Chapter 45 Many Questions, Few Answers

“I’m sorry…” He apologized.

“Don’t be. It’s my own fault for being rusty,” Julius chuckled.

“–Still, I should’ve listened.”

“Maybe, maybe not. You made your own call, though. I’m not going to say I was happy about it, but you did stay there–you chose to fight alongside me, and it looks like you saved your old man’s ass,” Julius smiled.

The pat on the shoulder he received from his father sent a jolt of pain through his body, causing him to wince as Julius nervously retreated his hand with a “My bad.”

“Emilio, do you remember what happened?” Julius asked.

Of course, he’d been racking his brain on that question himself. There wasn’t much else he could do but sit with his thoughts, anyway.

He shrugged his shoulders, sitting up against the wall, “…I remembered you defending me, then…I sorta blacked out from there.”

“…I see…” Julius said.

“But, I remembered bits and pieces–mostly how I felt during that blackout,” he said.

These words interested his father, who looked up at him with a look in his eyes as if saying “go on.”

He nodded and continued, “I remember how my heart was beating–it was like it was slamming against my chest. It was all I could hear. Then, it felt like there was lava in my veins. It was so hot, but for some reason, it didn’t hurt at all,” he looked at his hands, “…I think it might just be the fever, though.”

“It’s not.”

–Julius said this so confidently and firmly in a swift response that he was taken aback; he looked at his father.

“‘It’s not’?” He repeated.

There was silence from Julius for a minute as the man looked down as if contemplating something before finally looking back up at his curious son.

“…Emilio, I think it’s about time I tell you about your blood–our family…not just the Dragonhearts, but the Omnisuls, as well,” Julius told him without any playfulness in his words.

“–“

This is something he had been waiting on for years. It had been a question he kept locked inside of himself out of trust for his parents, and now, that was finally being opened.

“I’ll need you to listen closely, Emilio. Alright?”

“Alright,” he nodded.

Julius exhaled, running his fingers through his dark tufts, “The Dragonhearts–our family–is just one branch of a larger bloodline–the “Omnisuls”–one of the most powerful families in all of Milligarde.”

This information widened his eyes, “How…? I mean, I would’ve heard of the Omnisuls if they were as big of a deal as you’re saying.”

“Sorry, Emilio…” Julius said, “…Your mother and I made sure to keep books out of reach that talked about them. It was for your sake.”

“–“

He didn’t know how to process or accept that, but he knew better than to throw a fit right now. This was the moment he’d wanted–he was finally being trusted with this information.

“Anyway…just know that the Omnisul family has been influential in Milligarde almost since its foundation. What matters is the “Dragonheart” branch–us. There didn’t used to be a Dragonheart branch, but during the “War of Man”–things got desperate,” Julius explained, “One of our ancestors, Dedrick Omnisul, made a pact with an entity known as the ‘Divine Dragon’; I don’t know what sort of deal was made, but our ancestor managed to earn the blood of the Divine Dragon.”

“–” He listened curiously.

It was rare for his father to speak so elegantly, but he realized what the reasoning for this was: it was likely due to his father trying to hide his noble heritage.

“The blood of the Divine Dragon was powerful. This strength allowed Dedrick to fight on the frontlines himself, but the Divine Dragon aided Milligarde as well. I don’t know the whole story…A lot of it has been wiped out, but…from there, the blood of the Divine Dragon was passed down to Dedrick’s children. This strength created some sort of gap between him and the other Omnisul members–Dedrick was forced to relinquish his inheritance, and so the “Dragonheart” branch was created. We were stripped of our inheritance and given a small plot of land out here to live,” Julius told him.

He was starting to realize what this explanation meant and how it connected to what he had experienced; the burning blood, the rapid heartbeats, the adrenaline–all of it.

The “Dragonheart System”…Is that what that was before? He questioned.

“Still, over the years, the blood of the Divine Dragon hasn’t dwindled. As you can see with your old man here, that blood makes us badasses,” Julius smirked before focusing again, “–Though, it’s said that there is a rare occurrence with our bloodline…somebody “blessed” by the Divine Dragon–they’re known as the “Dragon King”…but, it’s been over a century since the last one.”

“What’re you saying, father…?”

He asked this question, but he already knew what Julius was trying to tell him. There was that look of a revelation sitting in the eyes of his youthful father.

“I think–no, I’m pretty damn sure you’re this “Dragon King”, Emilio. Right now, I’d say you’re more of a newt, but that’s beside the point. The blood of the Divine Dragon thrives in your veins. I saw it–you demolished that orc like it was nothing. I almost felt scared there for a minute,” Julius told him.

“…’Dragon King’…? What’s that mean for me?” He asked, “…Why’d you hide the truth about our lineage until now?”

Julius didn’t seem willing to fully answer that as he scratched his chin, “There are a lot of things you don’t know, Emilio. The world is a complicated place. Still, now that I’ve seen the potential you have…Emilio, once your lessons with Celly are over–we’ve decided: you’ll become an adventurer.”

His eyes lit up momentarily, though he still didn’t know what to make about all of this new information poured onto him.

“…Adventurer? Four more months, then…” He muttered.

Julius stood up, “I started when I was younger than you. So, I’d advise you to train even harder. The world is full of things way more frightening than that orc. You’ll want to blow those guys away.”

He nodded, “Alright…”

During the next couple days, he spent his time in bed recovering, studying his grimoires while Irene practiced her reading and writing in the same room.

Though she seemed to be doing something she made an effort to hide from him; there were wood chips scattered on the floor and paint buckets left around the hall.

What’s she doing? He questioned.

He wasn’t aware of any new hobbies or teachings Irene took up, but he chose not to pry if she was choosing to hide it.

After recovering, his tutelage with Celly continued on seamlessly–getting back into the groove of learning and casting spells in the tranquil fields of Yullim was fulfilling for him.

Again and again, he was amazed by the silver-haired young woman’s knowledge and natural grace with magic, and she was in awe of his talent and ability to adapt quickly to new obstacles in front of him.

“Have you been looking into the other book I gave you?” Celly asked.

“The one about spirit arts?” He replied.

“Yeah, that one–have you been studying it?” Celly clarified.

He stayed silent for a moment before shaking his head, “No. I…didn’t quite get it.”

“I see,” Celly seemed surprised for a moment, “That’s fine. Just focus on what’s in front of you, then.”

As they talked, he was practicing spells still, expending mana while at the same time getting used to naturally calling upon the new magecraft he was learning.

Using mana wasn’t a bad thing–in a controlled environment, at least. Celly told him that in order to increase your natural “reservoir” of mana, you have to use it.

It’s sort of like a muscle, he thought.

Though Celly did point out it wasn’t completely necessary since his natural mana reservoir was far above the norm–but even she didn’t know the full scope of it.

Another two months had passed, leaving only two remaining before his time with Celly would end and she would have to return to her academy.

FWOOSH. FWOOSH. FWOOSH.

He flung miniature cyclones around the fields with swipes of his wand, conjuring the spirals of wind that tore up the flowers from the soil.

“Emilio…” Celly spoke his name softly.

“–” He didn’t respond.

“Hey.”

He finally stopped, swiping his wand again to disperse the small cyclones, breathing out as he looked up at the half-elf girl.

“What’s wrong? You seem impatient,” Celly asked worriedly.

There was always that warm kindness that exuded from the demure girl; it wasn’t that of maternal care, but more akin to the gentleness of a loving elder sister.

“–I don’t know…” He muttered.

“You can tell me, Emilio,” Celly smiled softly, kneeling down beside him.

He sat down on the small incline of the grass hill, placing his arms over his knees with a somber look in his eyes.

“You’ll have to leave soon, won’t you?” He asked quietly.