Morning sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains as Robb slowly opened his eyes, emerging from his meditation.
He had already requested leave from Lady Elena before leaving the day before, and today he was set on venturing into the black market to hunt for some particularly rare materials.
With that in mind, he once again pulled out the faintly glowing parchment and carefully reviewed the list:
Dreamweaver Spider Eye Fluid, Moonshadow Bat Heart Ash, Crystalline Moss, Nightwhisper Pollen…
He remembered seeing most of these items on the "Prohibited Trade Goods" list in the handbook he'd received upon being certified as a low-level apprentice.
"These really can only be obtained through black market channels…"
As he was thinking of how to proceed, a sharp knock sounded at the door.
Robb opened it to find Andrey dressed in a set of practical dark casual clothes, his blond hair simply tied back—clearly ready for today's secret "off-the-record" mission.
"Good morning, dear ally."
With a joking greeting, Andrey stepped inside without hesitation, quietly shutting the door behind him and lowering his voice.
"Have you figured out today's plan?"
Robb nodded and pointed to the parchment laid out on the bed.
"Priority one is finding these materials—or at least getting a general idea of where to look."
Andrey leaned over to take a look, his brow slowly furrowing. "Gods, what on earth is Lady Elena trying to brew? Even Thirster's Tongue Moss is on here."
"You know what that is?" Robb was surprised.
"Of course. It's a common ingredient in curse-type advanced spells," Andrey replied seriously.
"It's said that the only way to acquire it is to bind a living person in the desert until they die of thirst, and then extract the dried tongue moss that grows from the trauma. Only then does it gain enough potency to serve as a casting medium."
Robb felt a chill run through him. Whatever Lady Elena was planning to brew, it clearly wasn't some wholesome little potion.
But he made up his mind quickly—he had agreed to this, and he was going to see it through.
"Well, good thing I have you, Mr. Jack-of-all-Trades," he said, patting the blond teen on the shoulder. "Otherwise I'd be completely lost trying to track this stuff down."
"Well then, it's my honor to be of service to young lord Robb," Andrey grinned. "And when it comes to black market dealings, I do know a few things."
He glanced at the sky. "This is the perfect time, too. Around this point in the month, the Sunset Tavern holds its special trading event. We might just get lucky."
Robb quickly packed a few essentials—some magic crystals, a concealed weapon, and a few self-made potions. Then the two slipped out of the apprentice dorm area unnoticed.
Taking little-used paths, they slowly left the central grounds of the Order, heading toward the outskirts of the Black Mist Forest, where human settlements and open markets sprawled.
"Keep an eye out for informants."
Andrey spoke in a low voice as they moved. "The Order won't officially ban apprentices from visiting the black market, but if they catch you trading in forbidden goods, they'll have no problem confiscating your magic stone fragments."
A classic case of entrapment, Robb thought as he nodded silently and heightened his vigilance.
Thanks to his multi-class sensitivities, he could feel the ambient magic growing more chaotic the farther they moved from the Order's heart.
Mixed, unstable magical traces weaved together, creating a strange, charged atmosphere.
After winding through several twisting alleyways, they arrived at a worn-down, two-story wooden building.
"This is it—Sunset Tavern," Andrey said, looking up at the rickety sign hanging above the door.
"On the surface, it's just a regular bar. But in reality, it's the safest underground trading hub in the region."
They pushed open the tavern's creaky wooden door, and were hit by a wave of smells—alcohol, smoke, and the body scents of all kinds of non-human races, mingling into a thick, almost suffocating stench.
Robb wrinkled his nose, trying to adapt to the pungent air.
The tavern was dimly lit. A few magic crystal lamps barely illuminated the packed space.
Alongside the smells and shadows were the murmurs of conversations, the clink of mugs, and the occasional deep, guttural laugh—creating a bizarre, uneasy harmony.
Grotesque, mismatched beings crowded together—some as tall as mountains, curled in corners sipping from mugs the size of barrels;
Others were tiny and nimble, but downed drinks twice the size of their own heads in a single gulp.
Their quiet chats and solitary drinking made the place feel both mysterious and dangerous.
Robb's eyes scanned the tavern. Mixed among the creatures were a few humans in different attire:
Some wore the ragged clothes typical of exiles,
Others sported elegant noble robes,
A few dressed like hunters or mercenaries, each with sharp, guarded eyes.
"There."
Andrey tugged lightly on Robb's sleeve and nodded subtly toward the corner of the bar.
"See that gray dwarf? That's Otto, a broker I know. Fairly reliable."
Robb followed his gaze and spotted a short, bearded dwarf sitting on a high stool, a half-finished mug of beer in front of him.
The dwarf looked like a wrinkled rock come to life—gray-brown skin, calloused hands gripping the mug like it was a priceless treasure.
The two made their way to the bar. Andrey made a practiced gesture to the bartender, then turned to Robb and whispered, "Let me handle this. Otto doesn't like strangers asking about deals directly."
The bartender soon brought over two mugs of bubbling, murky liquid. Robb cautiously accepted his. The drink gave off a sour, unpleasant odor, and was topped with a layer of foamy scum.
Andrey took a light sip, then turned casually toward the dwarf.
"Long time no see, Mr. Otto. The ale's still as awful as ever."
The gray dwarf didn't even look up. He tapped the rim of his mug with a rough finger, making a rhythmic thunk thunk thunk, as if checking for a secret code.
"Oh? Which old friend is it this time?"
His voice was deep and gravelly, like two stones scraping together.
"That book you helped me find last time—The Highland Atlas—was a real lifesaver."
Andrey leaned closer and spoke in a hushed, coded tone.
"Too bad I ran into some trouble later and had to ditch it. A real shame… That was a rare book."
At that, the dwarf finally looked up. Beneath thick brows, a pair of piercing blue eyes gleamed with intelligence.
Those eyes were sharp, clear, and completely at odds with his rugged appearance—radiating a cunning far deeper than his stony exterior suggested.
"Heh. So it's you, little prince."
He spoke quietly, glancing around warily.
"Looks like you've got something special in mind again?"