Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 59: The Tavern’s Grand Opening
As the combustible materials disappeared, the fiery magic within the potion dispersed into the air, scattering in all directions. Merlin watched the charred corpse before him, along with the wizard who had been struck by lightning and turned to blackened ash. Slowly, the tension that had gripped him melted away, though a lingering fear still made him glance nervously around. His fingers clenched tightly around the necklace at his neck, as if it were a lifeline against any unseen attacker who might still strike.
After a long moment spent ensuring no one remained, Merlin exhaled a shuddering breath and collapsed onto the ground. His gaze fell upon the scorched, unrecognizable bodies before him. A wave of nausea churned in his stomach, and a dizzy haze clouded his mind.
Killing… it did not feel good. This was Merlin’s first time taking a life. Yet, the innate blood of the Leo family that ran through him seemed to temper his fear—something primal in him whispered that death was not entirely unknown territory.
“Damn it… who wants me dead? Who did I offend? Kaelos?” Merlin muttered, rising to his feet and helping the carriage driver beside him, who was still pale with shock.
“You… you alright?” he asked.
“I… I’m fine…” the driver stammered, glancing anxiously at the nearby carriage. Fortunately, the horses had been spooked by the earlier battle and bolted some distance away, sparing them from any further danger.
Merlin’s eyes returned to the charred remains. Everything the attackers had carried had been consumed by fire. “Damn it… who were these people? I have no clue.”
“Master, these men… they might have been members of the Rat Gang from the Lower District,” the driver said, leading his horse closer.
“You recognize them?” Merlin asked.
“When this group attacked, I saw the marks on their faces. They bear the sign of the Rat Gang,” he replied.
Merlin climbed into the carriage and drew a handful of gold coins from his pocket, placing them in the driver’s hands. “Tell me everything about this Rat Gang. Consider this a reward for your carriage and for buying information.”
The driver’s wide eyes shifted from fear to sheer delight. The coins numbered at least twenty—enough to match one or two months’ earnings.
“Master, there are quite a few gangs in the Lower District of the Arcane Capital. The Rat Gang is one of them. Usually, they extort protection fees, act as enforcers, and do… less savory work,” he explained.
“I’ve heard that the gangs in the Lower District all have some connection to the Assassin’s Guild or the Killer’s Guild. Master, you should consider carefully who you might have offended.”
Merlin felt his suspicion of Kaelos diminish. Though he hated to admit it, the proud elves would never associate with humans from the Lower District. Even meeting them face-to-face was a form of desecration in their eyes.
Then who truly wanted me dead? Merlin’s mind raced inside the carriage, considering whether he had overlooked anything.
Suddenly, a thought struck him: the death of his original self—could it be connected to this attack? Life in the Arcane Academy had been so safe and comfortable that he had nearly forgotten.
If this were true, his current situation was far more perilous than he had realized.
His attackers must have known him well—or at least, they believed they did. Before his transmigration, Merlin had been nothing more than a talentless mage, a mere vessel of raw magical power. The Rat Gang members who had attacked him were second-tier in strength, while the wizard who had joined them had been third-tier.
The ambush had been meticulously designed to kill him with ease. But they were unaware that Merlin now was no longer the person he had once been. Not to mention, he had explosive fire and lightning potions at his disposal.
Even without these potions, Merlin had many alchemical tools, though he still felt his defensive measures were insufficient. He made a mental note to acquire more defensive alchemical equipment—preferably, passive mechanisms that would trigger automatically.
Upon arriving in the Arcane Capital, Merlin dismounted and headed to the tavern where his parents worked. He straightened his clothes and resolved not to tell them about the attack—he would try to handle it himself first, and only seek their help if necessary.
The tavern had transformed completely. Once dilapidated, the building now bore the handiwork of a master Dwarven architect, radiating a sense of ancient grandeur.
The sign had changed from wooden to metallic, decorated with golden paint and vivid colors depicting a slightly tipsy dwarf raising a beer bottle in a triumphant thumbs-up. The tavern’s name had changed from “Dwarves Approve” to “Even Dwarves Go Crazy.
Broken windows were replaced with large glass panels framed in wrought iron, offering a clear view of the bustling interior.
The entrance was a grand, open doorway of thick oak, flanked by decorative wooden barrels.
Merlin pushed the door open, stepping inside to see the layout he had carefully designed. The tavern now had the warm, spacious feeling of a modern barbecue restaurant, complete with a large central fireplace.
The walls were adorned with exquisite tapestries and paintings depicting hunting scenes, religious stories, and historical events. Tables and chairs were finely carved wood, polished to a gleaming finish, with thick furs or embroidered cushions on the seats.
Behind the bar, rows of barrels and bottles were displayed, and the counter itself was decorated with copper ornaments and intricate wood carvings.
Merlin’s mother, Kanna, was busy greeting customers, holding two frothing mugs of beer, bubbles spilling over the rims.
“Merlin! My dear son!”
The moment she saw him, she shoved the beers into the hands of two dwarves and hurried over, lifting him into a tight embrace.
“It’s been so long—I’ve missed you so much,” Kanna murmured, kneading his head and cheeks with her soft hands.
Merlin struggled for breath, just as Pate rushed out from the kitchen holding a skewer of meat. “My son is here? Where is he? Let your father see!”
“I… Mother, Father… what is going on?” Merlin asked, confused. He had thought his parents had delayed opening the tavern—how had they opened early?
At a nearby table, Otto, burping and holding up his beer, called out drunkenly, “Hey! Big nephew, long time no see! How have you been?”
“Oh? So this is Merlin? Handsome little guy,” another dwarf commented.
“He’s way better looking than those annoying elves!”
“If I had that face, I’d never want for food or drink. All those big-bottomed girls would line up to throw money at me!”
A group of dwarves leered at Merlin, spouting crude adult language.
“Pate, when are the skewers coming?”
“Coming! Coming right away!” Pate muttered, momentarily frustrated as he returned to the kitchen to continue grilling.
Kanna led Merlin to the bar, gesturing to greet customers.
“Mother, why is the tavern open already?” Merlin asked.
Kanna pushed a beer toward a dwarf and replied, “It’s your Uncle Otto, always boasting about how good our barbecue is and how perfect it is with beer. Your father even prepared marinated edamame and peanuts early. The dwarves got addicted, helped us renovate quickly, and insisted on eating. We had no choice but to open early.”
Merlin could only shake his head, a mix of amusement and disbelief crossing his face.