Snowfield

The Northern Plateau, the Shumal Snowfield.

The wind swirled fine snow across the pale horizon. The sky was a murky gray-white, merging seamlessly with the boundless snowfield, making it difficult to discern the boundary.

Frieren knelt in the snow, the ground littered with the spoils of her "big shopping spree"—colorful bottles and jars, ancient scrolls, leather bags, glittering stones, and even a tuft of purple feathers. These "treasures" lay scattered haphazardly at her feet, and she sat dejectedly amidst this pile of "evidence," like a child who had done something wrong. Standing before her was her apprentice, Fern.

Fern crossed her arms, her signature gesture for expressing dissatisfaction. She wore a thick, warm robe, her scarf wrapped tightly around her, and beneath her long purple hair and bangs lay a face etched with seriousness and helplessness. Her gaze swept from head to toe, fixed on her master sitting on the ground, her eyes seeming to say, "Look what you've done!"

Meanwhile, the protagonist, Frieren, who is currently being criticized, is completely unlike her usual self as Great Mage.

She sat curled up on the ground, her silver twin ponytails drooping listlessly, her signature elf ears also drooping listlessly. She lowered her head, her eyes were closed, her brows were furrowed, and her whole face was immersed in the frustration of "I'm doomed," "I've been caught," and "I'm going to get scolded." Her hands were resting uneasily on her knees, and she didn't dare to look Fern in the eye at all.

On the ground in front of her lay a few coins and a deflated purse, all forlorn. Her bright green eyes narrowed into slits as she stared at the small purse, her lips pursed slightly, revealing a pitiful look as if she were about to be scolded.

"We don't have much money left for our trip," she drawled, her voice muffled.

Fern stood in front of her with his arms crossed, his cheeks puffed out like a little pufferfish, making his whole face look rounder.

"This money will only last about a week." She bent down slightly, her purple eyes fixed on Frieren's evasive gaze. "It's all Frieren's fault. She bought too many useless spellbooks and magical tools at that port, wasting money."

Frieren raised her face, looking aggrieved, and tried to resist.

"Because it's really rare. We don't go to that port often."

As if remembering something, her eyes widened slightly, trying to emphasize the plausibility of the statement.

"Besides, aren't we already millionaires?"

Fern's gaze shifted to Lowell.

Lowell was gazing at a few withered trees encased in ice on the distant snowfield when he heard this. He turned his head and scratched the back of his head.

"Uh... a millionaire, definitely a millionaire." He admitted, but his tone lacked confidence. "But I haven't converted it into cash yet."

He counted on his fingers.

"We didn't see any merchants at the previous ports who could buy Anti-Magic Ore. The Norm Trading Company also doesn't have much working capital right now; after all, they almost went bankrupt when the silver mine failed to produce any. So right now we're... well, we have plenty of fixed assets, but insufficient working capital."

He spread his hands.

"We need to find a market or similar place, preferably one with many wealthy people and nobles, to exchange for cash."

Frieren blinked, her emerald eyes turning to him, a glint of light flashing within them.

"Oh, right," she said softly, her fingers unconsciously twirling the drawstring of her purse, "As for this part, isn't it...?"

Lowell looked at her, thought for a moment, and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh right," he clapped his hands, "There really is one."

The scene changes.

Below the massive snow slope lay a relatively sheltered valley. Dozens of thin tents were pitched in the valley, wisps of smoke rising from them. People moved among the tents, mostly adventurers dressed in thick snow gear and carrying packs or weapons.

In a slightly open area in the center of the camp, twenty or thirty people were gathered.

A man, also bundled up tightly, stood on an overturned wooden barrel. He held a mining pickaxe in his hand and swung it forcefully, his voice particularly loud in the cold air.

"Alright, guys!"

He shouted, his breath condensing into a cloud of white vapor.

"Let's give it our all today!"

The crowd below erupted in a mixed but loud response.

"Oh--!"

Lowell stood at the edge of the camp, watching this scene, and silently raised his hand to cover his face.

"... This setup," his voice escaped through his fingers, tinged with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, "Is like a pre-opening sales pitch to the employees."

He lowered his hand, pursed his lips, and added in a low voice.

"Although the military often does similar things..."

Fern's gaze swept over the excited adventurers, then over the supplies piled up between the tents and the worn-out equipment.

"Where is this place?" she asked, "An adventurers' camp?"

"Hmm." Frieren nodded, her silver hair fluttering slightly in the snowy wind. "Indeed. Most of them came for the 'Holy Snow Crystal.' This unique mineral from the snowfield is a basic ingredient for making many magical potions."

"Magic potions..." Fern repeated softly, his pale purple eyes lowered as if searching through his memories. "Come to think of it, we've only ever seen them, we've never used them."

"Holy Snow Crystals look similar to that thing called Stellar Jade, which they consider Primogem, and they're very expensive," Lowell chimed in casually. "As for the potions made from them, we don't need them."

He explained, counting on his fingers.

"I can handle most injuries with red potions, no matter what kind. As for potions to remove negative status effects, remember my 'Tsukuyomi' move from before?"

Fern nodded.

"Mental Magic is a very magical thing. If someone's mind is tormented in a dream world for three days and three nights, their mind will suffer severe damage in reality."

"And vice versa," Lowell said. "If someone suffers a severe mental blow or is controlled, if it's not serious, I can undo it in the mental space; if it's serious, I can let them sleep it off in there, and they'll recover somehow. So we don't need those potions."

He shrugged.

"Besides, there aren't many people who can control me now."

Fern listened quietly and thought for a moment.

"I see. So, we need to sell the Anti-Magic Ore now. But if we can't sell Anti-Magic Ore, we'll have to find Holy Snow Crystals to earn travel expenses?"

"Indeed," Frieren said, her emerald eyes gazing deeper into the camp, where the faint sounds of voices could be heard. "Holy Snow Crystals are expensive because they're hard to find. But for us now, finding them isn't too difficult."

She paused, turned her head, and her eyes gleamed with the light of having spotted her target.

"Then let's go check out the Adventurer's Market first. Let's see if we can sell the Anti-Magic Ore."

The market was set up under several large tents connected together, looking much like the markets outside—bread, fruits and vegetables, and a few scattered supplies. There weren't many people, and everyone seemed to be shivering with cold.

Methode walked a little ahead, her gaze sweeping gently over the price tags on the stalls on either side.

"The things here," she said softly, her voice still melodious, "Are very expensive."

Fern stopped in front of a stall selling hard bread. The prices on the wooden sign made her pale purple eyes blink calmly.

"... a loaf of bread costs one silver coin," she stated, "Almost ten times more expensive than outside."

"Supplies are scarce, but there's always some stock." Lowell crossed his arms, watching an adventurer count out a few silver coins and calmly exchange them for a few pieces of black bread. "Most people here are hoping to get rich from Holy Snow Crystals. Money may come easily, but there's only so much stock, so naturally, prices are high."

"Moreover, Holy Snow Crystals are expensive, not only because they are rare. Powerful monsters guard the area, making mining them extremely risky. Therefore, the rewards for accepting related commissions will definitely be very generous."

He straightened his chest and smiled.

"However, my Anti-Magic Ore will definitely fetch a good price! It's so big and so pure!"

Frieren, standing to the side, tiptoed, her gaze sweeping over the crowd to a small, inconspicuous stall in a corner of the market. The stall displayed several old scrolls and a few oddly shaped small magical artifacts. Her bright green eyes sparkled as she nodded, her face full of anticipation.

"That's right!" Her voice trembled with a hint of excitement. "I've already seen something nice! I'll buy it when it sells out!"

Two hours later.

Outside the market, in a sheltered corner of a tent.

Lowell scratched his head, looking at the intact, silvery-blue Anti-Magic Ore in front of him. Frieren squatted beside him, her hands supporting her chin, her gaze shifting between the ore and the passersby, her expression slowly changing from anticipation to the same confusion as his.

"Something's not right..." Lowell muttered, his brow furrowed. "Forget about high prices, I've already offered 10% below market value. How come... not a single person has even asked about it?"

Methode stood a short distance away, her hands elegantly folded in front of her. She glanced at the ore, then at the adventurers in the camp who were always armed, and spoke gently.

"In a place like this, Mr. Lowell," she said calmly, "Carrying something that would completely incapacitate a mage seems neither wise nor safe."

Lowell and Frieren both paused for a moment, taken aback.

Then, almost simultaneously, the two slowly narrowed their eyes. The confusion on their faces was gradually replaced by a realization, "Ah, so that's where the problem lies," and a faint embarrassment at their mishap.

Their expressions, highlighted by their slightly furrowed brows and downturned lips, appeared remarkably synchronized, giving them a resemblance as a married couple.

There was a few seconds of silence.

Lowell's shoulders slumped, and he let out a long, silent breath.

"... Fine." He wiped his face, his tone resigned. "Let's just get to work. Take on some jobs first, and if that doesn't work, I'll go down into the mine myself."

He bent down and took the shiny, neglected stone back into the alternate dimension.