Chapter 37: Chapter 37: Have I Surpassed My Mother?

As I struggled down the mountain, hauling the dragon’s massive body behind me, a sudden flurry of movement erupted, followed by a thunderous shout.

“They’re back! The dragon is here!”

The yell reverberated through the valley, and within moments, dozens of people rushed toward us. Judging by their attire and demeanor, they weren’t soldiers or noblemen’s guards. They seemed to be a mix of adventurers and mountain villagers.

They spotted us, eyes gleaming with excitement, and cheered loudly. The wild gleam in their eyes sent a shiver down my spine. Instinctively, my hand moved toward the axe strapped to my back, but the one-eyed man beside me laughed heartily.

“Relax. They’re craftsmen,” he said. “Leatherworkers and their apprentices.”

An older bald man, bent over with age, straightened and clapped his hands together. “Looks like our work here is almost done. Once we hand it over to these folks, we’re free to head back to the city.”

“Just leave it here?” I asked, glancing at the dragon’s colossal form. It was incredibly heavy, and I thought it would take a fair number of people to transport it.

The old man groaned as he arched his back. He must have been in pain—his age showed in every movement. I patted his back gently, and he nodded gratefully.

“We’ll help get it to the village,” he said with a sigh. “But after that, it’s on them. Timing’s crucial for handling the skin and organs, so the craftsmen came all the way here to work on it. The lord will probably send a cart to transport it to the city—might already be on its way.”

“It would have been easier if they’d come with us from the start,” I murmured. We could have saved both time and energy if they’d joined us in the mountains.

“Would’ve saved us from doing the job twice,” I added, half to myself. Nearby, one of the adventurers chuckled.

“No one expected it to be over so soon,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Honestly, I was watching it happen, and I still don’t believe it. Normally, these craftsmen would’ve taken a lot longer to get here, but they must have hustled once they heard the news.”

“I see.” I tilted my head, processing his words. Sure, I knew I was strong, and I realized that I’d sped things up a bit, but it was surprising to see so many people gathered. I’d thought it wouldn’t take quite so many people to deal with a single dragon.

The old bald man stretched and let out another groan. “My back… Getting too old for this adventurer life,” he muttered, then gave me a look.

“To put it simply,” he continued, “you’ve set the record for the fastest dragon kill in the kingdom. Even faster than Helga, and she’s famous for her beast hunts.”

I fell silent, feeling a strange mix of emotions.

Have I surpassed my mother?

Thinking about her brought on a strange, tangled feeling—part pride, part guilt, and a hint of embarrassment.

While I stood there lost in thought, the craftsmen busily inspected the dragon’s body. One of them cried out in dismay.

“What’s this mess?! The hide’s all scraped up from dragging it on the ground!”

“Look here,” another chimed in. “There’s pooled blood from it being carried in the same position for too long.”

“Unbelievable! Treating something this precious like it’s nothing!”

A few of the adventurers frowned at their complaints.

“They never change,” one of them muttered.

“All they care about is the hide,” another grumbled. “We dragged it all the way here, but they only see what’s in front of their noses.”

Tension brewed as an adventurer barked, “Move aside! We need to get it into the village.”

One of the craftsmen stepped forward, blocking his way as if to shield the dragon. “If you’re not going to treat it with respect, don’t touch it at all.”

It was about to turn into a full-blown argument.

One of Paul’s men approached the craftsmen, but one of them leaned forward, almost snarling. “From here on, leave it to us. Tell those brutes to keep their hands off it.”

A few adventurers scowled and stepped forward. “You wouldn’t get even one strip of hide without us bringing it to you! Who are you calling a brute?”

I wondered if I should step in and take the adventurers’ side, but before I could make a move, the old bald man approached the craftsmen. Smiling wryly, he greeted one of the older craftsmen who stood watching in silence.

“It’s been a while,” he said with a smirk.

The old craftsman sighed. “Ah, the younger ones are good kids, but a bit cocky… Sorry about that.”

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“Same goes here,” the bald man replied with a laugh. “But they’re more manageable than you were in your youth. You used to headbutt people right off the bat.”

“Well, I was young back then,” the craftsman chuckled.

The two men shared a loud laugh before the old craftsman turned to his apprentices, roaring, “Quiet, you rascals! I told you, only open your mouths when eating! Didn’t I say your ears must be full of rocks?”

The young craftsmen fell silent immediately, muttering quietly about “young people,” only to be chastised by a master who seemed even cruder.

The bald man pointed to me and introduced me with a proud grin. “This here is our rising star, Rafa. A fierce fighter who downed that dragon in no time flat. You’ll be seeing more of him, so make a good impression.”

“Pleased to meet you. My name’s Rafa.” I gave a respectful nod, which made the old craftsman squint in curiosity.

“Well, well, a polite barbarian. I didn’t know barbarians greeted people without throwing a punch first.”

The craftsman gestured for me to lean closer, which I did, curious about what he would say.

“Your face reminds me of someone,” he murmured.

My heart skipped a beat. Could it be he’d met my mother?

When he spoke again, it was as if he were looking back into a distant memory. “First time I met your mother, I asked her if that face of hers was male or female. She socked me square in the nose, knocked me out cold. When I came to, my nose was caved in. Haven’t slept right since—always have to half-sit or pass out in my chair.”

I couldn’t find words. My mother… I felt both proud and sorry at once.

The old craftsman chuckled. “If that bald fellow’s introducing you to me, I’d say you’re a capable one. You catch anything rare, like a dragon or a manticore, you bring it to me.”

I was about to ask if he’d pay well, but he raised a hand, wincing and rubbing his nose. “Agh, my nose is acting up again. Must be rain coming.”

I wondered just how many years ago he’d broken his nose. Mother hadn’t left the forest since I was born, so it had to be at least twenty years ago.

“Alright,” I agreed with a sigh.

“Good lad,” he replied, grinning.

The bald man smacked him on the back of the head. “Quit bothering my rookie!”

“Bothering? I was just… discussing business!”

“Business, my foot! Spouting nonsense, more like. Got any more of that trash talk?”

“What, trash? Says the pot calling the kettle black! You’re just jealous,” the craftsman grumbled.

The two began to bicker, grabbing at each other’s collars. Their apprentices brandished hammers and chisels, while the adventurers cracked their knuckles, ready to jump in with bare fists.

A barrel of ale appeared, and in no time, craftsmen and adventurers were gulping it down, slamming their cups together and squabbling like old friends and rivals alike.

As they brawled, a hammer soared through the air.

“Who dared throw a sacred tool?” the old craftsman’s voice boomed.

At once, the young craftsmen tucked their tools away with practiced speed. As silence fell, the adventurers began punching each other instead.

“Let’s get back to work,” the old craftsman finally said, turning to his apprentices. “The quicker we finish, the better our pay.”

The bald man signaled the unoccupied adventurers. “Let’s help out. The faster they work, the better our cut, too.”

Ignoring the brawlers, the rest of us hoisted the dragon and carried it toward the village, where another group awaited—leather-aproned craftsmen and merchant types.

“These folks handle the dragon’s innards,” the old man explained to me. “They’ll salt some parts here, and others will be sold off right away.”

When I saw a few familiar faces among the crowd, I called out. They turned, and one of the guild staff approached with a bright smile.

“You did it! Word of your exploits reached us. Well done, Rafa,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder before hurrying off again.

“From now on, the guild has its work cut out for them,” the bald man chuckled. They’d be responsible for overseeing every step of the dragon’s sale, from pricing negotiations to ensuring fair distribution among the guilds. I’d thought slaying the dragon was the hard part, but it was clear that was only the beginning of the process.

I felt strangely grounded, watching everyone go about their roles. The old man nudged me. “No time to daydream, kid. We’ve got accounting to do.”

“Accounting?” I asked.

He grinned. “Yeah, gotta tally up our pay. Won’t be much with the dragon involved, but still…” he trailed off, chuckling quietly.

‘Is this what Jenny meant?’ I wondered, recalling her request.

All we’d done so far was track daily meals and gear use. Now, it seemed we had to return and finalize those records.

Time to focus and see this through.

Paul treated us adventurers to several barrels of ale, and every night on the road back, it was a drunken fest. Human bodies, I discovered, could hold an impressive amount of alcohol.

When we returned, the place was nearly empty, with only a few administrators and some laborers left. The administrators grumbled about our “late” arrival, though I had to wonder what they were comparing us to.

Upon our arrival, they sat down with their ledgers, eager to wrap up. I joined one of our guild’s adventurers at a table, and the administrator handed him a paper.

“Sign here,” he said.

But the adventurer looked to me instead, as he’d been advised by the guild.

I scanned the document. They’d miscalculated the meal costs and even listed gear that hadn’t been used.

“This is incorrect. Also, these items weren’t provided to us,” I pointed out.

The administrator glared. “Are you calling our records inaccurate? I’m only here for signatures, so if you disagree, take it up later.”

The adventurer started to protest, but I was quicker, giving the administrator a light backhand that sent him flying a few meters across the room. He lay there, unconscious.

I grabbed another administrator by the collar. “When someone tells you your math is wrong, you apologize and correct it. Not pull an attitude. So, what’s it going to be—are you fixing it, or am I teaching you some manners?”

Shaking, he agreed to correct the errors, though it took ages. I dictated the figures, and with each correction, he sighed heavily, almost crying.

Eventually, the guild’s accounts were settled, and by then, a line of adventurers had formed around me.

“Mind helping me, too?”

“Could you take a look at mine?”

Everyone had waited patiently for my assistance.

It took hours, but I couldn’t turn them away. When it was all done, dusk was falling, and the grateful adventurers brought out ale and food, insisting I join their celebration.

“Thank you!”

“Next time, drinks are on me!”

But I just wanted sleep. Sitting in that tiny chair, poring over numbers, had left my shoulders aching.

As I nodded off by the fire, the revellers got into another brawl, as was their way. Out of nowhere, a bone came flying and struck me on the head.

I got up, scanning the crowd, spotting a tall guy sucking his fingers.

Ah, it was him.

I hurled the bone back, but it hit the person beside him—a heavyset man who’d clearly had too much to drink. Eyes glazed, he yelled and came charging at me.

The way he honed in was almost like an instinct.

Well, if he’s coming, I’ll take it.

Cracking my knuckles, I stepped forward to meet him.

Overhead, Rella chirped happily, flitting about in excitement as the commotion began anew.