《Merchant God》
Chapter 1
The young teen, an outsider to this strange gathering, felt a sense of awe as he stood before the immense medieval gate. He watched as a sea of teenagers, all dressed identically, flowed towards the castle''s entrance. The outfit they wore was unlike anything he had seen before¡ªa uniform of sorts, with a unique emblem embroidered on the chest. As he followed the crowd, he felt a mix of curiosity and trepidation.
What was this place, and why were so many gathered here? Stepping through the gate, the teen found himself in a vast courtyard, surrounded by towering walls and intricate architecture. The castle, it seemed, was a labyrinth of stone corridors and grand halls. The teenagers moved with purpose, they approach the guards with their identity emblem and is immediately allow in through the huge door. The teen noticed that the emblem on the students'' uniforms varied slightly, possibly indicating different houses or factions within this mysterious academy.
A retinue of liveried servants, butlers and maids predominantly, trailed some of the adolescents, burdened with their considerable baggage. He felt a sense of intrigue as he imagined the secrets and skills that lay within these ancient walls.
As the young teen followed the crowd, he became aware of a peculiar sensation. He felt as if he were shrinking, his eyes drawn to the tall figures of the other teenagers. It was then that he realized his own attire had transformed. He, too, now wore the unique uniform, the emblem on his chest matching those of the others. It was an extraordinary feeling, as if he had suddenly become a part of this mysterious gathering. The teen''s curiosity grew as he noticed the slight variations in the emblems, indicating a complex system of houses or factions within this ancient academy. He wondered which house he belonged to.
His final recollection was the express bus hurtling him homeward from his day''s labor. A customary catnap had been his intention, instead a jarring translocation to an alien plane of existence seized him, thrusting him into another''s life. A frantic hand plunged into his pockets yielded only a stark, metallic identity tag ¨C a chillingly inadequate marker in this bewildering new reality.
Name - Husayn
Birth - Common
A sudden uproar erupted beyond the gates, the rhythmic clatter of approaching carriages abruptly ceasing. As the adolescents alighted, their forms emerging from the opulent vehicles, a chilling certainty washed over him. The precise location of his unexpected displacement solidified in his mind.
From the carriage descended Cecilia Randall, a vision of striking beauty, long, raven hair framing a face that bespoke both grace and power. The Duke''s daughter, she is a heroine of this realm, her very presence commanding attention. Aloof and disdainful, she maintains a frigid distance from her classmates, her gaze condescendingly fixed upon those she deems feeble and timid. Within four years of leaving the academy, her mastery over glacial magic would transform her into a formidable archmage, a devastating force on the battlefield, unleashing deadly ice storms.
From a gleaming chariot of gold emerged Aella Burton, princess of Sladour, a vision of blonde beauty. Her radiant smile and graceful wave instantly captivated the assembled students. Her hair, the color of spun moonlight, cascaded down her back, catching the light in a waterfall of shimmering gold. A gasp rippled through the crowd ¨C a sound like wind whispering through tall grass. Her smile, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips, revealed teeth as flawlessly white as seashells. It wasn''t just a smile. It was a sunrise, chasing away the shadows. With a gesture, fluid and elegant as a dancer''s, she raised a hand. The heavy rings on her fingers, each a miniature work of art, winked in the sunlight.
A student, emboldened by her captivating presence, blurted out, "Your Highness¡ it¡¯s¡ it''s truly an honor.¡±
Aella''s response was a soft, melodic chuckle that seemed to carry on the warm breeze. "The honor, I assure you, is all mine."
Her eyes, the clear blue of a summer sky, held a hint of amusement, then shifted to a thoughtful gaze, sweeping across the expectant faces before her. Another heroine of this realm, she is a future formidable warrior, absorbing blows with unwavering resilience while unleashing devastating melee attacks. Her incandescent blade, a beacon of pure power, effortlessly cleaves through almost any defense.
Finally, a striking young man with fiery red hair emerged from the carriage. Disregarding the crowd, he advanced directly to Cecilia, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. This was Artemis Greyhound, the singular heir to the dukedom, the only son, destined to inherit his father''s vast power upon completing his studies. A formidable opponent, he stands as an insurmountable barrier to any romantic pursuit of either Cecilia or Aella. This adolescent pyromancer, a prodigy of apocalyptic potential, wields the power to obliterate entire battlefields with devastating firestorms. His insufferable arrogance and burning pride fuel an unyielding hatred of defeat.
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Unfazed, Aella permitted Artemis''s approach. Following their passage past Husayn, a wave of stunned silence rippled through the previously bustling student body, instantly erupting into a cacophony of excitement. Overwhelmed with elation, several students wept openly, overcome by the sheer joy of a fleeting glance from the trio.
Suddenly, a pivotal memory surfaced in Husayn''s mind. The name of the role-playing game he''d immersed himself in before his inexplicable arrival in this strange reality. "Heroes of Sladour" ¨C a title that resonated with chilling familiarity. The game demanded strategic investment in character development, demanding players diligently cultivate both attributes and vital alliances within the academy''s rigorous environment. Each unfolding chapter brought with it a brutal assault on the academy, its catastrophic aftermath inextricably linked to the player''s critical choices and decisive actions.
Hailed as a hero, the player receives unwavering support from his newly forged ally in their quest to vanquish the demonic sovereign. United, they embark on a relentless campaign, systematically dismantling the nearby labyrinthine fortresses, one formidable dungeon at a time. Triumphantly vanquishing the demonic sovereign concluded the player''s arduous journey. The subsequent epilogue, however, branched into profoundly divergent paths, shaped entirely by his preceding choices. He might claim the hands of both enchanting schoolmates in a union of unprecedented bliss or perhaps settle for a single cherished companion. Alternatively, a return to his ancestral village offered a chance at a simpler, yet equally poignant destiny ¨C reuniting with his childhood sweetheart, provided fate had spared her life.
The full, agonizing reality of the varied uniforms finally dawned on Husayn. His namelessness, his lack of a patrimonial lineage, branded him a commoner in this stratified society. Yet, his identification proved authentic, a passport to passage, allowing him unimpeded entry. Trailing the students, Husayn entered a breathtaking, cavernous dome. Rows of unoccupied seats stretched before him, a silent invitation to choose. Opting for a strategic position near the exit, he settled into a seat, prepared for a swift departure.
During the wait, a young woman settled beside him. Introducing herself as Elara, she radiated an almost palpable joy. Her acceptance into the world''s preeminent academy, she confided, felt like a stroke of unparalleled luck. A gifted practitioner of magic arts, she expressed unwavering confidence in her upcoming assessment, anticipating a triumphant outcome. His chat with Elara left Husayn with a stark realization. He possessed no aptitude, neither for the physical nor the magic arts. The grim prospect of expulsion from the academy now loomed large. A hushed utterance, a clandestine attempt at communication, escaped Husayn''s lips.
A diaphanous azure pane materialized before him, a shimmering display of his vital essence. His identity, years lived, inherent capabilities, unallocated potential, and learned skills were laid bare within its ethereal glow.
Strength - 7
Dexterity - 5
Intelligence - 6
Endurance - 4
Talents - Central Market and Inventory
Central Market - Allows user to purchase anything with the use of gold coins within the market. The gold used will be replenish back to the land.
Inventory - Allow users to store non-living items in another dimension. The time won¡¯t flow within the dimension.
Silence descended as the last student found their place. From the wings emerged Dean Corvus Grant, a figure of arresting presence who commanded the center of the auditorium. His arrival stilled the restless energy of the assembled youth. Handsome, yes, but beneath that youthful facade lurked a soul of immense age¡ªfour centuries etched into his very being. He was one of the eight remaining archmages, a testament to an enduring power in a world increasingly devoid of magic.
Commencing the address, Corvus lauded the assembled students for their triumph in the preliminary trials. A grave shadow then fell upon his words; he painted a stark picture of imminent global peril, imploring this generation to forge the champions needed to vanquish the looming threats. While the pronouncement largely washed over his classmates, Husayn felt a chilling certainty. the demonic sovereign''s resurgence loomed, a mere three years hence, casting the specter of relentless warfare across their third and fourth years of study.
Corvus extended a prestigious invitation to Cecilia, appointing her as the freshman class representative. Overwhelmed by this distinguished honor, Cecilia expressed her profound gratitude to the academy and offered a warm welcome to the newly admitted students. With graceful assurance, she then announced the upcoming assignment, the crucial task of classroom allocation. Reassuringly, she emphasized the familiar nature of the process, explaining that the students would undergo a reiteration of their initial aptitude assessments¡ªphysical or magical, depending on their inherent capabilities.
A cold sweat slicked Husayn''s skin, this was his deepest, darkest fear realized. The utter void where his past should have been ¨C a terrifying blankness encompassing all actions taken by this vessel before this day ¨C paralyzed him. He agonized over the crucial decision. Should he bravely confront the physical trials or risk the unpredictable, magic mysteries of the magical assessment?
Faced with the daunting physical assessment, Husayn had no alternative. His lack of magical prowess left him with a single, desperate strategy. He would attempt to demonstrate unwavering commitment, striving for excellence by relentlessly attacking the training dummy with his blade. Success hinged on the academy recognizing his ferocious effort.
Seconds ticked by, then remorse gnawed at him. He''d foolishly dismissed the physical challenge; the colossal rock hurtling past was stark testament to his error. The projectile''s source. A seemingly diminutive girl, radiating self-satisfaction with a triumphant smirk. The students around her erupted in thunderous applause, a testament to her astounding strength.
The examiner permits each student to uniquely demonstrate their exceptional physical aptitudes. Following each student presentation, Husayn''s anxiety intensified; he yearned for his opportunity to decisively conclude this agonizing ordeal. Examining Husayn''s student identification and the photograph therein, a crease of doubt furrowed his brow. He then posed the query with weighty implication.
"Do you genuinely intend to participate in the physical assessment?"
With a tremor in his hands, Husayn selected a weighty metal chisel from the rack. He approached his chosen crag, a monumental block of granite, his resolve hardening. He struck it with a ferocious blow, the full force of his body behind the swing. Yet, the unyielding stone proved too powerful. The chisel, jarring violently against the rock''s implacable surface, ripped free from his grasp, hurtling dangerously close to the patiently waiting students.
Ignoring Husayn''s near miss, the examiner barked, "Next!" A chorus of indignant whispers from fellow students followed, rebuking him for his reckless proximity. Husayn understood their disdain. A paltry strength score of seven was utterly unimpressive, a far cry from the awe-inspiring power he yearned to command. Gazing heavenward, Husayn yearned for continued enrollment in the academy, clinging to the fervent wish that his life wouldn''t conclude anonymously.
Chapter 2
In the wake of the exam''s conclusion, Husayn trailed the throng of departing students, his destination the academy''s luxurious cafeteria. There, amidst a boundless expanse of culinary delights, all students enjoyed the unparalleled privilege of limitless, complimentary meals. A tempting array of culinary delights sat before Husayn, yet his stomach remained stubbornly empty. The urgency of his predicament. The stark possibility of a life on the unforgiving streets, devoid of shelter, overwhelmed any desire for sustenance. He understood acutely that unless he devised a contingency plan immediately, his future would be bleak and perilous.
Contrary to his anticipations, Husayn''s transmigration lacked the commonplace advantages others enjoyed. He yearned for even a rudimentary advantage, a simple boon granting him the inconspicuous status of a student within the game''s vast, uncaring landscape. With a sharp, self-administered blow, Husayn jolted himself free from the corrosive grip of despair, replacing it with a determined, proactive assessment of his contingency plans should expulsion from the academy become his grim reality. Following a protracted two-hour period, a booming declaration reverberated through the hall, informing students that the classroom configuration was finalized. The consequential results were subsequently unveiled in the expansive expanse of the playing fields.
Abandoning their half-eaten meals, the students fled the cafeteria. Husayn, in contrast, departed at a leisurely pace. As he ambled toward the exit, Elara intercepted him.
"Well met!" she chirped. "Have you seen your class assignment yet? I''m in Class C."
Husayn shook his head, confessing his ignorance. Elara''s eyebrows shot up in astonishment. "No? Oh, dear! I certainly hope we''re together."
"I sincerely hope so as well." Husayn responded, a hint of yearning in his voice, before adding, "Until we meet again." With a farewell wave to Elara, a profound weariness settled upon him as he continued his journey to the playing field, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.
Only Cecilia remained, her gaze fixed on the immense scoreboard, when Husayn reached the field. The lingering shock of defeat, a bitter pill for the former student representative, etched itself upon her face. He recalled this was the moment Cecilia, like others before her, grappled with the unexpected triumph of the protagonist. Her stunned expression was a testament to the protagonist''s unforeseen victory.
Unseen, Husayn avoided the heroines'' notice, his movements deliberate as he crept to the notice board. A familiar chill settled over him as his gaze fell upon the damning word ¨C "Rejected" ¨C beside his name. A grim, self-deprecating murmur, "As expected huh." escaped his lips.
Husayn''s solitary journey toward his audacious scheme proceeded unimpeded. The academy, deserted save for the echoing silence of empty hallways, lay under the invisible, yet potent, aegis of the dean''s magical barrier. No sentinels stood watch. All were isolated in their places of learning, leaving him to traverse the grounds unchallenged. After a grueling half-hour journey, Husayn finally arrived at the dean''s imposing office. With a surge of apprehension, he essayed a tentative knock.
Before Husayn''s hand even grazed the door, a youthful voice, vibrant with authority, issued from the office, granting him immediate entry. Husayn''s gaze met the dean as the door swung inward.
The dean''s lips parted, uttering a proposition laced with unexpected leniency. "An appeal is possible, should you choose it. Undertake the magical assessment this time."
Husayn, unprepared for this second opportunity, understood the futility of an appeal, it wouldn''t rectify the underlying problem.
Husayn''s response was firm, unwavering. "I seek not a reconsideration."
The dean, mid-action, paused, his expression shifting before a curious query escaped his lips: "Then, pray tell, what is the purpose of your visit?"
Husayn inquired earnestly, "Does the academy experience any shortages? I''m keen to establish a provisionary stall right here on campus."
"An ambitious young trader exists, undeniably. Among your associates, do you know a single soul versed in the arcane arts of potion-making?" Corvus inquired, his voice edged with urgency.
Husayn responded, "I''m acquainted with an individual who would deeply cherish the privilege of receiving such exceptional prospects."
"In that case, you have a month to find the individual and settle in the academy compound. I look forward to having another merchant with us."
Corvus, bestowing upon Husayn a coveted letter of acceptance, offered a warm smile. The document granted Husayn merchant status, a significant boon facilitating his unrestricted access to and egress from the academy''s hallowed halls. Thus, Corvus eagerly anticipated the addition of such a valuable associate to their ranks.
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Without a moment''s delay, Husayn departed the academy, his purpose unwavering, to seek out the enigmatic alchemist. Embracing the chance to explore, Husayn ventured through the town, immersing himself in the tangible reality of a fantastical realm he''d once only known through a game. His virtual existence had largely confined him to the academy''s walls, venturing forth only during mandatory excursions or when demonic incursions threatened the city''s very existence. To safeguard against exploitation, Husayn meticulously surveyed several retail establishments, diligently comparing prices and acquiring a comprehensive understanding of market values. Afterwards, he proceeded directly to the adventurous guild.
A throng of clamorous patrons surged around the guild''s reception desk, a frenzied mob vying for the acquisition of life-saving potions. Their desperate cries echoed through the hall as guild staff, struggling against the tide of frantic demand, made futile attempts to restore order. A newcomer to the city, Husayn cautiously approached a staff member, his query laced with apprehension. He possessed a valuable inventory of potent elixirs, yet uncertainty clouded his prospects. He anxiously inquired about the feasibility of dispensing his wares without the formal affiliation of the merchant''s guild, a weighty concern weighing heavily on his mind.
Initially, the staff''s faces radiated enthusiasm, yet a shadow fell upon them after learning of Husayn''s unregistered status within the merchant''s guild. With urgent insistence, they plead for his immediate enrollment. However, as Husayn prepared to comply, a crucial detail surfaced, the academy''s autonomous nature, exempt from the territorial levies imposed by the city''s overlord, struck him with profound significance. With a decisive pivot, Husayn produced the academy''s coveted acceptance letter, a triumphant document he proudly presented to the awestruck staff.
"As a tradesman contracted by the esteemed academy, this document attests to my employment," Husayn offered a reassuring smile. "Is formal enrollment to the merchant guild still required?"
A wave of cheerful expressions illuminated the staff''s faces. They then enthusiastically conveyed that a mutually beneficial exchange with Husayn was a distinct possibility.
"Very well, then. Describe the precise concoction you require, and specify the desired quantity," Husayn inquired, his tone conveying both readiness and a subtle sense of anticipation.
Husayn felt a forceful grip on his arm. The employee''s urgent tug propelled him upward, a captive ascent to the second floor. She then informs that she is powerless to authorize such a substantial acquisition. Summoned to the guild leader''s sanctuary, Husayn found himself in the presence of a wizened crone, her imposing, powerfully built second-in-command looming beside her.
A wave of letdown washed over Husayn, he''d envisioned a radiant figurehead leading the guild, not this old woman. Before committing to a transaction, the guild master, with meticulous care, insisted on rigorous verification of the potion''s potency. Husayn informs the guild master of his diverse potion inventory, but insists verification requires an actual purchase. A cruel twist of fate, however, left him impecunious despite his theoretically limitless purchasing power. The enigma of his previous body handling of the treasury remained an unsettling mystery. Husayn does not have any gold to start with.
The crone, after a period of profound deliberation, chose a health potion of moderate potency. Husayn, his fingers itching for the restorative draught, swiftly exchanged his new received gold for a similar elixir in the central marketplace. With a deceptive flourish, he mimicked the act of retrieving it, his nimble skill secretly transferring the newly acquired potion from his personal inventory into his satchel. Place the potion on the table in front of him to allow the guild master to verify it.
Her gaze lingered on the mediocre elixir, then, with a deliberate movement, she applied a single drop to her fingertip. Inhaling its aroma deeply, she savored the subtle tang with a tentative lick. Turning her attention back to Husayn, a knowing smile played on her lips. She would place a substantial order, she declared, but prompt delivery of a massive shipment to the guild was paramount. The deadline was Friday. Husayn shrugs his shoulders before letting her know that she would need to receive the goods ordered at the academy, he prefers not to be involved in any of the politics and as usual she needs to make an immediate payment as a deposit.
Departing from the adventurers'' guild, Husayn''s hands still warm from the elderly woman''s grip, arrived at his destination, a venerable institution. This wasn''t some prestigious academy, the Alchemy School served as a haven for aspiring alchemists, those whose circumstances precluded access to more elite establishments. It was a sanctuary for the talented and determined, a place where financial limitations did not stifle potential. Financial hardship has crippled the school''s research capabilities, forcing students into a bleak cycle of repetitive, substandard potion brewing to generate meager income. The institution, once a center of learning, has tragically devolved into a mere commercial enterprise, its academic integrity sacrificed at the altar of economic necessity.
Husayn¡¯s quest led him to the hallowed halls of the academy, seeking the shadowy figure who once held the coveted title of school alchemist. This individual, a pivotal ally during his gaming exploits, had been instrumental in his triumph. A deluge of potent strength-enhancing elixirs, strategically amassed before the climactic showdown with the demonic sovereign, secured Husayn a swift and effortless victory. Yet, this triumph was tinged with a profound melancholy: the alchemist, tragically consumed by avarice, likely a victim of the institution''s corrosive influence, had prioritized profit over principle.
Upon entering the hallowed halls of the alchemic academy, Husayn was assaulted by a cacophony of commerce. Instead of scholarly quiet, a bustling bazaar had erupted, each student transforming their chambers into vibrant, clamorous stalls, aggressively hawking their wares to the throng of curious onlookers.
Profit margins are razor-thin, with pricing mirroring the mere cost of raw materials. The compensation for skilled artistry and tireless labor is virtually nonexistent. A diverse cohort, spanning the years from adolescence to a venerable elderly age, comprises this student body. Remarkably, these artisans thoughtfully brand their creations, ensuring enduring recognition for their unique contributions within the marketplace.
After a grueling three-hour search, Husayn located a potential match for the person''s description. A young woman, cloaked in a tattered, soot-stained hoodie. She lay in a profound slumber, her head resting wearily on a table, a picture of exhausted peace. The fortunate seclusion of her room, far from the bustling throng, had preserved her meager possessions from pilfering hands.
Gently, Husayn touched the young woman''s shoulder, his touch a tentative plea to rouse her from her slumber. "Miss," he whispered, his voice laced with concern, "Hello?"
Awakening, the maiden''s gaze drifted upward, meeting Husayn''s. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips as her eyes darted to the meticulously crafted elixir simmering on the table. With trembling fingers, she painstakingly tallied the potent draught, a sigh of profound relief finally escaping her as she turned back to Husayn, her apprehension visibly easing.
"Intrigued by my humble offerings? These potent, low-quality potions, only for fifty gold a piece await your discerning gaze." Her slender finger gestured towards the moss-covered wooden plate, a silent testament to the antiquity, and perhaps, the dubious nature of its contents. Gripping a vial of dubious concoction, Husayn consulted his central market appraisal. A gasp escaped his lips¡ªone hundred fifty gold pieces, the assessment cruelly declared. Without a moment''s pause, he palmed fifty gold to the young woman, a deceptive flourish masking his true intent. Mirroring his guild master''s technique, he delicately sampled the liquid, a minute droplet tasted on his tongue, a silent judgment forming. Her gaze, unwavering and intense, remained fixed upon the young man. A nervous tremor ran through her, manifested in the subtle, repetitive friction of her palm against her hand.
Chapter 3
A grin illuminated Husayn''s face as he addressed the young woman. "Magnificent! Is this your entire inventory? I''m eager to acquire your complete stock."
Husayn''s declaration left the maiden speechless, utterly bewildered. Her gaze, riveted on him, lingered, seeking confirmation. His solemn nod triggered an immediate, frantic response. She darted back into her chamber, a whirlwind of motion, retrieving one ornate wooden coffer after another. Each time she emerged, her eyes sought his approval, each time, he offered a silent, confirming gesture. He strove to maintain a fa?ade of impassivity, yet the growing mountain of potion filled boxes, a testament to her zealous obedience brought an involuntary, tender smile to his lips.
After a brief interval, the young woman, her breath ragged, delivered to Husayn the grim tally of the low-quality potions and their total price. Seeking a solution for the low-quality potion''s conveyance, Husayn inquired of the young woman whether any nearby establishment offered such a service. With a decisive bob of her head, the youthful female bolted from the room, her departure immediate and resolute.
"Sara," Husayn breathed, his gaze lingering on the nameplate, confirming the identity of the academy''s sole, notoriously avaricious alchemist. Approaching the rough-hewn wooden crates, he meticulously examined each vial of low-quality potion, his proximity allowing his newly discovered skill to assess their worth. A potent ability, unearthed during his exploration, enabled him to not only appraise the potions but also to precisely calculate their resale value via his "Central Market" skill is a lucrative prospect indeed.
Shortly thereafter, Sara, known as the academy''s, notoriously avaricious alchemist, of course only to Husayn, returned in a carriage. The coachman, eyeing the eight hefty crates with a practiced appraisal, exchanged a curt greeting with Husayn. Confirming the consignment''s completeness, the coachman, a man whose weathered face spoke of countless journeys, effortlessly hefted one crate onto his broad shoulders. A single, knowing nod sealed the transaction, the job was his. With practiced efficiency, he loaded the remaining containers into his conveyance.
Husayn, his gaze lingering on Sara''s sparsely furnished quarters, made a decisive announcement. "Sara," he began, a glint in his eye, "with your prodigious talent for concocting potent elixirs, I propose a lucrative proposition. The academy, currently lacking alchemical expertise, desperately needs your skills. Are you willing to accept a position as our resident alchemist?" The implication of a substantially increased income hung heavy in the air, a tempting lure for Sara''s well-known avarice.
Sara, sat tongue-tied, her restless fingers betraying a turmoil of emotions.
Husayn''s smile was a beacon of relief as he confirmed, "Naturally, your residence will henceforth be confined to the academy grounds, further visits here are unnecessary."
Sara sharply inquired whether the provision of components and formulas for diverse concoctions was forthcoming. Sara made a request so uncharacteristic that it caused Husayn''s eyes to dilate. He hadn''t envisioned the Sara he knew from the game, the same Sara who, in the virtual world, had demonstrated an insatiable appetite for luxury and wealth, soliciting such modest assistance. A thoughtful nod signified Husayn''s agreement. He pledged to furnish Sara with every ingredient and formula accessible within the academy''s extensive resources. In return, he only asked for the potions the academy urgently needed for its students. A simple exchange for a remarkably unassuming alchemist.
Husayn suspected a profound shift in Sara''s demeanor, a metamorphosis that hinted at some unseen, perhaps traumatic, event. This timid alchemist, whose heart burned with a fervent passion for potion-crafting, had inexplicably transformed. Had Sara confined her altered personality to the confines of the game, the academy would have reaped significant benefits, and she would have avoided alienating the students requesting for aid.
Sara possessed only three worn cloaks. Her meager finances, dedicated entirely to procuring alchemical ingredients, left her with nothing else. Husayn, moved by her plight, purchased an assortment of serviceable garments from a nearby apparel store. The shopkeeper, however, wary of Sara''s unkempt appearance, refused to allow her to try anything on. Instead, relying solely on measurements, Husayn selected simple, modest clothes as a provisional solution. Upon their arrival at the Academy, Husayn immediately guided the grateful Sara to the lavatory, where she could at last cleanse herself before donning her new acquisitions.
Sara refrained from expressing her judicial opinions, her heart instead leaping with unrestrained glee at the sight of her new laboratory overflowing with an extravagant array of ingredients and concoctions. Husayn, quite astonished by the dean''s extraordinary generosity, had anticipated a far more arduous process, picturing himself humbly requesting each component upon his arrival. A heavy sigh escaped Husayn''s lips as he observed Sara''s uncharacteristic cheerfulness, her new attire lay untouched, discarded in favor of her familiar, well-worn cloak. Lost in a whirlwind of ecstatic tears, Sara meticulously examined each ingredient, the dean''s bountiful provision triggering an overwhelming wave of joyful gratitude.
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Sara watched as Husayn dismissed her with a careless shrug. He disappeared into the pristine two-story concrete edifice, its immaculate state a stark contrast to his expectations. The building''s spotless condition filled him with incredulity, he mused, half-jokingly, on whether the dean possessed some magical secret, a perpetual enchantment of cleanliness. A chuckle escaped his lips as he formulated a plan, a cleaning staff would maintain the building''s impeccable order and various bodyguards against the unpredictable dangers that threatened both him and Sara.
~
Seven days had elapsed since Husayn''s arrival in this world. A week ago, he''d materialized, and now, with a bright smile and a cheerful wave, he bid farewell to the adventurers'' supply team, their order of moderately potent potions completed. Meanwhile, Sara, a shy but fiercely dedicated alchemist, diligently continued her potion-crafting, the formulas Husayn had bequeathed her proving invaluable. To bolster his fledgling enterprise, Husayn had engaged three slave men as assistants, a decision born of necessity but tinged with a complexity he preferred to ignore.
Husayn''s presence at the academy had brought about significant changes. On this particular day, a student arrived at Husayn''s store, bearing a letter from Corvus Grant, the esteemed dean of the academy. The student, with a respectful bow, presented the letter to Husayn, who accepted it with a gracious nod. Opening the letter, Husayn''s eyes skimmed the contents, his expression growing pensive. The dean requested a list of potions that would be required for an upcoming outdoor activity, scheduled to take place in two weeks'' time.
| An annual, open-air event is planned for the third playing field. Your crucial support is required. I need you to supply the necessary emergency potions. |
The activity, a grand-scale endeavor, would involve a significant number of students and staff, and the dean wished to ensure their safety and well-being with an ample supply of healing potions.
Husayn, his face impassive, sighed inwardly. It wasn''t the list of potions that concerned him, but rather, a foreboding sense of dread that something terrible would occur during this event. In the game world, there had been no skilled alchemist to provide the academy with the necessary potions, resulting in numerous critical injuries and a devastatingly high casualty count. Now, with Husayn''s newfound ability to appraise and procure potions, he knew that the outcome could be vastly different. Aware of the potential consequences, Husayn promptly began compiling a comprehensive list of potions, his mind working swiftly to ensure the academy''s needs were met.
Utilizing his ''Central Market'' skill, Husayn efficiently procured an abundance of ingredients, ensuring that Sara had more than enough resources to craft the requested potions. With his vast funds, he was unconcerned about the time constraint, confident that he could purchase any additional potions if needed. The following day, Husayn embarked on a tour of the academy, greeting each merchant with warmth and generosity. He presented them with a selection of fine potions, earning their gratitude and respect. This gesture not only fostered goodwill but also served as a subtle demonstration of his influence and resources. As the days progressed, Sara diligently worked through the list of potions, her passion for alchemy reignited by the abundance of ingredients and the trust placed in her by Husayn and the academy. The once shy and reclusive alchemist emerged from her shell, her dedication and skill earning her a newfound respect from Husayn.
"It''s time." Husayn''s voice held a mixture of determination and apprehension as he addressed the three male slaves. "Help me to carry all of these potions to the dean." The slaves sprang into action, carefully gathering the meticulously crafted potions that would ensure the safety of the academy''s students and staff during the upcoming outdoor activity.
As they prepared to depart, Husayn''s gaze lifted towards the sky, his expression a mixture of hope and trepidation. He knew of the potential dangers that lay ahead, dangers that no one else seemed to be aware of. In the game world, this event had resulted in countless injuries and a tragic loss of life. Now, in this new reality, he was powerless to prevent the event from unfolding, for no one would believe his warnings. Even if they did, they might suspect him of orchestrating the calamity.
The weight of this knowledge bore heavily upon him, yet he maintained his composure. With a nod, he signaled for the slaves to follow, and together, they made their way towards the third playing field, their arms laden with the life-saving potions that Husayn hoped would make a difference.
It had been a busy week for Husayn, and now, as he stood on the outskirts of the outdoor training grounds, he felt a sense of apprehension. The hat shaded his face, providing a measure of anonymity as he surveyed the sea of students gathered before him. Among them, he recognized familiar faces from the game, and he found himself hoping that their fate would remain unchanged. It was crucial that they all survived. The future depended on it. Husayn wasted no time, directing his slaves to place the potions with the academy supply team before reporting to the nearest professor.
As he turned to leave, he sensed a pair of eyes on him and spotted Cecilia, her gaze fixed upon him. Unsettled by her stare, Husayn pulled his hat lower and swiftly walked away from the field. Back at his store, Husayn''s mind raced as he considered the implications of Cecilia''s stare. Had she recognized him? And if so, what did she intend to do about it? He knew that his presence here, his knowledge of future events, could be seen as a threat by some. Perhaps it was time to lie low for a while, he didn''t want his early existence to affect the relationship between the main character and his party.