Day 25.
Before Rian left for the market, he stood in front of the old woman, Elara, whom Lara had found. She was mixing herbs in a stone bowl.
Rian narrowed his eyes. Was she just a village healer, or something more?
[Ding! Target Analysis: Elara]
Class: Hedge Alchemist (Level 2).
Specialty: Organic Extraction.
Potential: Can create "Frost-Bite Salve" and "Weak Acids" from local moss.
Loyalty: 60 (Grateful for safety).
"She is legit," Rian murmured. "Lara was right."
He gave Elara a nod. "Make as much medicine as you can. We will need it."
The Crossroads Market
Two hours later, Rian, Hance, and Varg (the ex-bandit leader, now chief bodyguard) arrived at the "Crossroads Market."
It was a neutral trading zone near the border. Merchants from the South brought grain and cloth; hunters from the North brought furs. It was dirty, noisy, and dangerous.
Rian's sled was loaded with 20 High-Quality Steel Axes made by Grom.
"Look at that shine!" a merchant shouted, running his finger over Grom's axe. "This isn't brittle iron. This is tempered steel! I've never seen such craftsmanship in the North."
Rian smiled. "5 Silver Coins per axe. Non-negotiable."
The merchant grumbled but paid. Grom's tools were masterpieces compared to the trash usually sold here. Rian walked away with a heavy bag of 1 Gold Coin (100 Silver).
He bought the essentials first:
Salt: For preserving fish.
Thick Cloth: For winter clothes.
Oil: For the lamps.
"We are done, My Lord?" Varg asked, eyeing a tavern.
"Not yet," Rian said, stopping in the middle of the muddy street.
The mechanical chime rang.
[Ding! Daily Intelligence Report - Day 25]
[1. Market Opportunity: Hidden Asset]
In the "Discount Slave Tent" (Sector 4), there is a crate marked "Sick Demihumans."
Target: The small, hooded figure in the corner (Tag #404).
Appearance: Looks like a starving human child with a skin disease.
Reality: It is a Wood Elf disguised with mud and magic to hide their pointed ears.
Skill: [Chloromancy] (Plant Communication). Can accelerate crop growth by 200%.
Rian's heart skipped a beat.
An Elf? Here?
Elves were rare. High nobles paid thousands of gold for them. If this trader knew what he had, the price would be astronomical.
"Follow me," Rian whispered to Varg. "And keep your hand on your sword."
The Discount Tent
The tent smelled of rot and misery. Cages were stacked with Goblins, Kobolds, and "defective" humans.
A greasy slaver was kicking a cage. "Quiet, you filth! Or no water today!"
Rian walked in. The slaver saw Rian's clean clothes and Varg's terrifying scar. He immediately put on a fake smile.
"Welcome, Noble Lord! Looking for a goblin miner? Or perhaps a beast-man for the arena?"
Rian looked bored. "I need farmhands. Cheap ones."
"Farmhands?" The slaver pointed to a group of sturdy Orcs. "These are strong."
"Too expensive to feed," Rian waved his hand. He walked towards the back, where the "rejected" stock was kept.
He stopped in front of a small cage. Inside sat a figure huddled in a dirty cloak. It looked small, frail, and covered in green blotches (probably mud mixed with herbs to look like a plague).
"What is that?" Rian asked, pointing to Tag #404.
"That?" The slaver laughed. "A waste of space. Some mute kid we found in the woods. Has some skin fungus. I was going to drown it in the river tomorrow."
"I'll take it," Rian said casually.
The slaver blinked. "My Lord, it's sick. It might infect your other slaves."
"I have an alchemist who needs test subjects for a new poison," Rian lied smoothly. "It's cheaper than using a dog."
The slaver grinned. A cruel noble. He understood that.
"50 Silver Coins."
"5 Silver," Rian countered. "For a dying kid? You should pay me to take the corpse away."
"10 Silver. And that's a gift."
Rian threw 10 silver coins on the table. "Unlock it."
The Unveiling
Back on the sled, away from the market, Rian watched the huddled figure. The "kid" was shaking, terrified, expecting to be used for poison experiments.
"Varg, stop the sled," Rian ordered.
Rian grabbed a canteen of water and a clean cloth. He approached the figure.
"Stay back!" a soft, melodic voice hissed. The figure pulled a hidden wooden shiv (knife).
Varg reached for his axe, but Rian raised a hand. "Peace."
Rian looked at the figure.
"The mud on your ears... it's drying up. The 'fungus' is just crushed berries."
The figure froze.
Rian poured water on the cloth and gently wiped the figure's cheek. The green blotches vanished, revealing pale, flawless skin.
He wiped the hair. The pointed tips of long, elegant ears poked out.
A Wood Elf.
Young, with emerald green eyes filled with fear and defiance.
"You are a Wood Elf," Rian stated calmly. "Specifically, one with an affinity for plants."
The Elf gasped. "You... you can see through the glamour? Are you a Mage?"
"No," Rian tapped his head. "I just have good Intel."
He handed the canteen to the Elf.
"I didn't buy you to test poisons. And I didn't buy you for your looks."
Rian pointed towards the distant Fort Blackiron.
"I have a field of Iron-Husk Barley that is struggling to grow in the cold. I hear your people can sing to the earth and make it listen."
The Elf lowered the shiv, confused. "You want me to... farm?"
"I want you to be my Head Agriculturist," Rian corrected. "Feed my city, and I promise you protection from every slaver in the North. No chains. Just work."
The Elf looked at Rian, then at the vast, frozen wasteland.
"My name is Caelum," the Elf whispered. "And if you have soil... I can make it bloom."
Rian smiled.
He had gone to buy salt. He came back with the secret to infinite food.
[Ding! Special Unit Acquired: Wood Elf (Caelum)]
[Agriculture Bonus: +200% Growth Speed Unlocked]
"Let's go home," Rian ordered. "The barley is waiting."
End of Chapter 23