An Extra's POV: My Three Fiancees Hate Me-Chapter 46: Spell Book

Riven stared at the ground, he let out a frustrated sigh and looked up at his brother. "All you had to do was allow me to kill him, and now he is gone. There’s a psycho that knows our faces running free—who knows when he’ll come for us again," Riven said.

"Don’t pin this on me. After all, he was your problem first, and if you had not distracted me, we wouldn’t have looked away and allowed him to escape," Noel shot back.

"Bullshit," Riven said. He turned to look around, trying to see if the man was hidden anywhere. He took a few steps with his flaming sword but ultimately didn’t see anyone.

"I’m heading home," he said as he returned.

"Huh? Why?" Noel asked.

"Because I nearly got killed here, so forgive me if I don’t want to find myself in any more issues like this. My injuries from yesterday have also not healed, and I need to get potions. I’ve pushed myself too much," he said bluntly and started heading where they came from.

This decision didn’t sit well with Noel though, so he refused. "You can go on ahead. I’ll stay here," he said.

"Huh? I can’t just leave you here," Riven said.

"When did you become my guardian? The only reason that you’re here is so that you’ll show me the ropes, and as far as I am concerned, you have shown me all there is to know," he said casually.

"Come on, let’s leave this place, Noel," Riven said, getting impatient.

"Who the hell gives you the right to boss me around? You are my little brother. You don’t get to tell me what to do," Noel said, his tone high and pissed.

Riven had enough of his brother’s behavior. He flung his hand in the air and walked away, not looking back even once.

"Stupid asshole, I pray a goblin eats you," Riven muttered as he walked out.

He made his way out of the dungeon and toward the city. He stopped at a shop to get potions, but as he stood at the door about to enter, he recalled the pouches that he had gotten from those men in the dungeon.

Every good and advanced adventurer had some healing potions inside of their storage. He was certain that at least one of those pouches would have as well.

So he passed by the shop and headed home. He walked in, greeted by some maids as he passed. He didn’t see anyone from his family, though, so he simply headed to his room.

He got into the room and sat on his bed, the rays of the sun pouring through the window and directly on him. He opened his bag and pulled out the three pouches. He stuck his hands inside one and started taking out the contents.

He took out over thirty goblin crystals and twenty blood bath crystals. It was a really high amount. He was sure that they had also stolen from other adventurers.

Aside from the crystals, he pulled out some spare short swords and a stack of coins—fifty state silver coins, easily earned.

The final thing he pulled out were the potion bottles. There were three—two had a blue liquid and one had a light green liquid.

He already knew which was which: the green one was the healing potion, whereas the blue ones were to regain stamina and vitality.

He took off his armor and sat on his bed, his wounds bare. He knew he should have treated these wounds better and earlier, but he just let himself get caught up in this or that and had been bearing the pain all through.

He popped open the healing potion and gulped it down. It was not a high-grade potion, but it was immediately able to get the job done.

He saw his wounds start closing at a fast rate, fixing like they had been nothing before. Now one would wonder what the use of healers was when there were potions like this around, but the truth was that only the low-grade potions were cheap.

The one in his hand would probably go for a single silver coin, but immediately it got to mid-grade potion, the price was a whopping one gold coin—that was a hundred silver coins.

Very few people could afford the luxury of such a potion. The low-grade potion also healed some physical injuries, but when the wounds got more serious, it became a very big issue because it could not heal that, and the potions could not be stacked, as it would have the same effect as taking only one.

Luckily for Riven, his wounds fell within the range that the potion could handle, and it handled it well. In a few minutes, he was completely fine.

He placed the two vitality and stamina potions to the side and picked up the second pouch. Immediately, what he found put a smile on his face—it was a fire spell book.

He pulled out the thick book with a dark brown leather cover. He could tell that the book hadn’t been used yet and the spells were not yet learned. He opened the book just to be sure and saw the spells were intact.

He quickly closed the book to not compromise it. He took a deep breath, a smile hanging on his face. Spell books were not something common, especially in towns like this—only the rich had them.

They contained spells that someone with similar affinity could learn, but immediately one person learned the spells inside the spell book, no one else could learn them as the spells faded away.

The theory behind this was never really explained in the story—it was just a law that the author set. But many wikis said that it was just how magic worked in the world, while others said it was a push from the people on top to make sure that the spell books kept selling, since only one person could make use of the book.

Riven himself personally tilted toward the second option better—it made more sense.