Ch. 46 - The Sunset Tavern

Morning sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains. Robb had already reopened his eyes from his meditative state.

He'd requested the day off from Lady Elena before leaving yesterday. Today, he'd decided to try his luck at the black market for those special materials.

With that in mind, he pulled out the faintly glowing parchment once more and studied the items listed.

Dream-Devourer Spider Eye Fluid, Moonshade Bat Heart Ash, Crystallized Moss, Night-Whisper Pollen...

In the booklet of guidelines he'd received during his Elementary Apprentice certification, he'd found most of these materials on the Prohibited Trade Goods list.

"These really can only be obtained through the black market's unofficial channels..."

Just as he was working through his approach, a rapid series of knocks sounded at the door.

Robb went to open it and found Arnor wearing a practical dark outfit, his golden hair tied back simply, clearly prepared for today's "unofficial business."

"Good morning, esteemed ally."

After the teasing greeting, Arnor slipped inside without ceremony, shut the door behind him, and dropped his voice. "Have you planned today's route?"

Robb nodded, pointing to the parchment spread on the bed. "Priority one is locating these materials, or at least narrowing down where to find them."

Arnor leaned in for a look. His frown deepened steadily. "Good lord, what exactly is Lady Elena trying to brew? Even 'Parched Tongue Lichen' is on this list."

"You know what that is?" Robb was somewhat surprised.

"Of course. It's a common ingredient in advanced curse-type spells." Arnor's expression turned grave. "Supposedly, you have to bind a living person in the desert and let them die of thirst before you can extract material with sufficient potency to serve as a casting medium."

A chill ran through Robb. Whatever Lady Elena intended to brew, it clearly wasn't anything benign.

But he made his decision quickly, since he'd agreed, he'd see it through.

"Good thing I've got you, the walking encyclopedia who knows a little about everything." He clapped the golden-haired youth on the shoulder. "Otherwise I'd have no idea where to even start looking."

"I'm truly honored to be of service to the young Lord Robb." Arnor allowed himself a smug smile. "As it happens, I do know a few things about the black market."

He checked the sky. "The timing works well. Around this time each month, the Sunset Tavern holds a special trading session. We can go see what's available."

Robb quickly gathered his essentials, some Mana Crystal Fragments, his weapon for self-defense, and a few self-brewed potions, then the two quietly slipped out of the apprentice dormitory.

Following a series of seldom-traveled paths, they gradually moved away from the Black Mist Order's central district, heading toward the mortal settlements and market streets on the Black Mist Order's outer fringes.

"Watch for informants."

Arnor warned in a low voice as they walked. "The faction doesn't explicitly forbid apprentices from visiting the black market area, but if you're caught red-handed trading in prohibited goods, they won't turn down the Mana Crystal Fragments that come with a fine."

So essentially... entrapment. Robb nodded and filed it away, sharpening his awareness of their surroundings.

Through the keen perception granted by his multiple classes, he could feel that the further they traveled toward the Black Mist Order's edges, the more chaotic the mana fluctuations in the air became.

All manner of disordered energy traces intertwined, creating a distinctive atmosphere.

After navigating several winding alleyways, they finally stood before a dilapidated two-story wooden building.

"This is the place, the Sunset Tavern." Arnor glanced up at the sign dangling precariously above the door.

"On the surface, just an ordinary tavern. In reality, it's the safest underground trading venue in this district."

Pushing open the Sunset Tavern's creaking wooden door, they were hit by a complex blend of alcohol, tobacco, and the various body odors of multiple species.

Robb wrinkled his nose, trying to adjust to the overwhelming pungency.

The interior was dimly lit, a few Mana Crystal lamps barely illuminating the cramped space.

Beyond sight and smell, the low murmur of diverse creatures chatting and the clink of glasses merged into an eerie kind of harmony.

Bizarre beings of all shapes sat crammed together. Some had mountain-like frames yet huddled in corners, sipping from enormous wooden tankards. Others were small and nimble, yet could drain cups larger than their own heads in a single gulp.

These strange characters, conversing in hushed tones or drinking in solitude, lent the place an air that was equal parts mysterious and dangerous.

Robb's gaze swept the tavern. He spotted several humans in varied attire mixed among the crowd.

Some wore the tattered garments typical of exiles, others sported lavish noble-style robes, and a few looked like hunters or mercenaries. Their eyes, almost without exception, were wary and sharp.

"Over there." Arnor gave Robb's sleeve a light tug, his voice barely above a whisper. He indicated the far end of the bar with his eyes. "See that gray dwarf? That's Otto, a fairly reliable intermediary I know."

Robb followed his gaze and spotted a heavily bearded figure sitting on a barstool, no taller than an average person's waist. A half-finished mug of beer sat before him.

The dwarf looked like a crumpled boulder that had been granted life, gray-brown skin, calloused hands gripping his mug as though it were a priceless treasure.

They approached the bar. Arnor gave the bartender a practiced signal, then murmured to Robb. "Let me handle this. Otto doesn't like strangers asking about trades directly."

The bartender soon delivered two mugs of cloudy, foaming liquid. Robb accepted his carefully, it gave off a sour, puckering smell, with a layer of froth floating on top.

Arnor took a sip from his mug, then turned toward the gray dwarf with studied nonchalance. "Long time no see, Lord Otto. The ale here is still as dreadful as ever."

The gray dwarf didn't look up. He merely tapped the rim of his mug with a rough finger, producing a rhythmic thunk-thunk, as though confirming some kind of signal. "Oh? Which old friend has come calling?"

The voice was low and gravelly, like two rough stones grinding against each other.

"That copy of [The Highland Vein Atlas] you found for me last time was a tremendous help."

Arnor spoke in a specific coded phrasing, his voice dropping even lower. "Shame I ran into a bit of trouble afterward and had to get rid of the book. A real pity, it was a rare find."

Only upon hearing this did the dwarf slowly raise his head. A pair of blue eyes glinted beneath bushy brows.

Those eyes stood in stark contrast to his rugged exterior, clear and keen, betraying an intelligence that didn't match his appearance.

"Well, well. If it isn't the little prince himself." He spoke softly, scanning their surroundings with practiced caution. "Seems like you've got another special request?"

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