Chapter 499: Wyvern’s Brew

    “I’m not sure you want to try this,” Roman said to Braxton after coming to terms that he was serving a leader of the Assassin’s Guild. “I know that you have a ridiculous constitution—you would have to since you are able to drink the new brew like you do—but, I don’t think your constitution is going to help you with it as much as you think it is.”

    “Don’t you worry, little man,” Braxton said, waving off the halfling’s concern. “If the brew kills me, then what a way it would be to go out, eh? Imagine that. Dying while in the middle of doing one of the things that you love most in the world. I can’t think of a better way.”

    “That’s the problem...” Roman said in a whisper that could barely be heard.

    “What was that, little man?” the dwarf assassin asked.

    “I said... that’s the problem!” Roman replied. “You may not care if you die by drinking my brew, but I don’t want to get into it with the Assassin’s Guild. What would happen if they found out that their leader died because of me? I’d never be able to get anything done again—like you said before to Derek about whoever it was you were talking about. I’d be spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, not knowing when I was going to breathe my last breath. No... I can’t live like that.”

    “Don’t you worry about such minor things,” Braxton replied. “You’re protected by myself and Mara. And you even have this big guy on your side. Even if I die here, there will be no repercussions. If you want, I can even sign something, and if on some off chance I do die, then your friend here can take it to Nyx. Problem solved.”

    Roman looked between Derek and Braxton for a few moments. Finally, his pleading eyes landed on Derek and stayed there.

    “It’s fine,” Derek finally said. “Give him what he wants. If he dies, oh well. Nothing is going to come back on you.”

    “Fine...” Roman relented. “But first...” he pulled out a paper and slid it in front of Braxton.

    “Hah!” Braxton laughed out loud. “You actually have something like this already drawn up. I knew a little man as talented as you would also be smart.” Braxton quickly signed the waiver and slid it back across the bar to Roman. However, instead of accepting it, Roman redirected it to Derek.

    “You keep it,” Roman said to Derek. “You’re the one who will need it if something happens. Better to be proactive with things like this.”

    “Fine,” Derek snorted and stored the paper in his storage bracelet. After that, he opened his arms up and motioned to the bar in front of him. “Go ahead,” he said.

    Roman nodded slowly and seriously toward Derek, then gently reached over and slid the jug he’d pulled out earlier closer to himself. After that, he flicked his wrist, and two deep black mugs appeared on the bar. They looked different from any of the mugs that Derek had seen before. “Special mugs?” he asked.

    “Very special,” Roman replied. “I had them made of some of the best materials I could get my hands on. It was not easy getting them working properly, either. Some spoiled the taste of whatever was in them, and others couldn’t even handle a drop of this new brew. I’d say that I spent well over 2,500 gold coins just getting these mugs made.”

    “What about the jug?” Derek asked. “If the mugs cost that much, I wouldn’t even know where to begin with the jug.”

    “The jug was a lot less,” Roman replied.

    “Really?” Derek asked with a frown.

    Because of Roman’s shout and the noise made from a dwarf’s head bouncing off the bar, it drew the attention of the other patrons, and soon enough, there was a handful of rough-looking people surrounding them. Most were in awe at the sight because of how well-known Braxton had made himself since finding out about the bar. All the regulars knew of the dwarf that could come in and drink the latest brew without injury. It was the thing of legends.

    But now, that same dwarf was passed out—if not dead—on the bar. They hadn’t seen what had happened leading up to the event, but it didn’t take a genius to look at the mysterious mugs sitting on the bar and realize what had happened.

    “Another new brew?” one of the patrons asked. “One that Brax couldn’t handle? Well... looks like he’s still alive...” the patron reached over and put his fingers on the dwarf’s neck, feeling for a pulse. Derek had already used Identify on the man, and, while he didn’t get much information back, he knew that he wasn’t dead or in a Dying State. The patron then looked at Roman, whose arm was being held by Derek, then he looked over at Derek. “Hey! You should...” he started, but his eyes soon found the badges on Derek’s shoulder. Instead of finishing, he gulped and didn’t say another word.

    “Silence!” Roman reprimanded. “Leave us! Get back to what you were all doing, or don’t blame me for banning you from the bar for a month.”

    That was all it took, and the patrons ran away without a second glance. The man who had spoken before was the first one gone—he seemed thankful that Roman gave him an out.

    “What do we do? Let me give him a potion,” Roman asked Derek, pleadingly.

    “No...” Derek said. “Just watch.”

    Finally, Roman relented, and Derek let go of his arm. The Alchemist didn’t store the potions back in his ring, but he at least placed them on the bar close by.

    Moments later, Braxton began convulsing. A pure black, veiny, web-like pattern began appearing on whatever skin was visible. Soon, the web-like pattern made its way to the back of Braxton’s neck, then halfway up his head before the man shot up. Still sitting in the seat, Braxton looked around with blood-red eyes and the ever-growing pattern on his face.

    “Wow...” the man whispered lightly. Then, he closed his eyes and used a skill that Derek was all too familiar with... Meditation. Maybe even Greater Meditation, Derek wasn’t sure. The dwarf wasn’t moving, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t. Derek knew very well that, even though one could move with Greater Meditation, it still worked better when being still. It was the same, even at the level that his own skill was.

    Before their eyes, the black pattern began withdrawing from Braxton’s face, and, when the man opened them, the whites of his eyes even shifted back from crimson. Braxton turned to Derek and let out a giant grin.

    “Still feeling it some...” he muttered. His speech wasn’t as slurred as before, but he still had a bit of trouble. “What a brew. Maybe even better than the king’s brew. Certainly more dangerous... and kicks in a lot quicker.” The dwarf reached out and grabbed the mug again, then brought it close to his nose. He took a big sniff and closed his eyes. “Smells great, too.” He sloshed the liquid in the mug around a few times, then... to everyone’s—mostly Roman’s—horror, the dwarf brought it up to his mouth and drained the whole thing.

    “What are you doing!?” Roman yelled, but it was too late.

    “Shush... little man,” Braxton smiled widely, then his head began wobbling back and forth as he closed his eyes.

    Definitely Greater Meditation, Derek thought as he saw the man slip into Meditation once again. “It’s fine,” Derek said to Roman. “He knows his limits, and apparently, your brew met them, but didn’t exceed them.”

    “Whew...” Roman let out a deep breath. “What a relief. I thought he was a goner.”

    “Nope... just a dwarf who likes to drink,” Derek chuckled. “Speaking of liking to drink.” He reached forward and picked up his mug. He tilted it toward Roman with a nod, then... “Bottoms up.” He turned it up and drank the whole thing in a single gulp.