PATRIARCH FOWL
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Casual Heroing, Chapter 243
🕑 Added 2024-02-23 21:00:11 +0000 UTCTHE LANGUAGE OF LOVE!?! 🥰🥰🥰
Next chapter comes out on February 26th!
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Chapter 243 - A Different Language
“Piacere di conoscerti, Joey.” [Nice to meet you, Joey.]
The moment I heard the ringof the language I've not heard since my arrival in this fantasy world, everything else seemed to fade into the background. It's as if, for a brief second, Penelope and I were the only people in the entire ballroom. The chatter and the laughter of the other guests, the melodies floating through the air, even the rustle of the leaves from the magical trees adorning the room—all of it disappeared under this revelation.
"Sei Italiana?" [Are you Italian?] I ask, the words slipping out instinctively. The Italian rolls off my tongue, rusty but recognizable, a reminder of a past life that feels both distant and painfully close.
Penelope's response comes with a smile, her green eyes lighting up in recognition. "Sì, caro. Tu, invece, hai un leggero accento. Americano?" [Yes, dear. You, instead, have a slight accent. American?] Her observation is spot on, and it sparks a warmth in me that I hadn't realized I was missing.
"Sì, ma ho vissuto in Italia per qualche anno mentre imparavo a cucinare," [Yes, but I lived in Italy for a few years while I was learning to cook] I reply, the memories of those years flooding my mind with surprising clarity. The markets, the food, the language—it feels like a lifetime ago.
Around us, there’s confusion. The other guests, even those closest to us, look on with bewildered expressions, unable to understand the rapid Italian exchange. It's a surreal moment.
Penelope is striking, her black hair framing her face in soft waves, her green eyes bright and intelligent. She's gorgeous, undeniably so, and the realization that she, like me, is from Earth sends a jolt of excitement through me. "We need to talk," she says, her voice serious.
But before we can continue, Marcus, the Human-form Dragon, whose presence I had completely disregarded, steps in front of her, attempting to insert himself into the conversation by putting an arm in front of Penelope.
“You must be the Human I hear so much about,” the large, man-like Dragon says.
His interruption feels like a splash of cold water in my face.
Before he can finish, a massive female Elf strides confidently through the crowd, her presence commanding. With a single, smooth motion, she removes Marcus's arm from Penelope's path. "Boss?" she inquires, looking at Penelope for guidance.
"Let the [Archmage] be, Petra. Don’t hurt him," Penelope instructs without malice.
Hurt? I think to myself. Who’s this woman?
The notion that they could 'hurt' a Dragon makes me frown. There’s not that many people that can do that easily, right? Or have I been overestimating the strength of Dragons?
Following this Petra are two more women, each remarkable in their own right. One has skin with a greenish hue and a pair of round, expressive eyes that radiate innocence and curiosity. The other is almost ethereal in her beauty, her pale skin translucent enough to reveal the veins beneath.
[Archmage] Marcus looks confused for a moment, before some familiar faces join the conversation.
Julia, followed frantically by her daughter, Domitilla, who’s trying to restrain her, barges onto the scene. Slightly behind them, there’s my landlady and the famous [Green Mage], Agostina.
"Rotten Roots, are you the Fleshweaver?" Julia's voice, tinged with awe, cuts through the murmur of the crowd as she addresses Penelope directly. There's a reverence in her tone. Penelope smiles back with grace and nods. “Yes, Miss. May I ask for your name?”
“Rotten roots, sorry! I’m the local Adventurer’s Guild’s treasurer! My goodness, it’s great to see you here. Sorry for my impudence, my name’s Julia.”
Julia looks like a five-year-old who has just climbed into a firetruck for a ride-along.
“And you, you’re the Blade of Epretos...” Julia’s excitement is even bigger when she looks at Petra.
Petra smiles thinly and nods. She’s clearly not as warm as Penelope, but now that the [Archmage] heard her name, he takes a step back.
Who are these people?
The entire crowd around us erupts into whispers after Julia identified Petra as this ‘Blade of Epretos.’
“Mom, stop bothering them, please,” Domitilla pleads as Julia keeps geeking out in front of the quartet.
“Joey! She’s the strongest [Swordsman] in the entire continent!”
“Oh,” I look at Petra, not really knowing what to do with this information. “Cool, cool, cool.”
“Oh, my!” Julia squeals when she looks at the other two women. “The Green Fire and the Whisperer!”
The green-looking girl and the one with translucent skin give Julia a huge smile and a blank expression in return.
“Hey, hey,” the one who’s supposedly Green Fire says, shaking Julia’s hand and almost sending the Elf into an ecstasy-induced seizure, “nice to meet ya. I’m Eupraxia.”
“Mh,” the taller one replies.
Agostina, stepping forward, clears her throat, bringing a moment of clarity and grounding into the awe-struck scene.
“Petra, it’s a pleasure to meet you again,” Agostina smiles at the woman.
“Agostina, it’s been a long time,” Petra smiles. “It’s nice to meet a fellow graduate.”
“What?” I frown. “They are the same age?”
Julia almost slaps me after releasing Eupraxia’s hand. “Joey! Lady Petra is obviously at a much higher level than my stupid sister!”
“Julia,” Agostina growls at her.
“That’s why she looks so much younger!” Her sister adds, ignoring her.
“So, wait. You went to the Nine Towers? But... aren’t you a [Swordsman]?”
“Life is full of twists,” Petra declares solemnly, clearly taking my question way more seriously than I had intended it.
“Alright, cool.”
Domitilla gives me a timid wave as she curiously eyes Lucinda by my side.
“Hi, Joey.”
“Hi, Domi,” I smile.
“Domi?” I hear Lucinda’s voice from behind, so sharp that I think my back might be bleeding.
“Anyway,” I cough, “I think Penelope and I need to talk. Lucy, I’m sorry, but this is extremely important. I don’t want to leave you behind again, but...”
“It’s important,” Lucinda repeats. “I get it. You’ll tell me later.”
“Penelope?” I point at the entrance.
“Sure,” the Italian woman smiles back.
As I’m about to step away from the apparently very famous Adventurers and a Dragon, I hear the most dangerous person in the group to me say, “Joey, if you still want to have a date by the end of the night, let’s not make leaving me here to talk to other women a habit.”
I smile sheepishly at Lucinda as I step away.
