The Elf Maiden

5 years before the Era of the Fallen

Northern Countries

The fortress city of Rogley

Today's sunlight was very pleasant, warming people all over.

The streets were bustling with crowds, and roadside peddlers enthusiastically introduced their wares to passing pedestrians.

From time to time, small magic devices and all sorts of magical tomes could be seen on the small stalls, and some spells could even be learned and used by ordinary citizens. On large buildings, many decorative objects made with magic were also visible.

After the Great Mage Flamme passed away, the "world where everyone can use magic" she anticipated seemed to gradually become reality.

Though not comparable to Eisberg, the imperial capital of the Central Nations, Rogley was still considered one of the relatively prosperous cities in the Northern Countries region.

Rock carried a sack on his back as he walked down the street, humming an out-of-tune little ditty while children frolicked and played past him from time to time.

When passing through the center of the city, he could not help casting a deep gaze at the statue of Himmel erected in the middle of the plaza.

He was a reincarnator, having been reborn into this Western fantasy world years ago due to an accidental death.

Yet after accepting the body owner's memories, he was shocked to discover that the other party was actually a Shadow Warrior, lurking here all along under the identity of Galan the apothecary.

As a special operations agency established during the Unified Empire era specifically to deal with mages, Shadow Warriors not only grew up without names, but were also dispatched everywhere to blend into locals under various identities, with the mission of assassinating assigned targets.

Not lying low within the empire, but coming to the Northern Countries instead? How strange...

And because of that, he seemed to have been forgotten by the organization. Not only had he received no contact for years, but the target he was supposed to monitor had also passed away years ago, meaning the current Galan was completely in an "unemployed" state.

Only the commander who originally assigned him knew his mission, and even the identity information had been destroyed before departure; perhaps that commander had died in some mission.

That's fine too.

He could not help muttering silently.

After all, the work Shadow Warriors did consisted entirely of assassination missions, and if he were called back and rushed to the front lines, he might end up sacrificing his life for the country right after transmigrating.

Living a plain and peaceful life was far more comfortable indeed.

After a long gaze, he looked away.

Given the current year, perhaps he would even get to see this hero who defeated the Demon King with his own eyes in the future...

Striding through the noisy crowd, he turned into a secluded corner following his memories.

In the dim alley, a peculiar odor hung in the air, dampness mingled with a unique faint fragrance.

Galan pushed open an old wooden door beside him.

The "creak creak" sound was extremely grating.

The furnishings inside the room were very messy.

The cabinet was left unclosed, the table was covered with densely written scrolls and bottles filled with differently colored potions, and overturned wine bottles lay on the floor.

The candle flickered the moment the door was pushed open, making the room grow alternately bright and dark.

"Rock, can't you tidy up properly? Don't let my needed medicinal herbs get soaked in wine someday."

Galan pinched his nose, looking at the short man walking out from the inner room with a speechless expression.

"Hehe, it's not the first day you've known me. I've never messed up the things you want."

Rock rubbed his hands with a cheap smile, his face flushed red and reeking of alcohol, clearly hungover once more.

He walked over to the wall, familiarly pulling an exquisitely carved wooden box out from a hidden compartment of the large cabinet, and carefully opened the lid. Several wisps of thick mist drifted out, with a purple medicinal flower resting right in the center.

"The Purple Moon Dragon Grass you wanted arrived the night before last, but preserving it took quite a bit of effort on my part."

He muttered, sounding somewhat resentful about this troublesome chore.

This box was enchanted with magic, and Galan could sense the magical reaction emanating from the wooden box. This rare herb not only grew in extremely rugged terrain, but generally withered naturally and lost its medicinal efficacy within four hours of being picked. Keeping it preserved until now truly required considerable effort.

However, as a well-known underground herb dealer in the Northern Countries, Rock naturally possessed deep proficiency in this area, which was why Galan continually pre-ordered various rare medicines from him to better maintain his identity as an apothecary.

Although he seemed to have been forgotten by now, he had long since accepted the tranquil life of Galan the apothecary.

"I get your meaning. Including the deposit given previously, let's call it four Shtrel Silver Coins total, alright?"

This was a significant sum. The originally agreed-upon price was actually three silver coins, but looking at Rock's expression, it was obvious he wanted to extract a bit more from him. Yet Galan did not skimp either; although Shtrel Silver Coins were the most valuable currency among circulating silver coins, even at this price, others might not necessarily be able to secure Purple Moon Dragon Grass of such fine quality for him.

One had to know that as an apothecary, the selection of medicinal herbs was extremely rigorous. Even a slight loss of medicinal efficacy could lead to failure when refining medicine.

"I knew you were a sharp one! Doing business with a smart person is just comfortable." Rock laughed heartily, his lips unable to keep from curling upward—it seemed he had made a huge profit this time too.

Accepting the four gleaming Shtrel Silver Coins that Galan pulled out from his pouch, he bit into them with his wine-stench-filled mouth to verify they were indeed genuine.

"Pleasure doing business~"

"So stinky... Even if you gave me the money back right now, I wouldn't want it anymore." Galan pinched his nose, looking at him with utter disgust. "I don't need any herbs for a while. I'll contact you next time."

Carefully packing away the wooden box, he placed it into the sack on his back. Confirming he needed nothing further, Galan turned and prepared to leave.

"Hey!"

Seeing Galan about to walk out the door, Rock's eyes flashed as if suddenly recalling something, and he hurriedly called out to him.

"Hm?"

"Speaking of which, yesterday an underground mercenary group shoved some 'heavy goods' on me. I wonder if you'd be interested... First off, you can't go spreading this around after seeing it. This really has nothing to do with me."

Seeing Rock's somewhat conflicted expression at the moment, Galan's interest was instantly piqued.

What kind of item could this old fox with over a decade of experience call "heavy goods"?

He knew that before stepping into the drug trade, Rock had also engaged in many gray industries and was well-traveled. He had even worked as an intelligence boss, which was a huge part of the reason for their long-term cooperation. When he first arrived here, Galan's information about this place was extremely scarce, and most of his intelligence came from Rock.

Judging by his evasive wording, it appeared to be something unmentionable after all.

"Take me to see it."

Thinking of this, Galan simply put down his bag and followed Rock into a deeply concealed, gloomy room.

The room displayed various rare herbs, magic devices, and other small objects that left him in awe. They were all valuable, high-grade goods; even the households of ordinary nobles would find it difficult to amass such a rich collection.

"[Magic that keeps one from being bitten by mosquitoes]—this surely isn't the heavy goods you mentioned, is it? Come to think of it, I actually do have a need for this."

Galan glanced around Rock's collection and even spotted some strange magic spells, casually picking one up to flip through while teasing.

It was indeed just like when he read manga back then: after the Great Mage Flamme spread magic, human mages always managed to invent some wondrous folk magic.

Like the kind Frieren would take a fancy to.

Galan thought to himself secretly.

"Right in here."

Rock rounded a corner, leading to a hidden chamber at the very end of the room. Galan had not expected that a house in this alley could possess such a large space.

Pushing open the door, the hidden chamber unexpectedly lacked clutter, and its sole light source was an oil lamp, casting a dim glow.

Aside from a bed, the only thing meeting the eye was a blonde girl sitting upon it.

Her long, pointed ears signaled her identity as an elf.

The girl heard the two people's movements and raised her head slightly, her eyes hollow and devoid of luster.

Aside from her delicate and petite face bearing no obvious wounds, she had several bruises on her body, exposed outside her thin white robe as if she had suffered cruel abuse.

Galan could tell at a glance that she was injured by blunt force objects.

Layers of bandages were also wrapped around her arms and legs, and the bandage at her ankle was soaked through with blood, presumably injured by a bow and arrow.

"Did you do this to her?"

"Hey! I already said it has nothing to do with me. When those mercenaries forcefully shoved her onto me, she was already like this. They probably wanted to sell her outside but couldn't, so they had no choice but to dump this hot potato on me to handle. Come to think of it, I'm the one who bandaged her wounds."

Seeing Rock argue his case aggressively, Galan said no more, a rising disgust toward that group of elf-hunting mercenaries blooming in his heart.

[Human trafficking] had long been strictly prohibited by various nations, and absolutely no market for it existed out in the open, yet it was actually happening here in this borderland.

Even in his original world, human trafficking was considered a crime against humanity, yet they even dared to traffic elves.

"Her tribe was massacred by demons, and she was the only survivor who escaped. Encountered by hunting mercenaries in the Northern Forest, those mercenaries got ideas and captured her." Rock swept a glance at the elf girl, his eyes carrying a hint of pity and sympathy as well.

"I called you here to have you deal with this elf. You know, I'm no philanthropist; I don't have the energy to take care of her. I heard that organs from elves are all fine medicinal ingredients for alchemy—heh, ten silver coins! How about you buy her?" He stared at Galan, the expression on his face exceptionally eerie, his deep black pupils resembling a bottomless ancient well that made one's spine chill.

Hearing that she was to be sold off as potion material, a look of terror appeared on the elf girl's face. The calves beneath her long robe trembled slightly, and her brown eyes looked toward Galan nervously, appearing pitiful.

Galan turned to look at Rock, his expression somewhat surprised and repulsed. Although he knew Rock was no good person, he had not expected him to lack a bottom line to this extent or speak such words.

He was no psychotic serial killer and had never thought of refining medicine using elf organs. Even during assassination missions as a Shadow Warrior, he never killed anyone outside his target list.

"Just kidding."

Seeing the other's reaction, Rock suddenly put away his creepily cunning smile and burst into laughter instead, the speed of his facial expression changes astonishingly fast.

"I just figured you're still a decent guy, and reckoned that if you bought her, she wouldn't have it too miserable." He stepped forward and patted Galan's shoulder, assuming the appearance of a sincere, good buddy.

"...Five silver coins." Galan wore a deadpan expression and extended five fingers.

He was somewhat speechless toward this profiteering drama queen of an old friend. If Rock truly were some heinous fiend, he probably would have taken action to eliminate him long ago.

"Hey hey! You don't bargain like that!"

"Six, no more. This isn't a small amount of money either, and if I don't buy her, you'll have a hard time offloading her anyway."

Because he truly could not find a buyer, Rock had spent only five silver coins to acquire this elf from the mercenaries.

"...Suddenly I kind of hate doing business with smart people." He massaged his forehead in agony, thought it over, and ultimately gave up the idea of raising the price—after all, deep down he didn't care much for this sort of trade either.

"Pleasure doing business."