Ch. 50 - The Trading District, Non-Human Vendors

Robb nodded silently. In a world where supernatural forces prevailed, even the most inconspicuous organism could possess capabilities beyond imagination.

"Lizard Alley, the name says it all. It was originally founded because a large number of lizardfolk merchants congregated here."

Arnor explained as he led the way.

"Lizardfolk have a natural talent for commerce. Their homeland was in the southwestern swamplands, but as human territories expanded, some border-dwelling non-human groups were forced to migrate. A band of lizardfolk merchants discovered that the area near the Black Mist Order suited their survival needs, and that governance here was lax enough for their purposes. So they settled down and started trading on a small scale."

He pushed aside a particularly dense cluster of mushrooms, revealing a clearer path. "These days, though, it's become a multi-species trading district. You can find virtually anything there."

"One more thing." He suddenly stopped and turned to face Robb, his expression turning exceptionally grave.

"Lizard Alley merchants are notorious for their cunning. They especially love pulling tricks on outsiders. What Otto did, testing customers with fakes, is the most basic play. There are far more elaborate schemes waiting for you."

"Understood." Robb nodded, an unconscious smile of confidence touching his lips.

"You just saw my ability to authenticate materials. I'm not too worried about being swindled. And the heightened perception from my advancement to Elementary Apprentice should be enough to handle most fraud attempts."

"Let's hope so."

Arnor sighed, his expression growing complicated. He'd always envied his companion's advancement and potioneering talent.

"Still, while the goods here are hard to judge by quality or authenticity, they're far more negotiable on price than anything in the Black Mist Order market. With your authentication skills, we could also pick up some standard materials to bring back while we're at it."

They crossed through a lifeless stand of dead trees, brittle branches snapping underfoot. The air carried a scent of decay.

Ahead, a narrow flagstone road appeared, utterly unlike the tangled trails before. This one was smooth and orderly.

Stone pillars of peculiar shape flanked both sides, each carved with multi-headed dragon totems. Some had been worn nearly featureless by wind and rain, but the fierce dragon heads could still be made out.

"We're here." Arnor dropped his voice. "This is the entrance to Lizard Alley."

Robb could feel how starkly different this place was from the Sunset Tavern. The air seethed with far more chaotic mana fluctuations.

Traces of disparate energies tangled together without pattern, creating an unsettling atmosphere.

It was a blend of multiple supernatural systems and non-human bloodline signatures, no discernible order, yet somehow maintaining a fragile equilibrium.

The instant he stepped onto the flagstones, Robb felt a mild stinging sensation travel up from his soles, as though something were scanning his body.

His guard went up instinctively, but Arnor's expression remained calm, apparently this was just routine screening.

"Relax. It's just the entrance defense mechanism checking whether we're carrying any mass-destruction supernatural items."

Arnor explained quietly. "They don't restrict personal weapons, but they don't allow powerful alchemical explosives that could threaten the entire market."

Robb relaxed and continued forward.

Passing through the simple archway formed by the stone pillars, the scene before him was breathtaking.

This was no mere "alley", it was a narrow but extraordinarily long street district, both sides crammed with improvised stalls and crude shopfronts.

Unlike the Sunset Tavern's secrecy, transactions here were conducted completely in the open. Hawking calls, haggling, arguments, laughter, and cursing all merged into an eccentric symphony.

All manner of bizarre creatures moved through the streets, lizardfolk with scaled skin of varying builds, all clad in vivid fabrics, metal ornaments jingling as they walked.

Diminutive, sharp-eared goblins darted about, their eyes spinning restlessly as though cataloguing which targets were ripe for pickpocketing.

There were even a few trolls, three meters tall, hunching carefully to avoid the low overhangs. Tribal tattoos covered their rough hides.

Humans were present too, but most looked like exiles or adventurers, ragged clothing, watchful expressions, a stark contrast to the pampered apprentices within the Black Mist Order.

"Watch for those markings." Arnor pointed to special symbols hung at certain stalls. "Red triangle means supernatural materials, blue circle is weapons and equipment, yellow square is miscellaneous curiosities. We're mainly looking at the red triangle stalls."

The two made their way slowly along Lizard Alley, stopping periodically to inspect stalls bearing the red triangle.

Most displayed common herbs, serpent-fang grass, evening primrose, silver-glow mushrooms, and the like.

Occasionally something slightly rarer appeared, dragonwhisker grass or fire-crystal orchid, but the rare materials from Lady Elena's list proved elusive.

Cutting through a narrow side alley, Robb carefully avoided the scattered refuse and unidentifiable liquids on the ground.

The air was thick with a bizarre medley of herbs, rotting meat, and non-human body odors.

"There, look."

Arnor pointed toward a crude tent stitched together from animal hides. In front of it, a small green-skinned goblin was fussing over an assortment of bottles and jars.

"That goblin's an alchemist. Mediocre skill, but his material collection is surprisingly comprehensive, especially supplies needed for knight training."

They approached the tent, and the goblin immediately looked up. A pair of yellow-brown eyes glinted with mercantile shrewdness.

"Well, well, rare visitors! What treasures are you young sirs after?" The goblin spoke in heavily accented Common, baring a mouthful of sharp yellow teeth.

"We need some materials for brewing Vitality Elixir."

Robb said calmly, though his eyes were already scanning the tent's inventory with keen precision.

"Fire-crystal orchid root, crimson iron grass, and dragonblood leaves, if you have them."

The goblin's eyes lit up. "Oh? Young bloodline practitioners? Don't see many of those around here."

He burrowed into the depths of the tent, rummaged for a while, then emerged with several small cloth bags and glass vials. "Everything's right here. Top quality, fair prices."

Robb examined the materials with his [Herb Identification] ability.

The fire-crystal orchid root gave off a faintly luminous red, the hallmark of premium quality.

The crimson iron grass leaves had fine serrated edges that conveyed a sharp, cutting sensation to the touch.

And the dragonblood tree leaves in the small glass vials exhibited a deep, dark crimson, apparently still retaining a trace of vitality.

"Not bad at all. These are fresh, and the quality is quite good." Robb nodded with satisfaction, then asked. "What's the price?"

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