The following day, Lynn, who had remained awake throughout the night, arose late and, taking a fancy-looking empty box, left his room.

As Lynn walked down the pathway, the leaves of the trees rustled softly above him, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air was fresh and filled with the warmth of the sunshine, and Lynn took a deep breath, savoring the clean, crisp scent.

As he turned the corner, the wide training ground came into view. The sound of sharp knocks filled the air, resounding unceasingly across the open space. Lynn turned his head, curious to see what was causing the commotion.

To his surprise, he saw his sister, Iverin, standing in the middle of the training ground, wielding a wooden sword with skill and precision. She struck at the target with swift, sure movements, her blows aimed at vital points with no hesitation. Drops of sweat dripped down her temples and into her neck, evidence of the intense effort she was putting into her training.

Despite the ferocity of her attacks, Iverin's face was a picture of concentration, her eyes focused and determined. She was a skilled fighter, and it was clear that she took her training seriously.

'She truly is diligent' Lynn thought. After the unpleasant events of the previous evening, he did not greet her and walked directly, failing to notice that Iverin, who had been training diligently behind him, had stopped and was gazing at him with a complex expression but after recalling Pedroral's words from the night before, her gaze firmed and her right hand wielded the sword once more, splintering the solid wooden rake to pieces.

Lynn, who had already departed the mansion, was unaware of the occurrences transpiring within. As he walked through the bustling market. He still felt the novelty of such sight, the air was filled with the cacophony of merchants shouting out their wares, the clanging of metal against metal, and the hiss of steam from the blacksmith's forge. The ground beneath his feet was muddy and uneven, the cobblestones slick with rain and the refuse of the market.

The stalls and tents that lined the streets were a riot of color, their fabrics bright and bold against the dull grey of the sky. The merchants sat behind their wares, calling out to the passing crowds in a babel of languages. There was a sense of frenetic energy to the market, a sense that anything and everything was possible.

As he wandered through the crowded streets, he looked at the variety of goods on offer. There were fruits and vegetables, freshly caught fish, and meats hanging from hooks. There were pots and pans, knives and swords, and bolts of cloth. There were perfumes and potions, trinkets and treasures, and all manner of curiosities.

Despite the chaos and noise of the market, there was a sense of community and camaraderie amongst the merchants and shoppers. Everyone seemed to be caught up in the excitement of the market, eager to haggle and bargain for the best deal.

Lynn walk past the crowded streets after procuring some necessary stuff at the stalls, he returned to the port shop where he had visited the previous day with a small rucksack in his back and the fancy-looking empty box he brought.

"Welcome to Bill's... Ah, it is Sir Laut" the elderly halfling greeted him as per usual, but upon recognizing Lynn, he rushed up excitedly and earnestly said, "Regarding the shipment of ships you mentioned yesterday, we can discuss it further... There is no more suitable partner for cooperation in the entire port town than [Einhorn Ship Guild]!"

Lynn did not hasten to reply and leisurely looked around the shop. The shop was small and cramped, filled to the brim with all manner of trinkets and various things. Sunlight streamed in through the dusty windows, casting a warm glow over the cluttered shelves and counters. Every inch of space was packed with glittering objects, delicate figurines, and strange, exotic stuffs from far-off lands. There were racks of colorful silk scarves, stacked barrels of yellow ore, and heaps of golden trinkets that sparkled in the sunlight.

Lynn surveyed around before saying regretfully, "What is the matter? Does Old Lard still not wish to see me?"

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Bill hurriedly explained, "No, no, no, I am certain Boss Lard definitely wants to see you! Unfortunately, he is not currently in the port town, and even if we were to utilize the fastest messenger raven, it would take several days to transmit the message!"

"If Sir Laut has concerns about safety, [Einhorn Ship Guild] can provide corresponding value in goods as collateral," the elderly Bill said, pounding his chest like a drum.

Lynn feigned hesitation for a moment before finally saying, "Very well, if that is the case, it is not unacceptable..."

"Now, tell me who is the current manager of [Einhorn Ship Guild], i wish to speak with him"

"It is undoubtedly Rabul! Please be patient while I fetch him..." As the halfling spoke, he hastened out the door, summoned a cargo worker, whispered a few phrases, and then returned. He stood atop a small stool and offered Lynn a cup of fruit wine.

Lynn accepted the cup and set it aside, not intending to drink it, but instead gestured towards the iron barrels stacked in the corner of the shop and inquired, "What are these objects?"

"Merely some valueless yellow ore that a group of prospectors unearthed from a forsaken mountain in the port town of Sea. They filled an entire boat with it," Bill replied with dejection.

This material is typically only purchased by apothecaries, but the market for yellow ore in Venicel this year has already reached its capacity, thus they must store these goods until next year before they can sell them.

"Sir Laut, if these yellow ores pique your interest, I can offer them at cost. A full barrel is only nineteen copper plates. It is rumored to be highly effective at repelling insects," the halfling rubbed his hands together as he eagerly attempted to sell them.

"No, I simply have not seen them before. I was merely curious," Lynn shook his head and responded placidly.

As the two conversed, a tall, burly man accompanied by several assistants entered the room.

"It is my honor, Sir Laut, to have been informed by Bill that you desire to converse with me personally?" Rabul pushed open the door, a sincere smile spreading across his corpulent face.

"Yes, I am in the process of leasing a grand vessel to transport a very important consignment!" As Lynn spoke, he gravely retrieved a dainty box from his sleeve and placed it on the table. "This is a specimen, I require a private location in which to speak with you alone."

All present directed their gaze towards the palm-sized, exquisite box.

The old halfling surreptitiously speculated whether it might contain some uncommon gem, but upon considering Lynn's need for a large ship to transport it, he quickly discarded the idea.

Rabul, standing nearby, appeared quite earnest. Unlike Bill, he had been a member of the "Guild" for over a decade and would occasionally assist nobles in handling questionable affairs.

For instance, Duke Nordland had been covertly selling an addictive, soul-shattering herb abroad. If the Church were to catch him, most of these small fry would be dragged out to take the blame.

Of course, risk and reward go hand in hand. If the goods are successfully delivered, the profit from this vessel will be sufficient to sustain the "Einshorn Ship Guild" for the majority of the year.

"No problem! We can have a leisurely chat in the shed!" Rabul's thoughts were in turmoil, but the smile on his face only intensified.

Lynn put away the box and followed Rabul out of the shop, crossing most of the street before finally stopping at a seemingly ordinary house.

Rabul, who was well aware of the importance of secrecy, left a few helpers at the door and brought Linen alone to a well-hidden basement.

The stairs were narrow and creaky, and the air grew colder and damper with each step he took. At the bottom of the stairs, he found himself in a large, windowless room. The walls were rough and unfinished, and there was a faint smell of mold and decay. In the center of the room, the space was quite spacious, with only a few rudimentary tables and chairs, but it was impeccably clean. A dimly lit candle can be seen in the corner of the room.

Seeing that Lynn had been continually studying the surroundings since entering the door, Rabul became even more certain of his guesses and assured him with a smile.

"Please be seated, Sir Laut. It is safe and quiet here, and no outsiders will disturb us."

"In that case, I can feel at ease," Lynn laughed as well and pushed the box towards Rabul, indicating, "You can take a look before we talk."

Rabul's nerves were fraught with both anxiety and excitement as he placed his hand on the box, curious as to what forbidden goods lay within. Perhaps it contained soul-shattering grass or Hem stone, though he couldn't imagine it being something as sinister as a demonic idol - or could it? He had heard rumors of the nobles to the west of the Sika Empire dabbling in such occult trinkets.

However, upon opening the box, Rabul was left flabbergasted as he found it completely empty. Had he been duped?

As Rabul's hand instinctively reached for the dagger at his waist, it was too late. In that moment, Lynn had entered a brief overload mode, went behind Rabal, deftly seizing his elbow and bending it at an unnatural angle. A sickening crunch echoed through the room as waves of excruciating pain washed over Rabal. Before he could even cry out, Lynn had grabbed him by the back of the head and viciously slammed him to the ground!

"BAM!"