dust and stray leaves swirled upward, dancing in the artificial tempest.
Inside the Hostess of Fertility, the two waitresses, Anya and Luniore, who were still cleaning up the lingering mess, watched the scene from the window in awe.
The powerful wind around Draco repelled the rain, creating a shimmering, invisible barrier against the raging, chilly air outside.
The sound of the wind was a low roar, yet contained, focused.
“That looks fun… nya,” Anya chirped, her tail twitching in excitement.
“Hmm,” Luniore acknowledged, her eyes narrowed slightly, her expression unreadable.
Luniore had tried her best to be as scarce as possible that evening, especially to avoid Bahamut. She still vividly recalled the day, five years ago, when she and Chloe had been caught by Bahamut after they had foolishly tried kidnapping an injured Draco.
The memory still sent a shiver down her spine.
The girls didn’t get to watch much longer, however, as Mama Mia’s voice bellowed from the back, ensuring no one was slacking off.
Oblivious to their audience, Draco pulled the two massive, still-groggy goddesses closer to his sides.
With a powerful surge of wind, he shot upwards, a green-tinted streak against the black, stormy sky.
The sensation was exhilarating, a controlled rush as the wind bore them aloft, the city lights shrinking beneath them, the rain a distant patter against the invisible shield of his magic.
Within a few heartbeats, they were already back home.
The magic lamps in their sprawling garden automatically flickered on, sensing their arrival, casting soft pools of light on the rain-slicked foliage as Draco expertly guided their descent to a gentle landing.
Upon touching down, the trio, slightly disoriented but mostly dry, quickly dashed for the backdoor, eager to escape the lingering chill and the final few droplets that splattered against them.
Draco fumbled with his keys, the metal cold against his fingertips, before finally unlocking the back door and pushing it open.
They stepped into the large, brightly lit kitchen, the warmth of their home a welcome contrast to the stormy night outside.
“Phew, what a day,” Draco mused, shaking his head, sending droplets of water flying.
He peeled off his slightly damp shirt, tossing it onto a nearby chair.
The two goddesses weren’t bothered in the slightest by his action; they had, after all, seen everything there was to see.
Bahamut, during their intimate night the previous day, and Aasterinian, during his complete transformation from a juvenile to an adult dragon-kin.
“Yeah, it really was an eventful day,” Aasterinian agreed, stifling a yawn as she grabbed a mop from the utility closet to dry the few puddles they had tracked in.
Bahamut, on the other hand, stood by the kitchen island, her eyes having caught something.
She held a small, intricately sealed envelope in her hand, its crimson wax stamp still intact.
“What’s that?” Draco asked curiously, his attention drawn to the letter.
“Nothing serious, just an invitation I forgot about,” Bahamut replied, her voice tinged with a familiar weariness.
“Sent by Ganesha.”
“Bleh… Ganesha,” Aasterinian shuddered, the mop clattering slightly against the floor.
The name alone seemed to conjure up unpleasant memories, recalling an “incident” five years ago she’d rather forget.
“What’s the invitation about?” Draco asked, genuinely intrigued, as he poured a glass of water, his mind already connecting dots from his foreknowledge of this world.
“He’s hosting a party for deities tomorrow night,” Bahamut replied, flinging the envelope back onto the counter with a dismissive flick of her wrist.
“You don’t seem very interested,” Draco observed, noting her disinterest.
“It’s not that I don’t like parties, Draco, you know I enjoy a good celebration,” Bahamut clarified, sighing.
“But there are so many freaky, annoying, and often downright perverted deities who always attend these events. The last time, Hermes tried to convince me that the ‘true meaning of life’ could be found while wearing a toga made entirely of grapes. I’d much rather avoid that kind of interaction if I can.” Aasterinian nodded vigorously in agreement, her shuddering intensifying.
“I see,” Draco said, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“But wouldn’t that mean Hephaestus, Demeter, and a few other of your acquaintances would also attend? You wouldn’t want to leave them in the paws of those weird deities, would you?”
He didn’t really think much of the party in terms of Bahamut’s safety, knowing that even without her arcanum, very few beings in this world could pose a genuine threat to her.
But he knew how to appeal to her protective instincts, especially for those she considered friends.
“Hmm, you make a fair point…” Bahamut mused, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Hestia, in particular, is kind of an easy mark for those types.”
“Oh, she’s attending too?” Draco asked, a flicker of recognition in his mind.
He recalled a similar scene from the original timeline of the world, another pivotal moment.
‘If I remember correctly, this should be around the time Hestia desperately begs Hephaestus to forge Bell his special weapon’ Draco thought, a idea already beginning to form in his mind.
This could be a good opportunity to inquire about crafting some for familia.
“Yeah, she’ll definitely come, considering how broke she is right now,” Bahamut said, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she pictured the small, perpetually impoverished goddess.
“She’ll probably be hoping for free food and maybe a hand-me-down from Demeter.”
“Are you going, Asta?” Bahamut asked, turning to Aasterinian, who was now drying her impressively long hair with a towel, her pale blue strands shimmering.
“Hmmm, why not?” Aasterinian replied after a moment of contemplation, shrugging her shoulders.
“Seems like a fun event, might as well see what kind of chaos happens this time.”
“Great! Then we can go shopping tomorrow for outfits!” Bahamut declared, a spark of excitement finally entering her eyes, the thought of new clothes momentarily eclipsing her earlier aversion.
“Hmm,” Aasterinian replied, a faint smile gracing her lips, clearly pleased with the prospect.
After drying up a bit more, Aasterinian went to her room on the first floor, leaving a faint scent of perfume in her wake.
Draco and Bahamut, meanwhile, made their way to Bahamut’s room on the third floor.
They took a long, relaxing bath together, washing away the remnants of the long day, before finally hopping into their massive, luxuriously soft bed.
Bahamut, still deep in the throes of her food coma, quickly fell asleep, a contented purr rumbling softly in her chest.
Draco, however, stared at the ceiling for a while longer, his mind whirring.
‘Tomorrow, I have to pay a visit to the guild and maybe retrieve my Firebirds from the Ganesha familia’ he thought.
Thinking of the stoic wolf girl, Rose, who worked at the guild, Draco couldn’t help but wonder how she would react upon seeing him again.
They hadn't exactly parted on positive terms five years ago.
He had left rather abruptly, without much explanation.
“Hopefully, she isn’t too mad at me,” Draco muttered softly into the quiet room, a faint sense of nervousness coiling in his gut as he finally coaxed himself to sleep.
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