While Romon was handling the formalities at the Adventurers' Guild, Barnel, the leader of the small caravan, was speaking with his son Feiqiya in a room of the Cramp Trading Company.
Feiqiya was a young man with light golden hair and a prominent hooked nose. His well-proportioned build showed that he had some warrior's training.
"Feiqiya." Barnel looked at him kindly and called his name. "What do you think of Romon, that young druid?" There was an evaluative note in his voice.
"Father!" Feiqiya did not answer at once. He frowned and pondered for a moment before saying with certainty, "He is a very talented man, and he is also remarkably seasoned in how he handles matters and people. I heard he used to work as a clerk in Motte's shop. Perhaps he learned something during that time."
A trace of satisfaction appeared on Barnel's face, but quickly vanished. "So, Feiqiya, you think highly of his future?"
Feiqiya was taken aback, but immediately replied, "Yes, Father. I think highly of his future. A talented young man with such worldly wisdom will succeed, so long as misfortune does not find him."
Barnel smiled in satisfaction, making no effort to hide it this time. "Dealing with a lion cub is far better than facing a full-grown lion. Feiqiya, since you think so highly of Romon's future, invest in him like a merchant would."
As he spoke, Barnel took a roll of parchment from his clothes. It was properly sealed with wax, stamped with the mark of the Barnel Caravan.
Feiqiya's gaze fell on the index finger of his father's right hand. A ring used as the caravan's seal rested there, its face still stained with wax.
"Master Sackville in the city is a respected mage and an old friend of mine. Some time ago, he came to me and asked me to find a few junior priests or druidic spellcasters for him. He needed people to make a batch of healing potions for him. After all, mages can make most potions, but not healing potions. Now, Feiqiya, because of your judgment, I have decided to recommend Romon to him. Give this letter of recommendation to Romon. Romon is short of money right now. I trust you will make him feel your goodwill."
Barnel solemnly handed the letter of recommendation to his son.
Feiqiya nodded, accepted it, and carefully put it away. "Father, I'll go to the Adventurers' Guild and find him now."
Barnel nodded. "Go on."
As Feiqiya reached the door, he heard his father mutter softly behind him, "They say fine wine tests a man's character, while women are weights on the scales that measure sin."
Warmth filled Feiqiya's heart, and he could not help but smile. It was a bright, sunny afternoon.
When Romon emerged from the Adventurers' Guild, red clouds in the western sky had already covered more than half the heavens.
"Romon!" someone called.
He snapped out of his thoughts about the future and turned around to see a young man waving at him.
Romon recognized him. He was Feiqiya, the son of the Barnel Caravan's leader.
In Romon's impression, Feiqiya was a highly seasoned merchant. That was probably thanks to Barnel's upbringing. The only thing about Feiqiya that still belonged to youth was the ambition deep within him, tinged with a touch of fantasy.
"Hi, Feiqiya." Romon waved back.
"Romon, how about we find somewhere to have a drink?" Feiqiya approached naturally.
Having once been a working man himself, Romon naturally understood the meaning beneath Feiqiya's words: Romon, I have something to discuss with you.
"Sure. I've heard old people say that wine can cure drunkenness." Romon laughed heartily and walked over.
"Really? I heard Old Vilen's tavern has a homemade fruit wine that tastes quite good." Feiqiya licked his lips. "To celebrate your becoming an adventurer, how about I treat you this time?"
"Then I won't stand on ceremony." Romon patted Feiqiya on the shoulder.
By the time the two arrived at Old Vilen's tavern in the eastern part of the city, night had begun to fall. There were not many people inside. Perhaps the adventurers would only come here to drown their sorrows later in the evening.
A plump, bald old man greeted them warmly from behind the counter. "Hey, you two young fellows, what would you like to drink?"
"Old Vilen, bring out your fruit wine. Two cups." Feiqiya held up two fingers with a grin, then found a table farther inside and sat down, casually pulling out a chair for Romon.
Romon smiled and sat down, but he was inwardly shaken. The old man standing behind the counter and greeting customers with a smile was covered in a faint aura. It was blood-red, showing the owner's powerful vitality, while the scent of slaughter within that bloody energy revealed that the man had fought his way through countless battles in his youth.
Having mastered Detect Aura, Romon knew full well that the old man should be a Fifth Level warrior.
After realizing this, Romon looked around again. Most of the people in the tavern were dressed like adventurers, and compared to the adventurers he had seen before in the small shop run by Motte and his wife, they indeed seemed deliberately more restrained.
Romon pondered briefly, then suddenly smiled at Feiqiya. "Uncle Vilen must have been quite an extraordinary figure in his younger days, right?"
A look of surprise mixed with admiration appeared on Feiqiya's face. "How did you know?"
Romon smiled. "You know, I once worked as a clerk in a tavern. Adventurers always like to make noise, but when I came in here just now, I found everyone somewhat reserved. Then I observed them for a while and noticed that they kept looking at Old Vilen behind the counter. So after observing Old Vilen more closely, the conclusion was not difficult to reach."
Feiqiya applauded softly. "Perhaps only someone as perceptive as you can receive nature's blessing."
Romon smiled. In truth, once many things were known in hindsight, tracing back the clues that had led to them was as easy as reading the lines on one's palm.
At that moment, a tall waitress brought over two cups of wine.
"Romon, would you like something to eat?" Feiqiya asked. "Perhaps it would be a good idea to let this charming young lady recommend the house specialties. By the way, lovely miss, what is your name?" Feiqiya turned and gave her a man's smile.
"Yvette, honored guests." The waitress playfully lifted the hem of her skirt and gave a slight curtsy. In an instant, the snowy whiteness before her chest dazzled both men's eyes. She seemed to be wearing nothing underneath.
"Oh, you are truly enchanting, like a princess." Feiqiya said extravagantly.
Romon smiled faintly beside him. After graduating from university in his previous life, he had briefly worked as a junior office employee and accompanied his superiors to all kinds of pleasure districts. This scene stirred a vague melancholy within him, so he raised his cup. "A toast to lovely Yvette."
"A toast to lovely Yvette!" The few customers in the tavern actually joined in, raising their cups and cheering.
The tavern's atmosphere immediately became livelier. Wine and women always made men bolder.
"Handsome boy." Yvette leaned close and lightly pecked Romon on the lips. "Compared to your sweet words, I prefer bright yellow gold coins."
The cheering grew louder.
Then a sharp voice rang out. "Yvette, you slut! You actually took a liking to this pretty boy!"
Romon looked at the young man who shoved open the tavern door and stormed in, then touched his own face with a bitter smile. What was this? In Rika, that narrow-minded priest Tennis had misunderstood him. Was the same scene going to play out again at Apus's little tavern?
Old Vilen stopped polishing the wine jug. He slowly came out from behind the counter and happened to block the newcomer's path.
"Listen, young man. My Yvette is free. Whoever she likes or does not like is her freedom. She does not like you pestering her, so Old Vilen does not welcome you either."
"You lowly tavern owner, how dare you speak to me like that? Do you know who I am? I, Jacob, have taken a liking to your daughter..." The young man seemed enraged, but he could not finish his words—Old Vilen simply reached out with one hand, seized Jacob by the neck, and flung the hundred-pound young man onto the gravel road outside the tavern.
Gloating snickers rose from within the tavern.
Romon abruptly stood up. Outside the tavern, a magical force was rapidly transforming into the power of flame, accompanied by a string of incantations. This was...
However, Old Vilen reacted far faster than Romon. He rushed out through the door, and in Romon's special vision, the blood-red glow around Vilen suddenly leapt like flames, leaving behind a red afterimage as he charged out.
The ground trembled slightly. A scream rang out, then cut off abruptly, as though someone had clutched its throat.
Old Vilen's rough voice sounded out. "A First-Level rookie mage dares to cast Flame Palm and run wild in our Apus? Didn't you ask around about who Old Vilen is?"
"This man is no simple fellow. In Apus, he drew the line between sides in an instant." Flame Palm? First-Level Spell? Romon lowered his head, took a small sip from his wooden cup, and thought, Sure enough, if adventurers want to survive battle and enjoy a pleasant old age, muscles alone are not enough.
Feiqiya whistled. "A beautiful charge, followed by a perfect stomp to finish it off. Old Vilen is still as fierce as he was in his youth. Aren't you going to take a look?" Feiqiya nodded toward the tavern patrons rushing outside in a swarm to watch the excitement. "After all, that poor Mr. Whoever met such a miserable end because he was jealous of you."
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