Where Did This Shark Enthusiast Come From? (23)

Just as Ian was wondering, a burly Elf wearing nothing at all, his entire body entwined in vines and branches, walked toward him on foot.

He looked completely at ease, as though strolling through his own home. "Yes, I mean you. Cute ice fairy—who else did you think it could be?"

This Elf was extraordinarily tall, over two and a half meters in height. Ian only came up to around his chest, and even mounted on the pack beast, he was still somewhat lower.

The vines wrapped around his body were exceptionally dense, almost like some kind of plant-vine armor. Several of the outermost vines were even translucent, with deep-blue fluorescent fluid flowing within them.

Woody root-like markings clung to both sides of his face. Behind his ears grew two hard, sickle-shaped long leaves, standing tall like horns or antennae.

If one thought him primitive, one would be gravely mistaken. Ian could tell at a glance that these vines were no ordinary creepers, but some kind of sublimated plant, carefully blended and somewhat similar to the Ellen Family's ether armament, Darkglow.

In other words, this was biological equipment—a living suit of armor!

"Is your companion a Steel-Armored Shark?"

The towering Elf came before Ian. Compared to his oppressive physique, his voice was remarkably gentle and magnetic, instantly putting people at ease. Even the somewhat panicked pack beast calmed down. "I sensed its aura on you... It only advanced recently, yet its potential is immense—and its health is almost beyond belief."

His tone was full of feeling. "In all my decades in Canaanmore, I have never seen such a healthy Steel-Armored Shark. If I did not have urgent business, I truly would have liked to see that adorable little fellow."

"Hello... I think it would be very grateful for your praise."

This was Ian's first time truly meeting someone at the Third Energy Level. He answered somewhat cautiously, "Do you like sharks very much?"

"Perhaps birds of a feather flock together."

The towering Elf grinned, revealing a row of gleaming shark teeth. It gave off a contradictory impression—dangerous, yet strangely harmonious. "But mainly, I have never seen such a healthy shark. You've raised it very well. Just as expected of a fairy—you really know how to raise little animals and flowers and plants."

He looked at the white hair within Ian's hood. "That little fairy is quite healthy too. Southern Ridge is simply too hot, so it lacks spirit. Make it a little cold room, and it will advance soon enough."

"Thank you very much for the advice."

Amid his surprise and delight, Ian could see it clearly now: in Oak Master's eyes, there were no humans at all. He could only see Ian's fairy bloodline and Sha Sha, and his interest in Sha Sha was far greater than his interest in Ian.

As for Frost Butterfly's condition, Ian had considered it long ago. But Oak Master's reminder thoroughly confirmed it.

"I won't disturb you, the general's guest."

The towering Elf reached out and patted Ian on the shoulder. Turning away, he laughed heartily. "Sure enough, one has to go out and look around from time to time. How could there be such a healthy shark? Nature's marvels are no less than an ecological laboratory."

Oak Master had come in a rush and left in a rush. His personality was vastly different from the Elf master Ian had imagined. Calling him approachable did not quite fit, yet saying he looked down on everyone and did as he pleased was not quite right either. He gave off a strange, contradictory feeling, yet it was also quite harmonious.

As for why the other party had specifically come over to greet him...

Ian turned his head and looked at the thing Oak Master had "left behind" on his shoulder...

"Ha."

The young man shook his head slightly, thinking, Looks like I've been used as an intermediary in their contest of methods... It isn't exactly a bad thing. At least he truly bears me no ill will.

But how exactly did he see that I was 'me,' and how did he find me in the crowd?

Perhaps it was still his fairy bloodline and Frost Butterfly's aura.

Fairies were indeed scarce in Southern Ridge, and water-aspected ones even rarer. Spotting one occasionally, along with a little fairy carried at one's side, should have been enough to confirm it.

But such keen aura perception...

Good thing I learned concealment secret arts from the Dragon-Worshiping Cult. Otherwise, he would have seen through my ancient dragon core at a glance.

Watching Oak Master's party vanish down the road leading south toward a coastal town, Ian turned back and continued toward Nauman City.

The bustle and clamor of the eastern district surpassed even Twin Tree Town's. Or rather, merchants truly gathered here in droves. All around the broad Parasol Tree Square were every kind of signboard and broker advertisement. The walls of a single inn had at least five different signs pointing toward different shops.

The only advantage was that Nauman City had more educated people. Seeing the alchemist badge Ian wore and the alchemical potions marked with skulls, they obediently kept their distance rather than approaching. There would not be illiterate little thieves coming up to pickpocket him.

At the very least, they recognized potions.

After making his way to the Silverfang Chamber of Commerce, Ian settled his luggage with the help of staff who had long known he would be arriving. He then changed into the outfit Silverfang had arranged in advance through correspondence with the city's chamber of commerce for him to wear to the marquis's dinner.

"The marquis does not like formal dress—the more flamboyant it is, the more he dislikes it. But you are not a soldier. If you truly go wearing armor, he will not be pleased either. He will only think that you have never even set foot on a battlefield, so how can you have the nerve to dress like that?"

Back in Twin Tree Town, Silverfang had given him this advice.

He truly knew Marquis Barton well and personally arranged a set of clothes for Ian. "Are you going as an alchemist, or as a knight of Harrison Port? The former? Then wear a formal robe—the kind you can wear in battle too. At the very least, he will think you look capable and efficient."

The robe Silverfang prepared for Ian was an alchemist's robe with a white base and black trim. It hung to his calves, with a ring of silver metal star studs decorating its hem, also serving as weights to prevent it from being blown up.

Naturally, the belt was Ian's own alchemist belt, buckled tightly around his waist, with his pouch attached as well. After all, "How could an alchemist look professional without alchemical potions?" Silverfang understood very well that the marquis liked professionals and deeply respected technical personnel.

Other than that, there was nothing else. Ian looked over his equipment. It did fit well, but it was not actually suited for adventuring.

It was not an issue with the material. This alchemist robe felt somewhat like silk, but it was actually woven from the threads of some exotic insect, incredibly tough and sufficient to resist blades. Nor would it be difficult to layer a sheet of armor plates beneath its lining.

If it truly came to it, he could simply leave the buttons open and wear leather armor underneath. It would not look good, but it would be practical.

The main reason it was unsuitable for adventuring was its color—this thing was far too snowy white, practically the same shade as his own hair. Once it got splashed with mud and water, or dust and leaves fell on it, it would become filthy and need washing again. It was quite troublesome.

Why must they insist on dressing me in white? The viscount was like this, and so was Silverfang. Ian thought helplessly. I actually prefer lake green and gold-red, but those two shades truly are difficult to match...

He had never cared much about clothing, but dressing formally for formal occasions was not merely courtesy toward others—it was also respect for oneself.

Freshly dressed, Ian stepped out of the chamber of commerce and headed toward the upper district. He did not wear his hood, so people would glance sideways at him from time to time.

When he crossed the bridge over the Nauman Guard River, no guards even checked his identity. Perhaps Ian's appearance was simply too distinctive. Along with his natural bearing and neat clothing, he seemed like someone who did not need checking at all—if anyone wanted to find him, they could spot him at a glance.

Only when he neared the street where the governor's residence stood did a knight politely ask his identity. Upon seeing the emblem Marquis Barton had given him, the knight personally led him into the front courtyard.

But Ian did not think the upper district's security was lax.

On the way here, five people kept watching me the whole time, and I sensed twenty-three separate peeks from different people... Even a fly would probably have someone tailing it here, wouldn't it?

Oh, I forgot. There are no flies or pests in the upper district.

The highlighted humanoid figures in Precognitive Vision and the Silver Chip were almost everywhere. Ian even suspected that he had entered a military camp with an extremely high security classification, rather than a bustling street in an urban district—even atop the towering High Tower of the alchemical workshop, someone was using a telescope to survey the entire city.

They aren't worried a bolt of lightning will strike them down on a rainy day?