Border Tavern

(Pure Mage novel. Slow start. The Little Green Bottle isn't very powerful, but it's essential. The early game might be a bit of a slog, as it's a weak, low-level Mage that needs time to grow. It gets much better after advancing to intermediate level.)

The small town slumbered under the falling snow, its narrow streets deserted. Only the tavern's chimney still sent smoke, entwined with the cold, into the air.

The wooden door creaked open, letting in a gust of biting cold. The newcomer was wrapped in a large, long, hooded black cloak, their frame appearing somewhat frail. Their entire face was hidden by the black hood, revealing only a sharply defined jawline.

They stepped into the tavern, their boots leaving wet footprints on the floor. The tavern's boisterous noise faltered for a moment before resuming, though everyone's eyes subtly followed the uninvited guest.

"Boss." A young male voice emerged from beneath the cloak. "Do you have Moonlight Grass?"

Behind the counter, the plump Tavern Owner was polishing a copper mug. Hearing the question, a glint flashed in his small, bean-like eyes.

"Moonlight Grass?" He set down the mug, his voice low. "That's a rare item, customer. Are you sure you're asking about that?"

The cloaked figure didn't answer, merely extending a slender, pale hand from within the cloak. Three Jintana coins were held between their fingers. They were placed gently on the counter. The gold coins made a crisp sound on the wooden surface, drawing glances from patrons at nearby tables.

The Tavern Owner's eyes narrowed into slits. He glanced left and right, then leaned down to retrieve a small wooden box from beneath the counter. He opened it just enough to let the cloaked figure get a look.

Inside the box lay a plant emitting a faint blue glow. Its leaves curved like crescent moons, and its veins were crystal clear.

"Just picked it this morning from the Misty Forest. It's the only one," he licked his lips. "Five Jintana, firm price."

The cloaked figure thought for a moment, then added two more gold coins. They reached out, took the wooden box, and tucked it inside their cloak. Just then, a cold snort came from a corner of the tavern.

"Five Jintana for a damn weed?" a gruff voice boomed. "Either you're an idiot or you have too much money to spend."

The speaker was the leader of the Blood Wolf Mercenary Group, a burly man with a face like a slab of meat. He stood up, his greatsword brushing against his armor with a clanging sound. His four or five subordinates also rose behind him.

Compared to other magical plants, Moonlight Grass wasn't exceptionally rare in terms of quantity, but its uses were extremely broad, leading to a demand that outstripped supply. Its market price rarely exceeded three Jintana.

Jintana was the largest denomination currency in the Longsheng Empire. As one of the four major empires on the continent, its currency was quite stable. Compared to the complex monetary system of another of the four empires, the Huarong Empire, its system was remarkably simple, with only Silver Nar and Copper Mark below it. 1 Jintana = 10 Silver Nar = 10,000 Copper Mark.

A working man's daily income was only 70 to 80 Copper Marks. A buckwheat bread loaf sufficient to fill an adult's stomach cost around 5 Marks. Although prices varied by region due to geographical factors, the fluctuation wouldn't exceed 1 Mark.

5 Jintana was 50,000 Copper Marks – the amount an adult man would save in two years without eating or drinking.

The cloaked figure acted as if they hadn't heard, turning back to the Tavern Owner without looking. "Do you have any other rare medicinal herbs here?"

The mercenary leader had been coveting the Moonlight Grass for a long time, but the price had been a sticking point. His rare act of good-natured advice being ignored only fueled his rage. He strode towards the counter and shouted, "Hey, cloak-wearer! I'm talking to you!"

The atmosphere in the tavern suddenly grew tense. The Tavern Owner remained calm; such scenes were commonplace. His small eyes darted between the cloaked figure and the mercenary leader.

The mercenary leader reached out to grab the cloaked figure's shoulder. "Let me see who dares... on Blood Wolf territory..."

The instant the mercenary leader's fingers were about to touch the black cloak, the cloaked figure suddenly turned. Two points of cold light flashed from beneath the hood – his eyes. What was chilling was that complex blue runes appeared in those eyes, flowing like living things.

"Hmph!" The young voice let out a soft snort.

The mercenary leader's body froze abruptly. His expression shifted from fierce to disbelief, then to fear. His knees buckled uncontrollably, slamming heavily onto the floor with a dull thud. He tried to struggle but found that he couldn't move anything except his eyeballs.

Silence fell over the tavern. The mercenary leader's four subordinates, hands on their weapons, watched the scene nervously but dared not act.

"A Spellcaster..." someone whispered in terror.

The cloaked figure surveyed the entire tavern. Wherever their gaze fell, everyone lowered their heads, afraid to meet their eyes. Finally, their gaze returned to the mercenary leader, whose forehead was beaded with sweat, his eyes filled with terror.

"Thank you for the reminder, but I don't like people who get grabby. Now, take your men and leave this tavern," the cloaked figure said, the runes in their eyes gradually fading.

As soon as they finished speaking, the mercenary leader found he could move again. He scrambled towards the door, his subordinates following close behind. The sound of wind and snow briefly intruded before vanishing again.

The Tavern Owner could no longer maintain his composure, his voice trembling slightly. "L-Lord, are you a Spellcaster?"

The cloaked figure didn't answer directly, merely asking again, "Are there any other rare medicinal herbs?"

The Tavern Owner swallowed, his small eyes flickering with hesitation. "Since Lord is interested in Moonlight Grass, I wonder... do you also need Nishang Grass?"

The cloaked figure's body visibly stiffened. Though the movement was subtle, a shrewd merchant like the Tavern Owner couldn't miss it.

"You have Nishang Grass?" The cloaked figure's voice showed emotion for the first time.

The Tavern Owner glanced around, then lowered his voice. "This isn't the place to talk. If Lord doesn't mind, we can discuss it further in the back."

The cloaked figure was silent for a moment, then nodded. The Tavern Owner called over a waiter, gave a few instructions, and then led the cloaked figure through the crowded tavern hall towards the corridor in the back.

"Lord, this way, please." The Tavern Owner's voice was laced with obvious deference. He pushed open a wooden door, and warm yellow light spilled out from within.

The cloaked figure didn't step inside immediately. Their gaze swept over the shadows in a corner of the courtyard, where something seemed to stir. "Your subordinates are very diligent," they said calmly, their voice betraying no emotion.

The Tavern Owner's forehead broke out in a fine sheen of sweat, despite the cold weather. "It's just... just in case, Lord. Please forgive me."

The cloaked figure let out a soft chuckle, a sound that made the Tavern Owner's neck hairs stand on end. They said nothing more and stepped into the room.

The room was more spacious than expected. A heavy oak table occupied the center, and several maps of the border regions hung on the walls, one of which specifically marked parts of the Misty Forest. The cloaked figure's gaze lingered on that map for a moment.

"Sit, Lord, please sit," the Tavern Owner said solicitously, pulling out a chair. "Would you like something to drink? We have excellent..."

"Information about Nishang Grass," the cloaked figure interrupted, tapping their fingers lightly on the tabletop. "Tell me in detail."

The Tavern Owner swallowed, his plump fingers nervously rubbing together.

"It's like this, Lord. Three months ago, we received a commission to hunt an Ice Leopard that was active in the vicinity. The group dispatched their best tracker, who spent nearly a month before finally locating the beast's lair."

The cloaked figure nodded slightly, signaling him to continue.

"It was in a cave on the eastern side of the Misty Forest, about a three or four-day journey from here," the owner lowered his voice. "He saw a stalk of Nishang Grass in that cave, and it was already mature."

"Is your scout still alive?" the cloaked figure suddenly asked.

The Tavern Owner blinked, then gave a wry smile. "He's alive, but... not well. The Ice Leopard's chill has seeped into his body. He can only lie in bed now, kept alive by potions."

The cloaked figure's fingers stopped tapping. "I need to see him."

"This... his current condition..."

"Either bring him to me, or take me to him." The cloaked figure's voice remained calm, but the Tavern Owner felt a bone-chilling cold, colder than the wind and snow outside.

The Tavern Owner wiped the sweat from his brow. After hesitating for a few seconds, he finally walked towards the bookshelf on the other side of the room. He pressed a certain book, and the bookshelf silently slid open, revealing a hidden door behind it.

"Please follow me, sir."

Behind the hidden door was a narrow staircase leading down. The lamps on the walls provided a faint light. The air was damp and cold, mixed with the scent of herbs and something rotten.

At the end of the stairs was a simple secret room. On the innermost bed, a gaunt man was curled up in pain.

"That's him..." the Tavern Owner whispered. "He's been like this since he returned. The guild's physician said if the chill inside him isn't removed, he won't survive the winter."

The cloaked figure approached the bedside. The man on the bed had a deathly pale face and unnaturally purple lips. Even in his unconscious state, his body twitched intermittently. The cloaked figure lifted the covers and saw that the man's right arm was covered in a thin layer of frost, and the veins beneath his skin showed a strange blue hue.

"The Ice Leopard's frost poison," he murmured. "It's quite impressive that he managed to return alive."

The Tavern Owner stood by, not daring to reply. The cloaked figure held his hand above the man's forehead. Several tiny runes appeared in his palm, shimmering with a faint blue light. The runes slowly rotated, gradually forming a complex pattern.

"Mind's Eye," the cloaked figure whispered.

The runes suddenly flared with intense light, then sank into the man's forehead. The man's body trembled violently, and he let out a pained groan. A few seconds later, a blurry image entered the cloaked figure's consciousness.

A dark forest. Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the canopy, casting dappled shadows. The viewpoint owner moved through the trees, finally stopping before a rock face. Below the rock face was a cave entrance, surrounded by ice crystals. The viewpoint owner carefully slipped inside. The cave was more spacious than expected, with a nest made of dead branches and animal skins in the center. Behind the nest, a plant emitting a faint glow grew in a crack in the stone...

The image suddenly shook violently, and a beast's roar was deafening. A snow-white leopard with eyes that shone like sapphires leaped from the shadows, its claws wrapped in icy mist...

The connection was broken. The cloaked figure withdrew his hand, the blue light dissipating from his fingertips. "Where is the exact location of the cave?"

The Tavern Owner fumbled around his person and produced a piece of parchment with a rough map drawn on it. "The marked spot is here, near the source of Blackwater Creek."

The cloaked figure studied the map for a moment, then looked up. "Why choose to tell me? Even if your combat strength is insufficient, you could have waited for support from headquarters. This Nishang Grass... it's quite valuable."

A flicker of struggle crossed the Tavern Owner's eyes. Finally, he sighed. "There's no time. The commission deadline is only half a month away, and headquarters' people won't arrive for at least ten days. That's over twenty days for travel. If the mission fails, we'll not only lose the deposit, but our guild's rating will also drop." He paused. "And... he... he's our brother, after all. We can't just watch him die."

The cloaked figure gazed silently at the Tavern Owner, as if trying to see through his soul. After a long moment, he nodded gently.