Wild Dragon of Rome 4 (Patreon)

Leaving the compound was a challenge. One that was bigger than entering, even with all servants busy with the feast. I could probably use the tunnel, but that would mean I had to run away alone. Instead, I decided to go for one of the servant entrances, and picked one of the carts. 

I ignored the unceasing laughter coming from the main residence, even my uncle’s distinctive laugh. Knowing him, his guest told a joke, and my uncle was laughing loud enough to show his bootlicker capabilities. 

I wanted to go there. Go and have a ‘talk’ with my uncle about how to treat the deceased. Anger burned in my chest, making it harder to hold the elements suppressed. The temptation to go and interrupt the feast was strong. 

I wondered if I could have refused it without the intimidating presence of the sorcerer, one that would have killed me easily even if I managed to ambush them. 

Instead, I quickly set up one of the supply carts and hid my grandfather’s body at the back. 

Then, I hitched one of the fastest horses to the cart, hoping that the guards would mistake it for an inferior one. I needed more than my two legs to get away from the compound. With everything done, I took the driver's seat, and went to the gate. 

The gate was supposed to have at least four guards, but there was only one. He was one of my uncle’s hires, and ordinarily, not trusted enough to be given the gate duty. I wondered if more experienced guards were helping the servants, or busy with the search.

Ironically, looking for me. 

Or maybe, it was linked to the sudden change of the guard leadership. Some of the guards, including the old commander, had been with my grandfather for a long time, too much to accept what was going on. They were either fired or dealt with permanently. 

Either way, it worked to my benefit. Dealing with a guard was easier than four, especially since I didn’t have the luxury of ambushing them. Even without my fiery gift, they would eventually discover the deaths of their soldiers. I hoped that the fire would look like a fight that went out of control. 

Once that happened, I hoped that they would believe that I was still in the compound. And, if I was lucky, the search would discover the tunnel — as I didn’t bother to hide it. By discovering it, they would search me in the wrong direction. 

That meant I couldn’t kill the guard. 

“What are you doing here?” the guard interrupted me as I drove the cart toward the gate. “No one could leave the compound at night.” 

“Master ordered me to go and purchase some more wine. Apparently, we’re running out of the one that our valuable guest enjoyed.” The guard looked stubborn. “I can go and bring Master here. I’m sure he’ll be happy that I interrupted the feast to explain himself to you,” I added. 

Ordinarily, I abhorred the new guards my uncle picked for their lack of discipline and general stupidity, but this time, it worked to my benefit. It helped that my uncle was petty enough to punish them for following the rules if it made his life inconvenient. 

Not exactly an ideal patriarch … or an ideal son, for that matter, I thought as I drove the cart out of the compound. “Don’t you think so, old man,” I muttered sadly as I threw a glance back, doing my best to confuse a set of emotions. 

“Deep breaths, control your emotions, or they control you,” I said, repeating the words that he repeated to me many times, but I doubted that even he could imagine I would use that to smuggle his body out of his own compound. 

I had to control them, because I couldn’t afford losing control of them. Not when it would interfere with the control over my magic. I couldn’t afford that, because I was too close to the compound to successfully avoid the attention of a sorcerer. 

Taking deep breaths didn’t work. I needed a distraction, so I pulled out the box, curious about exactly what was in it. I couldn’t guess, because even after being trained by him, I still didn’t know exactly why he had been training me that hard. 

There had been days I thought that he only trained me to annoy and torture my uncle, who he always mocked as weak blood. Other times, I believed it was a way to lash against his illness, a way to relive his glory through an heir. 

Then, there were days I thought more … almost affection, at least what passed for it in his warped mind. 

I was afraid that the answer had been gone with the burnt letter. Another crime I could lay on my pathetic uncle … not that he needed help with any additional crimes, not when it was almost certain that he had a hand in his own father’s death. Directly or indirectly, I didn’t particularly care. 

Either way, I would make him pay…

“Focus, Marcus. Don’t disappoint the old man,” I muttered as I clamped on the elements rotating in my heart. Trying to distract myself, I touched the box. It had a mechanical lock, but I pressed three locations at the same time, and the box flipped open. I looked inside. 

And slammed it shut in panic. 

I had to. I couldn’t afford any hint of its presence let out, because its content was enough to trigger a manhunt. It was one of the most precious magical items that had been even discovered. 

A small crystal, barely bigger than a pebble. A treasure that might trigger a war. 

A dragon heart. 

I took a deep, trying to control my heartbeat. Why did my grandfather own a Dragon Heart? Why did he keep it hidden? Was the presence of the sorcerer in any way linked to the existence of the Dragon Heart, or it was just a coincidence. 

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that dragon hearts were some of the most valuable treasures in the world, for one very simple reason. They generated mana without limit. Even the weakest, the most broken piece was enough to elevate a slave into a noble, just by giving 

I knew nothing about their origin, or why they were named such. Some actually believed that they came from dragons, but considering there was no evidence of the existence of the dragons, it was hard to be sure. Maybe dragons actually existed along with the gods, or maybe those crystals were just natural wonders that were linked to the legends of nonexistent beasts … but ultimately, I didn’t care. 

What I cared about was their function of generating mana without limit, mana that could be absorbed by humans. 

Finding appropriate sources of mana has always been one of the biggest challenges of growing as a mage. Mana existed all around us, and it was possible to collect it by meditating. However, the amount of mana that could be gathered like that was minuscule. Some unique locations had more mana, but those locations were either under the control of the various forces, or wild areas with enough magical beasts to threaten even the strongest mage. 

There were various objects and materials that contained mana, and some were even fit for human use without dangerous drawbacks, but they were rare, expensive … and most importantly, limited. 

Dragon Hearts had no such constraints. Just let a drop of blood activate, and it would provide endless mana to quickly raise a force of mages. 

“No doubt you insisted that I stayed as a four-element mage despite the cost, old man,” I muttered dazedly. “You had such a treasure hidden.” 

It was a treasure indeed. I could bring it to Rome and gift it to one of the Consuls, and I would get a valuable political post as a result. Or, I could gift it to one of the stronger Patrician houses, and get their support to elevate myself. 

Or, I could leave the Republic, go to Constantinople, to the court of the Emperor, and receive a small city for my contribution… 

Though, those were nothing more than a passing fancy. For me, the dragon heart represented one thing above any other. Revenge. I couldn’t take down a sorcerer even with a dragon heart, but that didn’t matter. 

He couldn’t stick around forever. And, even with dragon heart, I needed some time to reach the third order, and more time to settle properly. Staying away for a while didn’t matter. Ultimately, revenge was a dish that best served cold… 

Well, not so cold, I corrected as behind me, the night sky had suddenly gained a red color. My little trap had finally been triggered, even more brightly than I expected. It looked like Lion’s Bane worked even better than I hoped. 

Ruining my uncle’s party was a good first step. One of many I needed to develop. 

But, first, I had a funeral to hold. I continued to move with the cart in the middle of the night, focusing on the dreams of revenge. 

It was less painful than the alternative.