A Legendary Mage's Eye

Afternoon was the busiest time on Rogley Market Street.

Colorful flags fluttered over the road leading straight from the city gate to Central Square, and crowds streamed along it.

It was brimming with a vitality unique to times of peace.

After parting ways with Theresia, Galan twisted his way through the crowded street, intending to leave.

...This road was also the only way home.

After having no choice but to step on several people's feet, he finally made it through the most crowded stretch.

He slowed his pace, and the road ahead opened up a little.

Even the air he breathed felt fresher.

While he was squeezed into the crowd, he had also had to take care not to knock the Ebony Staff on his back against anything.

It had made walking especially awkward.

Some mages normally kept their Staffs put away with Wand-Storing Magic, summoning them out of thin air when they needed them.

But he didn't know that spell, so he could only pay extra attention as he walked.

His pace sped up and slowed down with his shifting mood.

Would she like it?

She probably would. Theresia said so herself just now.

Even so, he still felt a little anxious.

His expression was somewhat bitter.

...It was hard on a boy experiencing his first stirrings of love.

Fierce arguments between travelers and peddlers could be heard around him from time to time.

They would be locked in a standoff over the price of some unusual-looking magic device or antique.

But Galan, who had lived here for a long time, was used to it.

He still remembered that when he had first started spending time around here, he had often been just like them.

Hoping to strike gold, he would buy things that looked strange and curious.

But whenever he took them to Rock for appraisal, Rock would laugh at him for ages because he had paid a high price for yet another fake.

Over time, under Rock's merciless mockery,

Galan lost interest in browsing the stalls.

Sometimes, when he had nothing to do, he would only wander aimlessly around here.

But if anyone really wanted him to spend money on something again,

he would only say that whoever wanted to be the sucker could go ahead, because he certainly wouldn't.

He also strongly recommended assigning a Rock to every customer who bought anything here.

"Welcome! Madam, has anything caught your eye?"

The scruffy-bearded peddler saw that someone had finally stopped at his stall.

His heart lifted, and he eagerly leaned forward.

Galan happened to be passing the stall just then. He glanced over through the crowd and suddenly felt that the customer looked familiar from behind.

He paused, then stopped.

...No.

To say she looked familiar...

Actually, the moment he saw that silver hair and the two red teardrop pendants hanging from her ears,

he had recognized her.

"Hmm... this Pottery Jar..."

"Oh! Madam, you have a superb eye! You found the most valuable antique here at a glance."

The peddler leaned in, standing very close to the customer.

He covered half his mouth with one hand, as though he were about to reveal some earth-shattering secret.

"To tell you the truth, an adventuring party happened to bring this Pottery Jar back from the Northern Plateau."

"And judging by its patterns and craftsmanship, I'd say it dates back at least to the end of the Mythical Era."

"Since you have such a discerning eye, I feel a certain kinship with you..."

He stepped back and held up three fingers in front of his chest.

"Three Lacir Gold Coins. How about it? That's a very fair price."

"That's a little expensive... and I don't have that much money on me..."

"Then two?"

The peddler forced a deeply pained expression onto his face,

as if to say, Look, I've made such a huge concession, so hurry up and buy it.

Under his relentless sales pitch,

the customer looked quite hesitant.

"No matter how you look at it, that's a fake, Frieren."

"You're not really going to buy it, are you?"

Just as Frieren was debating whether to buy it, Galan came up behind her and spoke.

After getting burned so many times at Rock's place,

he had learned quite a bit about appraisal himself.

So when he stepped forward and took a closer look at the Pottery Jar,

he could basically tell that the methods used to make it were much the same as those used for the fakes he had bought before.

"Hm? You're Galan, right?"

Seeing him again, Frieren was able to say his name this time.

"Heh heh, it's not like I don't know anything."

But she didn't seem to have paid any attention to what Galan had just said.

She folded her arms across her chest, looking smug.

"This Pottery Jar certainly isn't from the end of the Mythical Era..."

The exposed peddler grew a little flustered, his expression changing rapidly.

Had she been playing the pig to eat the tiger?

No, that wasn't right. If she could tell it was a fake, why was she still haggling with me?

Could she have some peculiar hobby of collecting fakes at high prices?

A flicker of confusion appeared in the peddler's eyes, and his brain stalled.

Despite his many years of experience in business,

he couldn't figure out what Frieren was up to.

Galan, standing beside Frieren, was also a little puzzled.

She hadn't been fooled, so why did something still feel off...?

"This should be an antique from the early days of the Unified Empire."

"You don't know your stuff either, do you?"

The scene fell silent in an instant.

Only Frieren looked smug, apparently feeling that her eye was as good as ever.

The peddler, whose face had already begun to darken,

had been thinking that he must have run into someone who ruined his sale because he hadn't properly conveyed his wish to make money to the goddess before leaving home today.

Now his state of mind took a complete reversal.

I let my guard down.

This is my first time doing business with an elf.

I never thought she could be this stupid.

...The man had clearly already warned her.

"Oh! Look at me. Madam, you really do have a discerning eye!"

The peddler beat his chest and stamped his feet,

looking ashamed of his lack of professional knowledge.

"That's right, that's right!"

"With my eye, I couldn't possibly be wrong."

She was beyond saving.

Looking at the stray lock of hair sticking up on Frieren's head and her excited "just as I thought" expression,

Galan knew there was no use saying anything more.

Still, out of humanitarian concern, he wanted to make one last effort...

"Frieren... that really is a fake..."

"One Lacir Gold Coin, how about it? You're getting a real bargain!"

The peddler held up one finger, cutting off Galan's appeal.

He brought the farce to its climax.

If the Pottery Jar really were an antique from the early days of the Unified Empire, it would naturally be worth more than that...

But no matter how he looked at it, it was definitely a fake!

At that moment, Galan felt that he was looking at Frieren the same way Rock had looked at him back then.

...A complete sucker.

For once, he actually felt he could sympathize with that old drunkard.

"Deal."

Frieren agreed decisively this time, seemingly afraid the peddler might change his mind.

And so, a shiny Lacir Gold Coin went into the peddler's pocket as he snickered to himself.

Galan: "..."