Wild Dragon of Rome 1 (Dragon's Tale Rewrite) (Patreon)

I walked along to shore, searching for Lion’s Curse, a dangerously toxic magical plant that was as hard to collect as it was to process, trying to suppress the unease in my heart. That unease had nothing to do with the plant itself, as I had gone through that routine enough times for the process to be routine; and everything to do with the reason I had been collecting it. 

The illness of my grandfather, Quintus Scipio, vaunted noble of the great and famous Scipio Family, long reduced to a shell of its historical self, defeated and exiled into the poor and underdeveloped hinterland of Britannia, away from anything valuable. However, the sickness was getting worse the last few weeks, and Lion’s Curse was the best plant that was available in our immediate surroundings. 

Britannia wasn’t exactly rife with miraculous medicinal plants. If it had been, our family wouldn’t be the only patrician family living here.  

I had forgotten how many times I had questioned whether such an exile was a blessing or curse for me. As locked in a godforsaken island with nothing to do, impeded by his injuries, I often found myself in the tender mercies of my grandfather as he trained me. 

He had never been a soft man. He had always been demanding, irritable, and aggressive, which made his training share too many similarities with the official procedures of torture experts than even the toughest drill sergeants. 

Though, it was hard to argue with the results. I was barely twenty years old, and I was already an apprentice mage; a magic user of the second order. Admittedly, it wasn’t as impressive as it sounded. The first order was exclusively for the children and the incompetent, and the second order was incapable of using the power of elements externally, limited to enhancing bodily functions. 

The true power of magic started with the third order, the vaunted rank of mage. A rank that I was still far away despite my ability to touch all four elements. 

All because of the insistence of my grandfather, who had always been a perfectionist along with being a hard-ass trainer. A frustrating combination. 

The mages capable of all four elements were rare, and not by coincidence. Most magic users were happy focusing on one element, more than happy to trade the nebulous benefits of a more comprehensive mastery over faster progress. 

To progress in all four elements, one needed to possess both talent and money. 

I would have liked to think that I possessed the former — certainly more than my useless uncle and even more useless cousins, not that it was a hard bar to clear — but the latter was far away. Not because of the dire straits of the Scipio family, as while poor, we were not poor enough to be unable to support the development of a proper mage. 

It was my status as a bastard that kept me from the necessary resources. 

I took a deep breath, trying not to let it get me too much. Being a bastard was unlucky, but far from the worst thing that could happen to a man living in the Roman Republic. 

Being a pleb could be better, but only depending on the region. A citizen of the city of Rome would be incredible even as a plebeian. The rest of the Italia peninsula would have been good as well. Anywhere else, it was no better than being a noble bastard from Mother’s side. And, there were worse fates. I could have been born as a part of one of the tribes without citizenship, as a landless freedman, or worse … a slave. 

The irony of being a neglected bastard of a noble family. One developed a deep understanding of how worse things could have been. As much as I hated to admit it, I was lucky that my mother was still in the compound when she gave birth to me rather than springing me away like she initially intended. 

Roman Republic might rule a nice chunk of the world, but that didn’t make living any easier.  

Then, I saw a Lion’s Bane, nested under a rock near the shore, its color allowing it to fade against the rest. I would have missed if it wasn’t for the Fire, boosting my perception … in a manner of speaking. 

The empowerment of the elements was never straightforward. Fire didn’t make my gaze sharper, any more than Air allowed me to run faster. The effects were never as straightforward … unless, of course, they were bound to an artifact by a master, but that was another issue. 

I tightened my grip over my spear, and approached the plant. A weapon was not required to deal with Lion’s Bane, but the same wasn’t true for the beasts that might have resting nearby to enjoy the magical presence of the plant. 

Once I was five feet away, I stopped, and stabbed the sandy ground of the shore several times, making sure there was no nasty surprise. I didn’t want to risk my toes against another magical critter. I was wearing leather boots, but there were too many beasts that wouldn’t even slow down by those.  

During the sixth stab, my spear hit a rock … then, the rock moved slightly under the pressure of the spearartip. 

Not a rock.

I threw myself back immediately, not willing to take any risk. A good choice, as a shadow followed me. I barely dodged, letting its presence pass me. A snake. An elemental kind, first-order, but not too far from second-order. 

Troubling, but nowhere near the level it would be if the beast actually reached the second order. 

Trying to deal with second-order wouldn’t have been fun. Their lack of intelligence might be an impediment, but their ability to use elemental mana to reinforce any parts of their body was challenging, and venomous beasts were particularly troubling. 

Element-enhanced venom was not something to be shrugged off. 

Even the most experienced hunter avoided beasts of the same order, and these men were kitted with better gear than a disposable spear that even a common guard would turn their nose to. Unfortunately, that was the best I could get with my uncle pulling the strings in the compound. 

The snake rushed forward again, and I deflected again, trying to get a better sense of its movements, trying to see if it had any surprises. A first-order beast shouldn’t have any external expression, but considering just how close it was to the next order, I wasn’t willing to risk it.  

Five repeats, then it suddenly moved forward, faster than any other attempt. Air, I thought even as I shuffled in place. At the same time, I reached my Earth mana that had rotating in my chest, dormant. A mental touch was all that was needed for it to spread along my limbs, far faster than a second-order apprentice mage should be capable of, and pinned the beast to the ground. 

It paid off to be trained a madman with no mercy who treated broken bones the way other people treated scraps. 

“Victory,” I said as I pulled my knife, and butchered the snake skillfully — another benefit of my torturous training. A first-order beast wasn’t exactly a treasure, but I managed to keep its venom gland safe. An apothecary might pay three or four silver denarii if I was lucky. 

The skin was too ruined to be useful, but the meat would make a nice ration once dried.   

Altogether, not a treasure that would make people envious. But a bastard couldn’t turn his nose to even a few copper aes, let alone silver denarii. 

Once that was done, I turned my attention to the real loot of my victory. Lion’s Curse, the poisonous plant my monster of a grandfather required to suppress his disease. I approached carefully, but this time, I didn’t bother stabbing the sand. 

Snakes weren’t famous for tolerating other beasts in their immediate vicinity. It took five minutes for me to uproot the plant, and ten minutes to carefully wrap with an oily scrap. 

Mission complete. 

Too bad the sun was already setting, meaning I had to move at a grueling pace if I were to reach the compound before sunset. 

One of the more troubling aspects of living in the untamed wild province of Britannia, was that traveling during the night was very dangerous, particularly when alone. I didn’t even have a mount to make the process easier. 

I quickened my pace as the cover of the darkness thickened. I had been out since the morning, and the last thing I needed was to deal with the guards, particularly my uncle’s lackeys. At this point,, they knew my grandfather would never punish them — he claimed adversity bred character — and they were happy to bully me to keep my uncle happy. 

I had to camp several times near the compound when they used curfew as an excuse to keep me out. I didn’t want to deal with their mess. 

Yet, it looked like I had miscalculated how much time I had, because evening arrived before I could reach the compound. I sighed, thinking whether to try my luck, or go directly to the cave I had prepared for this exact circumstance. 

However, before I could make that decision, I saw a movement in the distance. Several guards, each wearing the familiar armor of our house, led by Guard Captain Spurius, my detestable uncle’s most enthusiastic bootlicker.  

“Perfect, what I needed —” I started, only to stop when I caught a distinct glint from his helmet. A helmet that he wasn’t supposed to be wearing, one that belonged to the Commander of the Guards. 

I moved into the shrubbery near the road. 

Something was wrong.