So That's Why Gentlemen Are Never Safe (3)
What are you going to do? We only have this kind left...
Um···
Even the cleanest little shop in the back alley was run by a middle-aged woman. Ferdan stood looking at the ingredients lined up by the shop owner.
They were obviously not high-quality goods. The leaves had not absorbed pure mana during their growth and had not grown in clean soil.
Normally this shade of green should have been a deep, vibrant green, but the leaves carried a yellowish tint. The texture itself was poor.
The best items from the magic tower’s own farms or from the best farms across the kingdom first went to the tower. The second batch went to the nobles and knights. The remaining third batch was what ended up in private hands.
In other words, those mediocre goods were the ones that circulated in the market. They were used mainly to brew low-grade potions that civilians could actually use.
Of course, even in places like this you might find items that matched the quality supplied to the tower, but Ferdan was not after that.
This was enough. The level of material he needed for his experiments and theories fit this range perfectly.
···I’ll buy all of it.
Yes, yes? Understood.
The shop owner looked at the young master with an odd expression. A noble-born gentleman buying an entire pile of mediocre goods at a place like this was strange.
Since he was buying, the owner nodded and tied the ingredients together with the rope provided in the shop.
Shall I call a porter? Or shall I have it delivered later?
It’s fine. I can carry everything now.
When the platinum-haired young master said that, the owner looked around the shop but saw no carriage or cart.
Nor did he see any other errand boy.
He must have come alone. How was he supposed to carry all of that? The owner herself had carried similar piles of herbs and materials for years, and even the strongest porter would have struggled alone.
The owner thought it over with a worried look, but she simply could not picture such a slim young master carrying such a load.
···Ah, would you like a bag? Since you’ve bought this much, I won’t charge you for the bag.
Ah, I already have a bag.
When the platinum-haired young master took off the cloak he was wearing, a leather bag appeared underneath. It looked a little expensive on the outside but otherwise unremarkable.
The bag was far too small to hold everything. Just then, the owner felt mana coming from the bag.
Even the owner, who had no magical talent at all, felt a clear flow of mana. That meant the bag was a magic tool and had magic woven into it.
May I borrow your help for a moment?
Ah, of course, my guest.
Ferdan and the owner took turns placing ingredients into the bag. Materials that should have been too large to fit somehow slid in anyway.
Once everything was inside, the space inside the bag looked larger than the outside, and the materials appeared smaller.
After all the items were packed, when Ferdan lifted the bag slightly to hand it to the owner, he only felt a slight weight.
Thank you, my guest.
I’ll come again sometime.
With those words, the platinum-haired young man left the shop.
The owner thought it was a strange experience. She had used small magic tools in daily life before, but a bag that reduced weight while increasing capacity? She had never heard of anything like it.
···Could it belong to some noble young master?
The owner wondered about the customer who had just left. Who he was and what kind of item he had bought.
***
Too bad I couldn’t find the one I really wanted, but he said he’d look for it there···
Ferdan Aitana felt satisfied with today’s outing, at least.
He had not found the exact material he wanted most, but he had probably located decent sources for the others. The places had been friendlier than most, and he had to trust that the owner had tried her best for the one item he prized above all.
Has time really passed this much? I need to get back quickly.
Ferdan pulled out his silver pocket watch and checked the time. It had passed even more than he thought.
The materials he needed were exactly the right grade—mediocre but not so poor they were unusable. After hunting all over the market, time had simply slipped away.
Ferdan began walking down a quiet back alley instead of the main road, eager to return to Noche Tower.
Hey!! I found it!!
In a rarely used alley, not even halfway to Northrup Market, a man’s voice rang out.
He was the owner of a shop that had not yet found a buyer after he had spent money on a commission.
H-Haa···!! I found it! I came to deliver good news. Good thing you’re still here!
Good news?
Ferdan’s heart lifted with sudden hope. Had he found the item he wanted?
The rough-looking man approached Ferdan, panting hard, and reached into his pocket as if to show him something.
Our lot also gets some quality, but there’s competition, so we can’t discuss it openly···
He must have written something on paper. Thinking that, Ferdan leaned in to look at the sheet the man was holding open.
Whoosh!!
The man’s hand swung down toward Ferdan’s face. A sweet scent filled his nose. Sleep-inducing perfume.
Instantly Ferdan gathered mana in his palm, creating a counterforce to shove the hand away. But the moment the scent entered his nose, his mind fogged over.
‘Mana isn’t gathering.’
The mana in Ferdan’s hand refused to concentrate. The unusually low cohesion of mana made him uneasy. Still, he thought he could handle one person.
No pocket visible? It must be hidden under the cloak!!
The rough man shouted toward somewhere. While he was distracted, Ferdan reached behind him and tried to control mana covertly.
Slurp!!
A rope flew from behind and bound his wrist. Losing balance, Ferdan fell and was dragged backward.
When he spread his other hand in an attempt to break free, the stone that hit it cut off any chance of keeping mana steady.
Organized hunting. And ambush was the mage’s weakest point. With little experience facing such a coordinated group and being careless, Ferdan had no way out.
He gritted his teeth and tried to extend his fingers, but the crowd stomped and crushed his hand as well.
Pocket? Where are the gold coins?
This young master must be lost. You shouldn’t wander into places like this. You need bodyguards, right?
Uh, ugh···
Ferdan clutched his wounded hand and collapsed. A swarm of thugs gathered around him, drawn by the sight of gold coins.
Should we cut the mana line? Who knows what might happen.
Just kill him. He looks like a young master, so he probably snuck out alone. Who’ll know if we stuff him in a barrel?
Yeah, that makes sense. The gold is here!
The thugs grabbed the gold coins Ferdan had in his pocket and pulled out their knives.
When they tried to silence him by covering his mouth on the ground, Ferdan was already unconscious.
Thud!!!
A dull sound echoed through the alley. The thugs turned to see where the noise had come from, but they only saw their own unconscious companion.
A small stone lay rolling beside him.
If you touch that, you’ll think you’re better off in a barrel. Nope, you already touched it, so it’s too late.
A girl’s voice came from above the alley wall. The thugs looked up and saw a silver-haired girl squatting on the wall, holding a small stone.
That guy is much bigger than he looks.
She threw the stone. Thud! Another thug fell unconscious.
With a light step, the girl landed on the ground. She was small, but her expression was full of energy.
***
Rigel··· Ostrin?
I expected something like this. A young master pampered like you isn’t supposed to be wandering around.
Rigel laughed cheerfully and shrugged, mocking Ferdan. To outsiders she looked like any other lady who didn’t lose to Ferdan, but the feeling was different.
That’s why gentlemen never last long. They think they’ll stay safe forever.
She mocked Ferdan, who was crawling on the ground. Even though her hands were sore and twisted from the beating···
It was the kind of injury that would heal quickly at the magic tower. Rigel didn’t care at all.
So what are you going to do now? Run away right now··· no, put the gold down and come here and bow your head.
The thugs had no idea.
A little girl. A weak, delicate girl was casually showing off in front of burly men.
If they had thought about it a little longer, they would have realized she was relying on something, but excitement had made them forget.
Y-You little girl!!
The angry rough man charged straight at her. While dodging his swinging fist with his palm, he slapped the man’s jaw hard.
The man dropped unconscious instantly. He pressed his boot on the man’s head, then flicked his fingers at the remaining thugs.
I don’t want it to end painfully. So come here and bow your heads fast.
U-uuuuaaah!!!
He screamed and lunged. The thugs, who had never learned proper punching, stood no chance against a trained knight.
Even though Rigel’s power was weak right now, it was still far above normal people compared to the standards of a knight.
She dodged the fist coming at her with her arm. If she extended her fist straight, the man would collapse from a jaw or throat strike.
In an instant several thugs fell, and the man at the back with a knife rushed at her, swinging it wildly.
Carrying something dangerous.
The man was panicking. The girl was small. She wasn’t even fast. Yet when he swung the knife, she was already gone.
He felt as if he had read every one of her movements, so he couldn’t stay calm.
Uh, uuuuuuuuah!!!
After several reads, she lightly tapped the man’s jaw and passed by as if mocking him.
The humiliated man charged at her with all his strength, knife raised.
Whoosh!
Rigel dodged it lightly. She spun once and drove her elbow into his temple.
The man convulsed and fell.
Before long the entire group was on the ground, clutching their necks and groaning or crawling in pain.
If you had listened, this would have ended with just a bow. Why are you still doing this.
Thud, thud. Rigel clapped her palms together to brush off the dust, then looked at Ferdan lying on the ground.