Chapter Forty-Six: "Struck It Rich!"

When Shaya walked out of the cave, he was carrying on his back an enormous bundle several times larger than anyone else's. He had simply skinned most of the dragon, wrapping up everything—dragon teeth, tendons, scales—in one great parcel made of dragon hide.

Such a heavy load could only be managed by someone with his monstrous strength.

Seeing Shaya emerge like a human-shaped snail, Pitiful Worm finally felt at ease. But beside him, Dodoro’s legs began to tremble again as he stared at Shaya, pondering how he ought to greet this little thief.

Should he act tough?

Absolutely not! This little thief seemed to have a good relationship with Her Highness. Even putting that aside, his terrifying strength—he could probably snap Dodoro's neck with a flick of his finger.

Moreover, Dodoro had just choked this barbarian moments before. What if the brute decided to settle the score? With his frail bones, he’d probably be flattened with a single punch...

As for the grudge from the robbery in Wildfire Town, revenge now seemed hopeless.

Sighing mournfully at this realization, Dodoro watched as Shaya, despite his great strength, staggered under the weight of nearly half a dragon. Shaya was about to greet Pitiful Worm when suddenly a figure rushed over and flung itself at his legs.

What now?

It was the conjurer!

Dodoro hugged Shaya’s leg, sobbing and sniffling, his manner now obsequious and ingratiating to the extreme. “Great hero! Thank you for saving me from the dragon’s jaws! I have no way to repay you for granting me a new life; please, accept my humble gratitude!”

With that, he wiped his nose on Shaya’s trousers.

Shaya was momentarily bewildered. When did I ever save your life? Weren’t you the one who came hurtling down the mountain toward me?

Still... if someone comes offering themselves...

Shaya eyed Dodoro up and down. “Are you certain you want to repay this debt?”

“Of course!” Dodoro felt a wave of relief as Shaya’s expression softened. After all, no one strikes a smiling face. As long as he’s respectful, surely this brute wouldn’t hold a grudge.

“Very well! Since I saved you, by the rules of Wildfire Plain, you’re now my captive! Until you redeem yourself, you’re my servant.” With a grin, Shaya swung the massive bundle onto Dodoro’s back. “Come on, carry your master’s pack!”

“I...” Dodoro felt as though a small mountain had collapsed onto him. The world went dark: “Help...”

The poor conjurer was pinned beneath the bundle, gasping for air, while Shaya strolled over to Pitiful Worm, eyes twinkling with amusement.

As soon as Pitiful Worm saw Shaya, she couldn’t help but recall his naked form at the cave entrance... and that terrifying... something. Her cheeks flushed, heart pounding, she felt weak and didn’t dare meet his gaze.

“I have something good for you,” Shaya said, untying a leather pouch—also fashioned from dragon hide—from his waist. He bent down to tug at her trouser leg.

Pitiful Worm shrieked, scrambling backward: “You! What are you doing!?”

Her scream alerted Dodoro, pinned under the bundle. At the sight, his vision swam.

It’s over! The barbarian is about to violate Her Highness! God, what should I do?

If someone assaults a royal in my presence, I should intervene in the name of justice! But... but would I dare? This thief could cripple me with a gesture.

And if I interrupted, he might kill me to silence me!

No, no... Should I help instead? If he means to rape Her Highness, should I, Dodoro, give him a push?

Nonsense! I’m a mage—how could I stoop to such villainy? It’s despicable! It’s evil!

But to stand by and do nothing is also a crime!

Gallows, stakes, the executioner’s axe... a parade of horrors danced through his mind as the poor mage quaked, torn between duty and fear.

“Stop squirming!” Shaya barked, pinning Pitiful Worm to the ground. “Hold still and let me see your injury!”

With that, he tore open the cuff of her trousers.

(Thank goodness, just the cuff.) Pitiful Worm realized Shaya had no further intentions and felt a measure of relief, though her heart still raced. Her legs, gripped in his calloused hands, tingled with a strange numbness that crept up to her very heart, leaving her limp and softened both in body and spirit...

Shaya took out the leather pouch and poured a sticky red-green liquid onto her wounded leg.

“This is dragon’s blood!” he announced with a sly grin. “I just discovered it can heal wounds! See these burns on my body? They’re already healed—that’s the effect of the dragon’s blood! With a little of this, your wound will heal quickly. And if you use it elsewhere, it can make you as hard as iron!”

He shot her a mischievous look. “We’re both men here. Want me to show you how to use it? Heh heh!”

Pitiful Worm, innocent as she was, didn’t catch his meaning and only stared at him in confusion.

Seeing her unresponsive, Shaya felt a pang of disappointment. This fellow is too dense. And with such an ugly face, it’s unlikely any woman would look at him. Giving him something to make him hard as iron is a waste if there’s nowhere to use it.

After rubbing the dragon’s blood into her leg, he put the pouch away.

As he withdrew his hands, he noticed Pitiful Worm gazing at him, her legs still outstretched, her eyes strangely bright. The odd look in her eyes made Shaya feel a bit peculiar himself. He paused, wiping his face. “Is there something on my face?”

(Idiot...) Pitiful Worm snapped out of her daze, face flushing as she snatched her legs back and hugged her knees, not daring to meet Shaya’s gaze. Her mind was a tumult of confusion—was it bewilderment, shyness, or perhaps some secret annoyance at his cluelessness?

But soon she felt a tingling itch at her wounded leg. Looking down, she saw the wound, which had refused to heal for days, rapidly closing. Skin knitted together, the blood crust flaking away...

Pitiful Worm finally came to her senses.

“Dragon—dragon’s blood? Did you use dragon’s blood on me?” she exclaimed, agitated. “Dragon’s blood is so precious, and you used it on me?”

Shaya chuckled, thinking to himself that he’d already bathed in the stuff several times and still had plenty left in the pouch. Giving her a bit more was no great matter.

Behind him, Dodoro groaned.

“Um... honored sir, if it’s not too much trouble, could you please move this off me... I’m about to be crushed to death...”

Shaya frowned, walked over, and hefted the bundle away with one hand, regarding the half-suffocated mage. “Pathetic. You’re even more useless than my last servant.”

Dodoro seethed inside, but his face grew ever more deferential. “Your, your last servant was...?”

“He was called Ox, a gnome.”

I...

Dodoro nearly coughed up blood.

I am a noble mage! How could I be less than a gnome?!

He scrambled up and glanced around. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

The corpse of the last mage, slain by Ada, was not far off!

Dodoro rushed over, rummaged through the mage’s belongings, carefully removed a gold badge, then slipped a wind-element magic ring from his finger. He also found a small deerskin pouch containing assorted bottles and jars.

Dodoro cheered aloud. Though he lacked skill, he had a mage’s discerning eye and immediately recognized these as top-tier treasures for any magic user!

That wind ring alone was worth at least ten thousand gold coins! The jars and bottles were likely rare magical ingredients and scrolls.

He even found two magic cores.

Just as he reveled in his fortune, a huge shadow fell over him. He turned to see Shaya standing behind, grinning.

“Found something good, did you? Now that you’re my servant, all your finds belong to me!” Shaya smiled benevolently. “I can see you lack experience. Don’t forget to strip off his clothes, too, and those boots are quite nice.”

Dodoro: “.............”

***

They rested atop the mountain until evening. Only when Pitiful Worm’s leg was fully healed did Shaya pat his backside, stretch his arms, and shout with excitement, “All right! This adventure was a complete success—let’s go home!”

Hah, now I, Lord Shaya, am finally rich. The old man always said, a true man needs not just wealth, but also women, to live up to his status.

In Wildfire Town... Aunt Sophia might be beautiful, but she’s getting on in years. But wait, doesn’t she have a niece who looks just like her? Big hands, big feet, big chest, big hips...

Now that I’m prosperous, I’ll go straight to her family and propose! Hah!

The old man’s other saying was just as true:

“A virgin isn’t necessarily poor, but a rich man is seldom a virgin.”