“Magister Mulligan, what’s happening?” I say as soon as the door of my apartment closes behind me. “Why am I this angry now? Is it a side effect of the runes, or…”

The old man appears in front of me with a disapproving look. He has clearly not forgiven what I almost did back in the Dungeon.

“You passed your test as a Vanedeni, young Luciani. You did not pass the second one, though. Now, you have power flowing in your veins—more than most people could imagine. But your control over it, sadly, is none. This anger you are feeling is just what it means to grow up—you are now an adult wielding what an adult should. You are just not capable enough to control yourself.”

“So, am I a child in an adult body? Is that what you are saying?”

“What I’m saying,” Magister Mulligan stresses the words, frowning at me, “is that you are no longer an innocuous child. You gained the vision of Idner, the First [Hero]. You have inherited a skill from him. You are officially a Vanedeni. What you are not is in control of yourself. Disciplining my people has always been a nationwide matter. Family feuds and bar fights have escalated into kingdom-wide revolts that the nobles and royalty had to quench themselves. That is why on Kome, there are strict rules: you never offend a Vanedeni. You never provoke someone. If you want to slander someone’s honor, you better be ready to paint the ground with blood.”

“Old man,” I say, my voice straining, “I don’t understand. First, you say that I have no control over my anger. Then, you say that your people basically have none either, and that’s why they have laws in place?”

I feel my bad temper flaring up again and take a few deep breaths, trying not to lose my cool.

“You don’t understand,” he spits out the world with contempt, “power such as the one you wield now comes at a price. Using power indiscriminately doesn’t make you a Vanedeni; it makes you a Dragon.”

I can see the pure hatred exuding from the old man, who adjusts his huge wizard’s hat and sighs.

“We take matters very seriously, always. That is what a Vanedeni does. We are not petty Dragons. We weigh our words, our friends, enemies, and allies.”

“And what if someone tries to punch me in a tavern? I go and slaughter their whole family to the ninth generation? Is that it?”

“You punch their teeth out,” Magister Mulligan replies placidly. “Then, you stand your ground. You punish those who act with violence. If someone starts a war of conquest to subjugate the world and the other side starts subjugating people as they see fit with the excuse of war, you enter the fray, punish both, and have them pay the price.”

“This is ridiculous,” I protest. “The Vanedeni are what, the police of the world? They decide who’s wrong and who’s right?”

Magister Mulligan takes a step forward, towering over me with a deep gaze.

“We uphold our justice. We fight because that’s who we are. We are true to our duties. You, Joey Luciani, still have to figure out to what lengths you are ready to go for your duty. The difference between being a Vanedeni and a Dragon is simple: the first knows they are here to serve their duty and their ideals, and the second is only serving their own interest.

“You better figure out which one you are before people start dying because of you.”

…

As the shadows started to stretch out, I found myself heading toward the northwest corner of Amorium, which was as close to the wrong side of the tracks as you could get in this city. It was the part of the town where the Adventurers' Guild was tucked away, kinda like a forgotten toy you’ve shoved under the bed.

It feels weirdly apt how Magister Mulligan basically told me I’m an animal, and now, I have to deal with the least reputable people there are in this city: Adventurers.

However, it’s for a good cause. Amorium is about to go through some serious crap.

The Dungeon, the curse, possibly the people who have assassinated Appius going after me.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The last part had almost been lost in the bustling tornado of the splattering diarrhea that had hit my life.

I’m not even sure whom I should ask. [Captain] Drusillus, maybe? Heh, he doesn’t look like he would share much with me. Maybe if I cooperate enough, he will leak… nah, the man looks like he has a heart made of bureaucratic procedures. Maybe Clodia’s mom? Marcella looks like she’s into many things—it’s also true that she would probably make me pay for the information.

I sigh, scratching my head as I try to think of what’s going to happen next.

Irene… heh, that’s another problem.

Oh, right.

Magister Mulligan, we need to visit Antoninus’s mother, Claudia. Can you stabilize her as we work out a solution for her?

I am not your personal grimoire, young Luciani. I promised to help you with this in the name of magic and because it’s one of the disgusting effects of Mauser’s folly. However, do not take my magical knowledge for granted. You have been blessed with more than you have deserved so far.

“Good enough,” I mutter. “How hard are the next Cantrips, by the way? I’m at number twenty-two, so I’m missing… 507? Sheesh.”

You shall see when you resume your magical training. Shall I remind you that you cannot learn any spells until you finish and that not even your knowledge might be enough to—

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I cut off the old man, walking determinedly toward my destination. “It doesn’t mean I won’t try my hardest.”

…

The whole place has a sort of 'no-good-deeds-done-here' vibe as if it were the kind of place your mom warned you about when you were a kid. Magister Mulligan has basically told me that I'm a walking, talking bomb with a short fuse. Now, I'm about to head into a building full of people who are probably more explosive than me. Great.

The afternoon sun hits the cobblestones, making them shimmer in a cool, grungy way.

The guild building itself looks like it could use a break, though. It's a gigantic, old, rundown thing, its wooden beams worn out and weather-beaten. I bet it has seen more adventures than most people inside. The sign above the door, with the words 'Adventurers' Guild' barely visible, sways slightly in the wind, creaking like an old man's knee.

I stop in front of the building for a second, examining the shoddy exterior. The paint is peeling off in places, revealing the tired, old wood underneath. The roof is covered in patches of moss, like a bad case of dandruff. The windows are dirty, grimy, really, as if someone started to clean them but gave up halfway.

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and step inside. I can't shake off the feeling that I'm just jumping from one frying pan into another, but hey, isn't that what I do, Lady Luck?

As soon as I step inside, the atmosphere shifts. Everything is fully illuminated by orange [Light] spells hanging from the tall ceiling, and the crowd is roaring.

What the—

I take a step back out of the door, and everything goes silent again.

An Enchantment?

I take another step in, then out. Then in. Then out.

Huh.

“Joey Luciani,” a voice thunders above all others as I see a huddled mass of adventurers part to reveal [Captain] Drusillus dressed in full armor. With his armor on, the man looks several inches taller and much more menacing than before.

“Hello,” I say, taking a few steps toward the crowd as everything suddenly goes silent, and all eyes are on me.

“Is that the Human?” Someone laughs out loud.

“These damn Humans, what now?” Another says from the opposite corner of the place.

“Yes, people,” I say out loud, bothered, “the big, bad Human is here. Oh no, let’s run; he’s going to steal our panties.”

Several people erupt into laughter after a few stunned seconds, with some actually falling from their stools with a drink in their hands, making a big mess on the ground. A big, hunky Elf, though, steps up from his stool and comes in between me and the [Captain].

“Are you looking for trouble, Human?”

I already have my fist balled when a much lither Elf puts a hand on the man’s shoulder, and pain explodes all over the big guy’s face.

“Sit down, kid,” the Elf says, throwing the man aside like a ragdoll before scanning me from head to toe.

I am taken aback by this guy’s beautiful face. He’s blonde with sharp facial traits and the squarest jaw I’ve seen in my life. He looks like he could put on a suit and give a run for their money to any male model in existence back on Earth.

“Hello, young man,” the man says suavely, “we have not met, but I’ve heard lots about you.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised.

“Joey,” I hear a familiar voice, and I see a twitching figure, shorter than this man but bearing a striking resemblance to him.

“Truffles?” I ask.

“I am Chrysantus, Truffles’s father,” the man says, extending his hand.

As soon as I shake it, the guy squeezes mine with some serious strength.

I smile back and squeeze back.

Chrysantus winces.

“Good shake,” I smile and give the man my custom wink, taking my hand back.

“Interesting,” the man says, nursing his hand. “My son told me many things about you.”

“Did he now?” I look at Truffles, who just stares back at me plainly.

“Excuse me,” a woman, elegant and clearly upset, pushes Chrysantus to the side and looks at me with a disdainful look. “Are you the one implicating my child in all these—”

“SILENCE!” I hear a roar from [Captain] Drusillus, who’s got a big, pulsing vein on his forehead. “We are here to discuss matters concerning Amorium’s security! Joey Luciani is the only one who’s survived this Dungeon so far. We’ll gather all the information from him and organize a Named-Adventurer-led expedition to secure any exit the Dungeon has.”

“Aye,” I say, patting Truffles on the shoulder and stepping closer to the table where the map I drew for the [Captain] is currently laid out.

“Before we start, Drusillus,” I hear Chrysantus say, “I actually have a little announcement regarding the Human.”