CHAPTER 47: CHAPTER 46: SUNSET TAVERN, THE GRAY DWARF OTTO

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains into the room, and Ron had already opened his eyes from the meditation state.

Before leaving yesterday, he had already taken leave from Lady Allen, and today he decided to try and search the black market for those special materials.

Thinking of this, he once again retrieved that slightly glowing parchment, carefully examining the items recorded on it:

Dream-Eating Spider’s Eye Fluid, Moon Shadow Bat’s Heart Ash, Crystal Moss, Moonflower Pollen...

In the booklet of precautions he received last time when certified as an Elementary Apprentice, he found most of the materials listed in the "Forbidden Transactions" section.

"These things can indeed only be obtained through unconventional channels in the black market..."

Just as he was contemplating countermeasures, there came a quick knock on the door.

Ron went to open it and saw Andre dressed in practical dark casual clothes, his blond hair simply tied back, evidently prepared for the day’s "informal activities."

"Good morning, esteemed ally."

After the teasing greeting, he slipped inside without ceremony, lowering his voice after closing the door: "Have you considered today’s itinerary?"

Ron nodded, pointing to the parchment spread out on the bed: "The primary task is to find these materials, at least to get a general idea."

Andre leaned in to look, his brows gradually furrowing: "Good heavens, this list... what exactly does Lady Allen want to refine? Even the ’Thirster’s Tongue Moss’ is on there."

"You know this thing?" Ron was somewhat surprised.

"Of course, it’s a common material for advanced spells of the Curse Element." Andre’s expression turned serious:

"It’s said that to extract material potent enough to be used as a casting medium, one must let a normal person die of thirst in the desert."

Ron’s heart tightened; whatever Lady Allen wanted to refine, it didn’t seem like any benevolent Magic Potion.

But he quickly made up his mind—since he had already agreed, he must do his best to complete it.

"Luckily, there’s you, the jack-of-all-trades who knows a little about everything." He patted the blond youth on the shoulder: "Otherwise, I wouldn’t know where to start with finding these things."

"It really is an honor to be able to help Young Master Ron." Andre showed a faintly smug smile: "Regarding the black market, I do know some inside information."

He looked at the sky: "These days are a good opportunity; every month around this time, the ’Sunset Tavern’ holds a special trading event. We might get lucky."

Ron quickly packed up his personal belongings, including some Magic Stone Fragments, self-defense weapons, and a few bottles of self-made Potions, and the two of them quietly left the apprentice dormitory area.

Through a few rarely traveled paths, they gradually moved away from the center of the School toward the commoner’s settlements and marketplaces on the outskirts of the Black Mist Jungle.

"Be cautious of the surrounding spies."

Andre whispered reminders as they walked: "Though the School doesn’t explicitly prohibit apprentices from going to the black market areas, if caught directly trading prohibited items, they wouldn’t refuse the Magic Stone Fragments delivered to their doorstep."

This must be so-called... entrapment, Ron nodded, keeping it in mind, and heightened his vigilance of the surroundings.

Through his multi-profession sharpened perception, he could feel that as they approached the Black Mist Jungle’s edge, the magic power fluctuations in the air grew increasingly chaotic.

Various chaotic energy traces intertwined, forming a unique atmosphere.

Passing through several winding alleyways, they finally arrived in front of a dilapidated two-story wooden building.

"This is it—’Sunset Tavern’." Andre looked up at the shaky sign in front of the entrance:

"On the surface, it’s just an ordinary tavern, but in reality, it’s the safest underground trading place in this area."

Pushing open the creaking wooden door of the ’Sunset Tavern’, they were immediately hit by a complex aroma mixed with alcohol, tobacco, and various alien race scents.

Ron wrinkled his nose, trying to adapt to the overwhelming smell.

Inside, the lighting was dim; a few Magic Crystal Lamps barely illuminated the cramped space.

Beyond the visual and olfactory senses, the low chatter of various creatures mixed with the clinking of glasses, forming a kind of eerie harmony.

Strange-looking alien races crowded together, some with bodies as tall as mountains, yet huddled in corners sipping from giant wooden mugs of liquor;

others, small and nimble, could down a mug bigger than their heads in one go.

Their soft conversations or solitary drinking made the place appear both mysterious and dangerous.

Ron’s gaze swept across the tavern, noticing a few humans dressed in varying attire mixed in—

those in the tattered garb typical of exiles, those in noble-style luxurious robes, and others appearing to be Hunters or Mercenaries, their eyes generally watchful and sharp.

"Over there." Andre gently tugged Ron’s sleeve, speaking very quietly, gesturing with his eyes towards a corner of the bar:

"See that gray Dwarf? That’s Otto, a somewhat reliable intermediary I know."

Following his direction, Ron saw a gray Dwarf with a bushy beard, sitting at a high stool, half a mug of beer in front of him.

The Dwarf looked like a crumpled rock brought to life—his skin a grayish-brown, his calloused hands tightly clutching the mug, as if it were a priceless treasure.

The two moved towards the bar, Andre skillfully gestured to the bartender, then whispered to Ron: "Let me handle this; Otto doesn’t like strangers directly inquiring about transactions."

The bartender quickly brought over two mugs of foamy, cloudy liquid, Ron cautiously taking his, the liquid giving off a tangy, sour scent with a layer of foam on top.

Andre took a gentle sip of his, then casually turned to the gray Dwarf:

"Long time no see, Mr. Otto, today’s ale tastes just as awful as ever."

The gray Dwarf didn’t lift his head, only sliding his coarse fingers along the rim of his mug: "Oh? Which old friend has come by?"

His voice was deep and raspy, as if two rough rocks were rubbing against each other.

"The ’Guide to Highland Veins’ you helped me find last time was immensely useful."

Andre spoke in a specific code, lowering his voice even more: "Unfortunately, I encountered some trouble and had to abandon the book. Truly a pity, it was a rare treasure."

Upon hearing this, the Dwarf slowly raised his head, a pair of blue eyes beneath thick eyebrows gleaming with a shrewd light.

Those eyes, in contrast with his rugged exterior, were clear and sharp, revealing a wisdom not fitting his appearance.

"Hey, it’s you, little prince." he said softly, cautiously glancing around: "It seems you have some special needs again?"