Sunset Tavern and the Gray Dwarf Otto

Morning sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, and Ron opened his eyes again, emerging from his meditative state.

Before leaving yesterday, he had already requested leave from Mrs. Allen, so today he decided to try looking for those special materials on the black market.

With that in mind, he once again pulled out the faintly glowing parchment and carefully examined the items recorded on it:

Eye Fluid of the Dream-Eating Spider, Moonshadow Bat heart ash, Crystalline Moss, Night-Talk Pollen.

In the little booklet of notes he had received when he was certified as a Primary Apprentice, he had found most of the materials on the list of "prohibited trade goods."

"These things really can only be obtained through unconventional channels on the black market."

Just as he was considering what to do, a series of urgent knocks sounded at the door.

Ron went over and opened it, revealing Andre dressed in practical dark clothes, his blond hair simply tied behind his head. Clearly, he had prepared for today's "unofficial activity."

"Good morning, esteemed ally."

After the teasing greeting, he slipped inside without ceremony. He casually shut the door, then lowered his voice. "Have you decided on today's itinerary?"

Ron nodded and pointed at the parchment spread across the bed. "The priority is finding these materials. At the very least, we need to get a general idea of where they are."

Andre leaned closer to look, his brow gradually furrowing. "Good heavens, what exactly does Mrs. Allen want to brew? Even Tongue Moss of the Thirst-Dead is on the list."

"You know what that is?" Ron asked, somewhat surprised.

"Of course. It's a commonly used material for advanced curse spells." Andre's expression turned serious.

"They say you have to bind a perfectly normal person in the desert and let them die of thirst before you can extract a substance with enough potency to serve as a spellcasting medium."

Ron's heart tightened. Whatever Mrs. Allen wanted to brew, it clearly wasn't going to be a benevolent potion.

But he quickly made up his mind—since he had already agreed, he would do his best to complete the task.

"Fortunately, I have you, a jack-of-all-trades who knows a little about everything." He patted the blond youth on the shoulder. "Otherwise, I really wouldn't know how to find these things."

"It's truly an honor to be of service to Young Master Ron." Andre wore a slightly smug smile. "I do happen to know a few inside details about the black market."

He glanced at the sky. "These next few days are a good opportunity. Around this time every month, the Sunset Tavern holds a special trade fair. We can try our luck there."

Ron quickly packed his belongings, including some Magic Stone Fragments, weapons for self-defense, and several bottles of homemade potions. The two of them then quietly left the apprentice dormitory area.

Following several deserted paths, they gradually moved away from the central area of the School, heading toward the outer mortal settlements and markets near the Black Mist Forest.

"Be careful of eyes watching us."

As they walked, Andre reminded him in a low voice, "Although the School won't explicitly forbid apprentices from visiting the black-market districts, if they catch someone trading prohibited goods red-handed, they certainly won't refuse the Magic Stone Fragments being handed to them."

So this is what they call fishing law enforcement... Ron nodded and committed the warning to memory, while heightening his vigilance toward his surroundings.

Through the keen perception granted by his multiple professions, he could sense that the farther they went toward the edge of the Black Mist Forest, the more chaotic the magical fluctuations in the air became.

All kinds of disorderly energy traces intertwined, forming a unique atmosphere.

After passing through several winding alleys, they finally arrived in front of a dilapidated two-story wooden building.

"This is the place—the Sunset Tavern." Andre looked up at the precariously swaying sign above the entrance. "On the surface, it's just an ordinary tavern, but in reality, it's the safest underground trading venue in this area."

When he pushed open the creaking wooden door of the Sunset Tavern, a complicated mixture of alcohol, tobacco, and the body odors of various nonhuman races rushed toward them.

Ron wrinkled his nose, trying to adapt to the suffocatingly strong smell.

The tavern was dimly lit, with several Magic Crystal Lamps barely illuminating the cramped space.

Beyond sight and smell, the low conversations of various creatures blended with the clinking of wine glasses, creating a strange harmony.

Oddly shaped nonhumans crowded together. Some were as massive as mountains, yet hunched in corners, sipping in tiny mouthfuls from liquor held in enormous wooden cups;

others were small and nimble, yet could drain in one go a cup larger than their own heads.

The strange creatures' hushed conversations and solitary drinking made the place seem both mysterious and dangerous.

Ron's gaze swept across the tavern, and he saw several humans dressed in different styles among the crowd—

some wore the shabby clothes typical of exiles, some wore luxurious robes in the noble style, and others looked like hunters or mercenaries. Their eyes were generally wary and sharp.

"Over there." Andre gave Ron's sleeve a gentle tug, his voice lowered to a whisper as he indicated a corner of the bar with his eyes. "See that Gray Dwarf? That's Otto, a fairly reliable middleman I know."

Ron followed his direction and saw a Gray Dwarf with a thick beard, barely reaching an ordinary person's waist, sitting on a tall stool with half a mug of beer in front of him.

The Dwarf looked like a wrinkled rock that had been given life. His grayish-brown skin was covered in calluses, and his rough hands gripped the mug tightly, as though it were some priceless treasure.

The two of them walked toward the bar. Andre skillfully signaled to the bartender, then said quietly to Ron, "Let me handle this first. Otto doesn't like strangers asking directly about trades."

The bartender soon brought over two glasses of murky liquid topped with foam. Ron carefully accepted one. It gave off a sour, pungent smell that made him frown, and a layer of foam floated on its surface.

Andre lifted one glass and took a small sip, then casually turned toward the Gray Dwarf.

"Long time no see, Mr. Otto. The ale still tastes as awful as ever."

The Gray Dwarf did not raise his head. He merely tapped the rim of his mug lightly with a rough finger, producing a steady knocking sound, as though confirming some secret signal. "Oh? Which old friend has come to visit?"

His voice was deep and hoarse, like two rough rocks grinding against each other.

"That copy of the Guide to Highland Veins you found for me last time was a great help."

Andre spoke in a specific code, lowering his voice even further. "Unfortunately, I ran into a little trouble afterward and had no choice but to throw the book away. What a pity. It was a truly rare and excellent book."

Only after hearing those words did the Dwarf slowly raise his head. A shrewd light gleamed in his blue eyes beneath his thick brows.

Those eyes formed a stark contrast with his rugged appearance. They were clear and sharp, revealing a wisdom that did not match his looks.

"Hey, it's you, Your Highness, Little Prince." He spoke softly while warily sweeping his gaze around the room. "Looks like you have another special request?"