Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot-Chapter 101 - 100 - The Tavern.

The group’s carriage rolled to a stop just outside the capital’s outskirts. The wind still whispered through the trees, but now it sounded more like gossip.

Jessy was the first to hop off. "Finally. If I had to hear Rufus explain cursed weaponry one more time, I would’ve become one."

"I wasn’t explaining. I was correcting your blasphemous misconceptions." Rufus followed her out with crossed arms and an offended nose.

Alex descended next, Nibbles sitting triumphantly atop his head like a slightly fuzzy crown.

Their relationship had been mended with a ritual involving dried fruits and an imaginary apology letter written in acorn dust.

Siris slithered out after them like a silent gremlin, staring at the surroundings curiously while holding Raven’s pillow.

It hadn’t been washed, but she wanted that.

She said it had Raven’s smell in it.

Kinky, sure, but no one stopped her anymore.

They’d accepted that she operated on a different logic, and according to her, only the things that were related to Raven were important.

Lia and Jake followed, both silently absorbing the surroundings.

Jake looked battle-ready, while Lia looked like she wanted a nap.

Raven was last to step off the carriage.

Before them stood what looked like an out-of-date little tavern.

Faded wooden sign.

Smoking chimneys.

Warm golden windows.

A friendly, drunk guy was already being thrown out the front door.

It looked completely cozy.

The sign above its doors said, ’The Tipsy Turnip—Eat, Drink, Forget Your Bad Life Choices.’

Jessy gave Raven a side glance. "I thought we were heading to the capital. Why the detour?"

Raven shrugged. "Thought we could use a break."

In truth, this tavern wasn’t just a stopover.

This was one of the most low-key but vital Vaise family intel hubs—disguised as a mediocre alehouse with above-average stew and highly suspicious tax filings.

They pushed open the creaky door.

Inside, laughter echoed through the air.

A bard plucked a stringed instrument that was definitely out of tune.

Beer sloshed over worn wooden tables.

A burly man arm-wrestled someone who looked like a 12-year-old blacksmith. A beautiful waitress balanced three plates and a fistful of coins in one hand.

"Sir Raven," Lia said, settling in. "This isn’t bad."

They found a large round table near the back and sat. freewebnσvel.cøm

Soon enough, they were digging into stew, bread, and drinks.

They were of legal age, and alcohol didn’t work on Vaises, so they were fine.

Alex tore into a mutton bone. "I could get used to this. Nibbles, do you want some?" He asked, holding up a chunk of meat.

Nibbles slapped it aside and turned dramatically away.

"He’s still upset I suggested dried fruit rations," Alex whispered.

"I’d be offended too," Jessy said.

Lia sipped her drink. "This is nice. Almost too peaceful."

Raven didn’t answer.

He was staring at the woman behind the counter.

She looked like a typical barkeep. Apron. Bun. Slightly annoyed resting face.

But he knew her.

Senior operative in the Vaise family. Codename: Wheat Bread.

A woman capable of baking one of the tastiest pies and interrogating nobles under the guise of delivering room service.

She glanced at him.

He nodded.

Her brow raised the slightest fraction—acknowledgment without exposure.

There was some surprise in her eyes as she didn’t expect Raven to know about this tavern’s secret, but soon, she shook off the surprise.

Her job wasn’t to be stunned but to deliver information to any Vaise who followed the protocol.

Raven also realized what she was waiting for, so chugging a glass of alcohol, he rose from the table.

Jessy raised a brow. "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom."

Alex frowned. "You didn’t eat that much—wait, are you gonna throw up? Can you not handle some drinks?"

Raven ignored them and walked to the counter.

Looking at the woman, who stared at him as if he were her new entertainment, he took a deep breath.

This was it.

The code.

From the plot, he knew that performing the code was mandatory for everyone except the family heads and the Elders.

So, despite hating it, he had to do it.

With all the grace of a drunk theater kid, Raven suddenly struck a wide-legged anime pose—one hand covering his right eye, the other dramatically pointed toward the ceiling.

Then, with unwavering conviction, he declared, "Behold... the Cursed Turnip King has awakened from his slumber! The prophecy begins—when three sausages fall under the crescent moon!!"

Silence.

Utter silence.

The bar froze.

The bartender blinked, trying to control her laughter.

She knew he was supposed to do this, but knowing and seeing were completely different feelings.

Someone dropped a spoon.

Jake stopped breathing.

Jessy leaned sideways, hiding her face behind the menu.

Rufus burst into a wheeze.

Lia choked on her fruit wine.

Alex looked like he wanted to flee the continent.

Nibbles squeaked once, fell backward off Alex’s shoulder, and rolled across the table in a dramatic faint.

Even Siris tilted her head. "He wasn’t always like that... right?"

She felt like she was discovering a new side of Raven. But this new side wasn’t something she had expected.

Raven maintained the pose for a second longer.

Then—bam!

A door slammed open behind the bar.

Out stepped a giant of a man. He was shirtless and scarred, and his arms were like battering rams.

He cracked his neck. "He said the line."

The receptionist whispered, "...You know what to do."

Raven didn’t flinch. "Here we go."

The giant lunged.

A punch flew.

Raven dipped back in his ridiculous anime pose. His foot slipped slightly, but he spun the stumble into a twirl and ducked under the man’s leg.

Another punch.

Raven dodged again by ’accidentally’ somersaulting over a stool.

To the others, it looked like Raven was dodging with drunken, unpredictable grace.

But to Raven?

’Hm, a plate five is taking the second phase of the test,’ he thought, dodging the man’s attack.

He knew that this was a part of the test as well.

Since the Vaise family obeyed the strong, he needed to defeat this man at least.

After all, only those with the strength to defeat a plate-five could access the information network of the Vaise family.

Of course, his feat shocked the receptionist and the man, but before they could say that Raven had passed the test—

—Lia stood up, her eyes wide. "HE’S BEING ATTACKED!"

But before she or anyone in the group could act, Siris moved.

Her expression twisted into something cold and feral.

In a blink, she was behind the attacker, bone blade moving toward his neck.

The man froze.

But Raven didn’t.

Because the blade’s tip had passed by him.

Seeing it move toward the man’s neck, he knew Siris would kill him if he didn’t stop her, so he pushed.

He turned slightly, dragon scales blooming over his left palm just in time to block it.

A clang rang out as bone met scaled skin.

His scales, as strong as metal, stopped Siris’s blade.

At what cost?

The blade had almost cut off his palm.

It was clear that it had intended to kill that man, and Siris had used all of her power in that attack.

For the first time, Siris was seen in action, and Raven realized that if he were to fight seriously, the victor would be hard to decide.

Rave could tell that from a single strike from Siris.

The whole tavern, on the other hand, held its breath.

Things had gotten a bit too chaotic.

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