A Slight Display of Edge (Part 2)

Romon finished his training for the day and returned to his inn.

Once in his room, he suddenly remembered the set of books left behind by the thieves and took them out of Shennong Space to browse through. Ever since bringing them back, he had not seriously read them.

At a glance, Romon immediately treated them as precious treasure, repeatedly regretting that he had not read them sooner. Because of the occupational traits of thieves, their training generally leaned toward the strange and the art of assassination. They emphasized using speed and angles others could never anticipate to launch surprise attacks and make their escape.

What Romon had practiced before, meanwhile, was proper swordsmanship, emphasizing steadiness and stability. For someone as lacking in strength as Romon, these thief techniques were far more suitable for him at present.

Romon first opened a book on assassination. It contained not only sword-based assassination techniques, but also ones for daggers and knives. It even described how to subdue an enemy with a single blow while bare-handed.

Seeing this, even after so much time had passed, Romon still broke out in a cold sweat and silently thanked his lucky stars. Judging from the contents of this book alone, anyone trained in its methods could easily handle several ordinary people alone. Back then, Fafier and he had taken down four thieves between them. It truly could only be said that those four had been terribly unlucky, running into a man who had crossed over from another world and wielded the great killing weapon of a crossbow.

It could only be said that Romon and the others had been truly fortunate, while that gang of thieves had been truly unfortunate.

As he turned the pages, Romon began calculating in his mind. He could absorb and learn these thieves' techniques. Though the book was quite simple, its foundations were indeed all there.

Doing what came to mind was now Romon's rule for life. Because he had studied Druid divine arts, his memory had improved greatly compared to before. Especially when he stood somewhere surrounded by plants, his five senses became increasingly sharp.

Thus, for the next stretch of time, Romon secretly practiced thief martial skills every day after training at the camp. He had originally intended to bring Fafier along, but Fafier's family had been busy with some matters lately, so Romon could only hide here and practice by himself.

The several booklets collected from Shennong Space, which recorded types of poisons and methods of making them, likewise aroused Romon's interest.

Although he had learned about many plants at the Temple, the varieties had been limited to medicinal plants.

As for plants that could be used to make poison, or that were themselves lethally poisonous, not only were none grown in the Temple, but not a single book in the Temple library recorded them either.

However, since Romon came from another world, he had no qualms about making or using poisons.

In his view, even if he never needed to use such poisons, recognizing one more poisonous substance would at least mean one less chance of being harmed by others in the future.

Arriving at a remote clearing in the forest, he took the small box from Shennong Space. Upon opening it, he found that it actually contained five layers of compartments. Each layer had a hundred tiny divisions, and every division held a small pile of seeds. The countless varieties of colorful seeds nearly dazzled Romon's eyes.

Following the contents of the booklet he had already finished reading, the one that introduced poisonous seeds, Romon examined the seeds in the compartments one by one. In the end, he confirmed that these were the seeds of the poisons recorded in those booklets.

"I never thought thieves knew how to cultivate medicinal herbs too." Romon shook his head and put them back into the box. Shennong Space was still expanding and had not leveled up yet, so it could not accept new seeds. They could only remain in the box for now.

And so, as he trained and practiced martial skills every day, Romon's life was simple yet fulfilling. Nick's body also recovered day by day. Though some aftereffects would remain, at least outwardly he was no different from an ordinary person.

On this day, Rika Town welcomed its first snowfall since winter began, and with the snow came Barnel's caravan once more.

Barnel came to town every month, and this was also Romon's opportunity. He planned to follow the caravan into the city once, in order to earn enough money.

The snow that filled the sky brought troubles to the residents of Rika Town, but it also brought them joy. Children laughingly chased one another through the streets, building snowmen and having snowball fights.

Motte Inn's business also grew increasingly prosperous because of the snowy weather.

Many people sat gathered together, drinking steaming hot spirits. Then they gazed at the heavy snow outside the windows and sighed that next year would surely be a bountiful harvest.

Yet in a second-floor room, Romon, waiting for Barnel to finish drinking, seemed somewhat bored.

Because of the heavy snow, he had not gone to the forest to practice that day. After eating something downstairs, he simply stared blankly out the window.

It could be said that this was the first time he had seen a heavy snowfall since coming to this world.

Back in that world, he had grown up in the south and therefore rarely saw snow. Later, after he began working, he often traveled between places where vegetation flourished and the climate was warm. Thus, a snowfall this vast and this thick could even be said to be the first truly heavy snow he had ever seen with his own eyes.

Romon carefully watched the snow outside. In the end, his childishness unexpectedly got the better of him, and he stood, walked to the window, and reached one hand outside.

Icy snowflakes landed on his hand. He lifted it before his eyes and examined them closely, chuckling as he watched the snowflakes gradually melt in his palm.

After sitting back down, Romon suddenly felt bored again, so he shifted his attention back into his own space.

Though it was winter outside, the space within Shennong Horn seemed unaffected.

Golden radiance shone down from the sky, bathing all things. It came from a sphere of light suspended dozens of meters in the air, and everywhere was filled with a fragrance even fresher than the scent of rain.

The entire sky was enveloped in a beautiful halo. The stream still rushed onward, its water slightly cool yet crystal clear, with several fish swimming within.

By now, a month had passed. The acre of Bluegrass planted that day had all sprouted and grown, free from pests and weather. It formed a dense expanse, above which wisps of mist, faint yet present, curled with a fresh fragrance. This was the unique ten-percent quality effect after the space leveled up.

If this batch of Bluegrass grew for another two months, it could be harvested. At a yield of three hundred kilograms of dried grass per acre, this acre could produce three hundred kilograms. One had to know that the market price was one silver coin per kilogram.

The scenery within the space truly looked as though it had stepped out of a painting. Looking upward again, he discovered that the space's number had almost reached the mark of 2,000.

The healthy state of Shennong Space immediately lifted Romon's mood. It had to be said that, in this season when all things lay dormant, most low-level Druids who relied on the breath of the forest cultivated at their slowest. Yet because Romon possessed the Shennong Horn Space, he displayed a completely opposite state of affairs.

Romon smiled smugly. Just then, someone downstairs called again, "Romon!"

"Coming!" Romon quickly answered.

Romon went downstairs and reached the inn's ground floor in a few strides, confirming his guess. A large group of adventurers were noisily gathered in the inn. The familiar captain of Haiwavi's mercenary team was greeting them, and beside him stood a comparatively unfamiliar group of adventurers.

Why had more and more adventurers been coming to town lately? Could Thorn Forest have some treasure hidden within it? Romon muttered to himself.

"Burke, this is Romon, a Druid. One treatment costs five silver coins, half the price of the temple!" Although many townspeople had distanced themselves from Romon rather than risk trouble after tax officer Bakasi publicly displayed hostility toward him, adventurers had far fewer such concerns.

The instant Haiwavi saw him come downstairs, he immediately called out.

"Oh, you're a Druid? Are you any good?" Burke was a captain around thirty years old, and his sharp gaze swept over Romon.

"Whether I'm good or not, you'll know after one treatment!" Romon smiled faintly. His gaze swept across the room, and he saw three adventurers with wounds.

"Heh, Romon's pretty good. He really knows his stuff when it comes to healing!" Haiwavi said in a somewhat exaggerated tone.

Romon's face reddened slightly. He had all three remove their clothing, then told each of them to buy a cup of strong liquor.

Haiwavi smiled as he helped pour the liquor over their wounds, making all three men shudder from head to toe.

Burke glanced over and asked, "What's that for?"

"Heh heh, I don't know either, but Romon seems to think letting the wounds have a drink helps them recover." Haiwavi said teasingly, "Heaven knows whether it's just to boost the inn's business. Hahaha!"

"It's for disinfection. The wounds have some infection, and strong liquor works quite well." Romon smiled and replied quietly. After disinfecting them, he simmered a thin layer of medicinal ointment and applied it. Once he was done, he held out his hand, and a faint green glow immediately appeared in his palm.

The green glow settled in an instant, but centered around the ointment, a thin layer of fresh skin regenerated and wrapped around the wound. Romon said, "All right. Don't drink alcohol, and rest for three days. It should basically heal."

The man inspected it, moved around a little, then smiled at Romon. "It really is good!"

Divine arts, or a Druid's natural spells, could both catalyze cell division and healing. After disinfection, using the medicinal ointment as the core to form a scab could achieve the greatest recovery possible at Romon's current level, while also conserving the greatest amount of strength.

After all three were healed, Romon accepted fifteen silver coins and handed five to the innkeeper. Motte would naturally help him pay them to tax officer Bakasi.

Tax officer Bakasi could prohibit the trade of wild cattle, but he could not forbid a Druid from casting spells. Besides, as the number of adventurers increased, so did injuries. The temple only had two priests, and each priest possessed merely three or four healing spells a day, far from enough to meet the need. Thus, Romon's business catered to the adventurers' demand—banning it would offend them, a risk even tax officer Bakasi did not dare take. He could only collect heavily, taking one-third of the income!

Of course, Romon himself only had three healing spells each day. Looking at the money, Romon narrowed his eyes slightly. This matter would have to be resolved sooner or later.

"Well done, Romon. If you want to go to the city, even if Barnel won't take you, I will." Seeing this, Haiwavi smiled. Others feared tax officer Bakasi, but after weighing the pros and cons, he felt that taking the risk of offending Bakasi a little was worthwhile.

Romon nodded with a smile. This was strength and profit!

!!