Chapter 120: Dragon Fart
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Party time!

What I had in mind when I mentioned my skills to Blaine was [Painless Agony] in particular. Frankly, the skill had to go. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that it was just taking up space among my Class Skills, space I could fill with a more useful skill. Plus, from all the information I’ve picked up, this should be a skill easily replaced by General Skills.

The question was, which one? Blaine named me a few, and they were just the ones he named off the top of his head. 

[Pain Resistance]

[Reduction of Pain]

[Blissful Numbness]

[Pleasure of Ache]

Even without him going into detail and from their names alone, it wasn’t hard to guess the difference in the nature of these skills. Some sounded like too much...

“Though if you want to hear honest advice from me,” Blaine said when I expected him to tell me more about the skills. “...don’t take any.” 

W-what kind of bullshit was he saying? That I should keep [Painless Agony]? Or was he telling me to forget the pain-reducing skills altogether?

Seeing me, he raised his eyebrows and smirked. “That’s how most people react. Like I’m full of shit. But hear me out. First of all, pain serves as a warning that something is wrong with our bodies, and it doesn’t matter if it’s a pulled muscle, a minor abrasion, or a severed leg. If you take the skill, you’re pretty much ignoring the warning. Stupid, if I may say so.”

“What about perception skills? I can easily sense my injuries with them. Even seeing them in more detail than I would have liked.”

“Good point, you can. Actually, good perception is a must. I can’t speak for your skill, but the truth is most perception skills at higher tiers allow you to perceive the inside of your body as well. That or you can learn it yourself. Regardless of the case or skill, it means constantly sacrificing some of your focus on yourself. 

“Think about it. You’ll get your pain-reducing skill to the point where you can just choose to completely ignore the pain. Great, right? Then don’t be surprised if you find yourself in a fight wondering why your hand isn’t hitting your enemy, who blew it off without you even noticing. Not so great anymore, is it?”

Surely that was an exaggeration. No one couldn’t be that stupid, could they? Either way, I saw what he meant.

“No, it’s better to feel the pain and just focus on the injury instead of the whole body and only when you suffer it.

“Still doesn’t pain hinder you in battle? I’ve experienced pain that clouded my mind.”

“Then fight it with your mental skill. You’ve got [Indomitable Will] at a decent level, so use it.”

“That’s doable?”

“In a sense, pain is an attack on your mind, a very specific one, but it is. So why wouldn’t it be doable? Of course, it takes some practice, like everything.”

Now that he mentioned all that, a few examples came to mind that a strong will could work miracles. Back on Earth, I heard about a mother lifting a car to save her child. Some were able to regulate their body temperature with a mere thought, and others could keep their hand over the candle flame. Will was a powerful tool.

I still had one last argument in favor of pain reduction skills, though. They had to add some specific bonuses and abilities that other skills didn’t. When I asked, Blaine nodded.

“You can choose to ignore the pain completely. That’s the main thing. Then some resistances here and there. Depends on the skill. Yeah, and then mostly some aspects of the Constitution, or the Constitution itself.”

“Ah...I don’t think I need more of it.”

“That makes two of us,” Blaine said, looking toward the entrance of the Drunken Filly. “Come on, stop worrying about skills, Korra. Tonight’s your night, and I think we kept those ungrateful bastards waiting long enough.”

Not long enough, in my opinion, but further delaying the inevitable wouldn’t help anything. So I took a deep breath, checked on Sage to make sure I wasn’t walking with my tail tucked between my legs, and with a silent apology choked off mana flow to him. With that done, ready as I could be, I followed Blaine into the rowdy inn.

The moment we walked in, dozens of heads turned to us. 

“Lieutenant, you brought a chick with you?” the guardsman sitting at the nearest table asked bluntly. Although he addressed Blaine by rank, here at the inn the lines of officialdom seemed to have been pushed back a little.

“Are you blind? That’s her, the one I told you about,” pointed out his drinking buddy.

“Her?” he asked back, not hiding the disappointment in his voice. “You made her sound like a huge beast. She looks like a...terran to me.”

“If you’d listened, I told you she could turn into one!”

“Don’t mind them,” Blaine told me and continued to the bar without giving them any kind of answer. Following his lead, I ignored the pair and followed in his footsteps.

“Ah, Lieutenant Blaine, I didn’t expect to see you here today...” said the well-groomed woman in a neatly ironed uniform standing behind the bar as we found two open bar stools. Well, Blaine did.

[Bartender: lvl 124]

Wow, with her level, I’d expect to see her in an establishment closer to the city’s center. The fact that the owner could afford to hire someone like her spoke for itself about the lucrativeness of the place. At the Broken Mug, it was just the innkeeper and his daughter.

Just as I looked at her, she looked at me.

“...and you must be the one the guys and gals are talking about tonight. Congrats, first drink on the house. What’ll it be?”

“It should have been my round!” Blaine argued.

“Sorry, Lieutenant, but you know the ways here. So...?”

He gave me an apologetic look. “I’ll still owe you a drink, then,” he said, and then he glanced at the bartender. “Two Dragon Farts.”

“Are you sure? You know how some of those who overestimated their strength ended up?” she asked in a whisper as he leaned towards him, making me question the nature of the drink.

“The lady needs it to shake off her nervousness. And trust me, she can take it.”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it, Lieutenant,” she said and then shouted to the whole inn, “Two Dragon Farts!”

The whole room erupted in cheers at that moment, which made my ears hurt like hell, and a good portion of the patrons flocked to the bar to see the idiot who dared to challenge the drink without knowing what she was actually drinking.

“You too?” I raised my voice to drown out the others.

“Constitution may not be my main stat, but you’ll hardly find anyone at my level with less than yours. Skills...” Blain said, not finishing his sentence as the two glasses landed in front of us.

Honestly, from what I’ve heard so far, I was expecting a vile-looking tincture. Bubbling potion, rising fumes, and spatter that burned the wood of the bar top. The drink looked mundane, yellow in color, and without fumes.

“A bit of advice. Don’t sniff at it. Down it all at once,” Blaine said, picking up his glass, waiting for me to do the same. To the crowd’s cheers, I raised my drink while heeding his advice and resisted the urge to smell it.

A slight, genuine smile crossed his face. “To your class evolution, Korra!”

Then he downed the glass, and I, braving my fears, did the same. 

At first, I didn’t feel a thing, no specific taste, nothing to set off my warning bells. If anything, it was the smell that got into my nose while swallowing the drink despite my best efforts and made me wince. True to its name, the drink stank like a fart, a nasty one. 

It wasn’t until a few heartbeats later that a pleasant warmth spread through my mouth and throat. The next moment warmth turned into a burning pain, and it wasn’t just a feeling. Seriously, it burned my sinuses like acid, and I lost the taste on my tongue.

Sending immediately mana into the damaged areas, I struggled to keep the tears at bay and not start screaming.

  • You were poisoned

Yeah, no shit! This would be banned on Earth or used as a weapon.

As this vile liquid progressed further, the same sensation spread through my guts and into my entire body. Even my skin felt like it was on fire for a moment.

Then, after it started like wildfire, it ended just as abruptly. After the glass of Dragon’s Fart, all that remained was a pleasant warmth in my body, a strange bittersweet taste I couldn’t match with anything I remembered, and faint alcohol intoxication.

To show my triumph, get rid of the pent-up tears, and shake off some of the nervousness, I growled loudly and slammed the empty glass on the bar. 

“Nicely done,” Blaine managed to say before the crowd behind me erupted in cheers. 

Little did I know that this was just the beginning. Someone tactfully pulled Blaine aside, and I was left at the mercy of the city guards, who made no attempt to hide their intent to get me drunk.

And they nearly succeeded. After all, regeneration didn’t work on the poisoning. It was just fixing what the poison had damaged. Since I didn’t have any resistance dedicated skills, I felt pretty tipsy when I managed to get out of their hold. That in itself required a bit of force.

No, I didn’t start a fight. A growl did the trick, growl carrying a bit of my presence. Yeah, I somehow controlled the strength of it. How? Beats me. Despite all my efforts, my presence has never changed its power before. It was either nothing or full force. If I had to guess, I’d say I tried too hard, thought too much about it.

The solution seemed much simpler than I assumed, and all I had to do was leave it to my instincts.

This revelation came to me as a warning, too. As it turned out, I was overly careless in my drunken state. What if I hit the whole inn with my full presence? I didn’t even want to think about the consequences. And there was more I had to keep my guard up for. One fart from Sage could poison the whole room, and one wrong word out of my mouth could reveal my origins.

A little breather was in order. So I found an empty table, slumped down at it with my head resting wearily on the desk.

“There she is,” came a woman’s voice behind me, and before I had a chance to lift my head to see who the hell hadn’t let me rest for even a second, two women were already sitting at the table with mugs sitting in front of them. I knew the two, Vara and Elira. For some reason, ever since they met me at the library picking me up, they approached me as soon as they saw me. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. As far as I knew, we weren’t exactly friends. So why?

Thinking about it, it was probably Vara who was looking for gossip.

“Hi,” I grunted. “If you want to have a drink with me too, get out. I need a fucking break! O-otherwise, you may stay.”

Vara clicked her tongue. “Too bad. Anyway, we’re staying.”

“Impressive feat there at the bar,” Elira said with a hint of sincere admiration in her otherwise calm and sweet voice. “Dragon Fart, I mean,” she added, so I wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Vara said with a snort. “I tried it once and needed a healer to get my guts back together. Never again!”

“But you tried again a month later.”

“I leveled up, put a stat point in the Constitution. Of course, I had to try again. Speaking of level up...how the hell did you do that?” Vara’s raised voice made my ears ring, and my head hurt. It wasn’t hard to guess what she was talking about, though.

“Tried really hard. You should give it a shot sometime.”

Elira chuckled without making any comment, while Vara smiled broadly. “Ah, you have more spunk after that fight with Clay.”

“I’d put the blame on the drinking,” I argued. “He beat me, after all.”

“Barely, from what I heard,” she said with venom in her voice. “...and that’s my fucking point. I just heard it from others. I wasn’t there!”

“I’ve been listening to this all afternoon,” Elira complained.

“My deepest sympathies.”

“Nah.... don’t give me that, Elira. You wanted to meet her as much as I did.”

When Vara pointed it out to her, she choked on whatever she was sipping from her mug. “I...well, I heard you joined the City Guards, after all.”

Ah, yeah, that. She asked me the same thing last time.

“Sort of. Shit happened, and...it’s complicated. You’ve probably heard. I got kidnapped, Deckard rescued me...well, came to rescue me, took me on as an apprentice...”

“So it’s true. Is he here today?” Vara asked, looking around.

I did the same, only to shrug. “He may be…honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t gotten a chance to move from the bar since I got here.”

“With Lieutenant Blaine...” Elira added.

“Good job, woman. First Deckard, and now you’re buddies with the Lieutenant?”

“He owes me a drink, that’s all,” I said, not having the strength to refute her fantasies.

“That’s how it starts. First one drink, then...”

“Leave her be Vara.”

“How can I? Ever since she showed up here, it’s one interesting shit after another.”

“Yeah, I know. And you missed it all,” Elira said, rolling her eyes tiredly. “I’ve heard it at least a hundred times.”

“You may not give a shit, but I do. And yes, I missed all of it, all the fun. Seriously, I think the Captain’s doing this to me on purpose.”

“You mean like sending you to the Merchant’s Row while Korra was in the barracks?”

“Exactly, why me?”

“It’s where your folks live.”

“And...?”

Elira sighed wearily and turned to look at me. “Don’t mind her. She doesn’t usually complain like this.”

“That’s because nothing much usually happens either,” Vara butted in.

Her friend ignored her, though. “When she gets it out of her system, she’ll be reasonable to talk to.”

“Got it,” I said, giving her thumbs up.

“Fuck you, both of you!” Vara growled, taking a sip from her mug.

Elira waved her off, giving me a weak smile. “I’m glad you joined. It’ll be great to see you around.”

Before I had a chance to respond, she continued. “I’d buy you a drink, but...”

“Please don’t! I’ve had enough already.”

Vara laughed. “Enough? That’s what you think...”

We continued our chatter, and while I’ve honestly never been one for this chick talk, I found it quite enjoyable for a change. It wasn’t long before we were interrupted, though.

“Hello, ladies,” a slightly drunk Clay greeted as he bent down between Vara and Elira, wrapping his arms around both of them, careful not to spill the mug in his hand, and pulled them close. 

“Fuck of Clay!” Vara pushed him away while Elira gracefully wriggled out of his embrace.

“Someone’s grumpy today,” he remarked, and turned to look at me. “May I have a minute of your time, Korra?”

The first thought was: Do I have to? I really didn’t want to get up from the table, yet I knew this was inevitable. In fact, I was glad he was the one who came up to me, as I had no idea how this worked. Was I in for another drink or a tavern brawl?

Leaving Vara and Elira at the table, I followed Clay aside. To my relief, he took me neither to the bar nor to the tap, but to the side of the room, away from the ears of the others.

“Are we still good?” I asked as he leaned against the wall.

“If you’re afraid I’m gonna fight you here, you don’t have to. I’m pissed, but I’m not holding a grudge.”

“What does that mean?” Seriously, if he was so pissed off, how could he not hold a grudge?

He laughed and drank from his mug. “I’m more pissed at myself than I am at you. It should have been an easy win for me, even against someone of your level. I damn sure underestimated you.”

“W-was I that strong?” It’s been on my mind a little bit, too. How could I match a trained city guard?

“If you’re talking about brute force, yes. Your strikes packed quite a punch. Your technique...that’s another story. I’m not sure you even have one.”

I chose my right to remain silent. That in itself was the answer, and it made Clay laugh. 

“Anyway, what caught me off guard was your fierceness, your willingness to go so far that it almost killed you.”

“Isn’t Rayden training you for something like that?

“Well, Captain...she would certainly want us to be prepared for that. You’d have a hard time finding someone willing to go that far in a mere spar, though. To achieve such fierceness....such an effort not to give up at any cost requires fighting for your life.”

“Yeah...” I said, recalling how many times I’ve been in that situation.

“So yes...my ego took a hit. The fact that my pals are making fun of me for it pisses me off, but I can live with that. Besides, I’m not stupid enough to get on your bad side.”

What the actual fuck?! “Why do you say that?”

“Even a blind man must see that you have great potential, a drive that keeps you going. You may not reach Deckard’s strength, but you will become powerful. It certainly won’t be that long before you’re stronger than me.”

“So I take it you don’t want to make an enemy of someone who might kick your ass in a few weeks, right?”

He laughed hard. “In a few weeks? Aren’t you overestimating yourself?”

“I got to where I am in a few days,” I argued.

“You know what? I take it back. You’re right. Who am I to tell you what you can and can’t prove? How about another match in a couple of weeks, then?”

“I took it that you didn’t want another one?”

He utterly ignored my remark on what he said after our fight. “Are you afraid you won’t live up to your words?”

A challenging low growl escaped my throat. “Fuck no! You got it. You got your match.”

“Good,” he said with a smile. “Now, how about a drink? I need to take my mind off things before I start realizing what I just did.”

“I’d rather not...I’ve had three Dragon Farts already, and I don’t even know how many others.”

“A dance then?”

While drooping my ears, I couldn’t help sighing. “I’ll take that drink.”

 

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