Chapter 33.
I was in fucking hell. I could not handle booze, and my hangover the next morning only made that clear. Galine had been cheating the whole bloody night; she was like three times my size, and I had been trying to keep up with her. Idiot!
Frida couldn’t cure hangovers. Since it was just serious dehydration, the treatment was a simple one: drink a ton of water. Which didn’t magically make me feel better, and the Tavern Crew’s ruckus only made me further nauseous in the morning. But Frida did give me some kind of sludge, which seemed to help the headache.
I hated medicine in this world. Why had no one invented pills yet?
It was only made more irritating by how non-hungover the rest of them seemed to be. Then it finally clicked, their stats were all way above mine. I was just fucking weak.
“Did someone have a good night?” Martrix grinned as I groaned into my breakfast. She waggled her eyebrows dramatically, as if her insinuations weren't clear.
“I did actually,” I muttered. “We had a lovely night chatting. I just drank far too much.”
“Aww, that's it?” she pouted.
“Oh, let her have her privacy,” Frida scolded.
“Did you all really agree to pay the Academy tuition?” I frowned, trying to change the subject. Last night was rather fuzzy.
Martrix nodded. “An epic monster is our best haul ever. It’s life-changing money,” she explained.
“I’m getting my armour enchanted,” Kimrel spoke up from where he crouched and poked at the fireplace.
“I’m buying land,” Petven huffed. “I despise the wilderness. I never want to sleep out there again.”
“You’re retiring?” I frowned.
“No,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m working towards retirement. If I invest now, I might be able to live off it in a few centuries.”
“Hold on, how long do elves live?” I frowned, very much needing to pause the conversation.
He hummed. “My great great great grandfather is in his eighth century, but he’s older than most.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
Perven spluttered indignantly.
“He’s 54,” Martrix grinned. “Not even considered an adult amongst the elves.”
“You’re all terrible, I don’t even know why I bother to grace you with my presence,” Petven bemoaned.
I could help but laugh at his antics. But holy shit. They lived for hundreds of years!? Sure, that was pretty normal when it came to elves, but… fuck. Now I was in a world where people lived for centuries. Before, I would have guessed him to be the youngest of the group. I had assumed I was older than him. Apparently, he was almost twice my age. This revelation did not help my throbbing head.
I was ecstatic to have my tuition paid for, or at least the first semester. I still needed money badly, but I just had a few more months to figure it all out.
I was already starting to feel bloated from the slimes Candy was working on. A few more days and I would have a few more shillings to my name.
Yeah… I needed to figure out how to ramp this up. Which brought me to my untouched skill, [Dungeon Core]. I had just been sitting on the ability for days. Yet the reason for that still hadn’t really changed. It was safe here, and it wasn’t safe out there.
Galine wasn’t the only one with fears.
Maybe I could convince the Tavern Crew to do a picnic outside the city. Yet the thought of venturing back out there filled me with a nauseating dread. They hadn’t exactly proven themselves as bodyguards. Fuck.
No wonder they were paying my tuition and letting me stay here for free. I probably would have stayed in Appleby if it weren’t for their convincing; I wouldn’t have been on the road that day if it weren’t for them.
And yet, as Galine had put it, “life sucks, and then you die.”
Everything could have always gone differently, and yet nothing would ever go differently than the way it had gone. What was done was done.
I had never really blamed the Tavern Crew, but more than that, I needed to stop putting so much energy into my anger. I obviously couldn’t stop being angry, but I couldn’t let it control me either. Or else I would end up just as stuck as I had been in my last life.
The same went for fear. If it controlled me, then I wouldn’t ever be able to move forward.
I should ask Galine to go on a picnic.
I didn’t need bodyguards. I just needed a friend to walk with me. I could help her down precarious stairs, and she could check for raptors in the grass.
I snorted to myself. It was a silly premise, but a reassuring one. Logically, the raptors had been a freak incident, one even less likely to occur now that the stormscale was no longer chasing monsters from its territory. I just needed someone to remind me of that.
Despite my pounding headache, I felt braver than I had in days.
The Tavern Crew scurried around all day, dropping in and out as they ran errands as if their night of debauchery hadn’t remotely affected them. I almost found it offensive.
But that was how that very afternoon, Martrix handed me a stack of platinum pieces. Not shillings, not even gold crowns, platinum pieces. And not in a pouch either, but safe and secure in a sturdy wooden box. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
“We all chipped in a little extra,” Martrix offered, abashed. “Obviously you’ll need to get exact numbers… but it should cover a full year including room and board.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “I don’t even know what to say. You get this is absurd, right? This is crazy. This is a fortune and honestly a waste of money, I’m sure there are better uses for it, I can think of several utilitarianly.”
Martrix just shrugged. “If you really think about it, we wouldn’t have even been there to kill the stormscale if you hadn’t been so insistent that you’d be fine on your own. Frida almost outright refused to go.”
I laughed. “I’m not really sure that’s how this works.”
“It’s your money now, just… put it to good use. Make sure the next few months are less rough than your arrival,” she smiled. “And hopefully one day, when you’re slaying dragons and saving the world, you’ll be able to help us out now and again.”
“I will,” I nodded with a roll of my eyes. It still felt surreal. And while I had no plans to slay dragons or save the world, this right here meant the world to me. The Tavern Crew could have just left me to fate, but they hadn’t. “Thank you,” I smiled, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
Martrix gave me another hug. “I’m really sorry you got hurt, we all are,” she mumbled into my shoulder.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. “Galine mentioned a guy who had a fancy prosthetic leg, so… maybe I can eventually get something like that.”
Matrix nodded. “Top of the shelf healing magic can restore limbs. So there's always hope.”
I blinked. I… hadn’t considered that, but… magic was fucking real here, so… I really should have. I didn’t dare to hope too much. It was easy to be disappointed. Yet even if I never magically regrew my arm, it was reassuring to know there were options out there. Hell, surely there was a spell out there that provided some kind of magical prosthesis or just flat-out telekinesis.
I might never be… back in one piece, but the barriers I faced could be reduced with some creativity.
“Anyway,” Matrix hummed. “Oh, Galine is training out back if you wanna peek.”
“What?” I frowned.
“She’s training out there, all sweaty and kicking the shit out of some mannequins,” she grinned. “Just thought it might interest you.”
I glared at her. “Yes… Yes, that does interest me. I will… see you later,” I muttered, before scurrying outside to see just what she was talking about.
Martrix’s laugh followed me all the way down the stairs.