After walking for two long hours, we arrive at Vera, the Capital city of Valeria. According to Sophia, this is the biggest and busiest city in the continent. It’s a city of medieval fantasy style, and it sure doesn't sleep. Even in the heart of night, Vera is resonating with life and activity. The cobblestone streets shimmer under the glow of the tall lamp posts, packed with people from all kinds of races: humans, beast-men, and even elves and dwarves. There is no electricity in this world, as far as I know, so I guess these lamp posts must be powered by some sort of magical stones. On the corner of the street, musicians play their tunes, their melodies wafting through the cool breeze, fusing with the distant hum of conversations and laughter.
As we weave through the crowd and reach the main market, our senses are assailed by a plethora of aromas — roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and the tang of various spices from open-air food stalls. The citizens of Vera are very much awake. Pubs spill with boisterous patrons, their laughter echoing into the night, while nearby restaurants display their finest cuisine, enticing customers with displays of juicy steaks, fragrant pies, and arrays of colorful vegetables.
However, we are not here to sightsee or sample new foods.
“As expected, they’re here,” Sophia murmurs, tugging at my sleeve.
I follow her gaze to where she's pointing. Of course, the King has already issued the wanted orders. Our faces are prominently displayed on the posters plastered on the notice board. The reward for each of us? One thousand gold coins.
Curious, I ask Sophia about the worth of the amount, and after her explanation, I do some quick calculations—essentially, how many loaves of bread or how many kilograms of meat one gold coin can purchase. It seems that the sum equates to roughly one million dollars. Yes, one million per person, so it's four millions for the four of us.
“Let’s move,” I whisper, and we leave the crowd, careful not to let anyone see our face.
So, they've certainly placed a steep bounty on our heads, and that’s the reason why we need to go to the black market as soon as possible.
As we proceed, Sophia leads me into a narrow alleyway, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of the main streets. Here, it's quieter; the lamplights are fewer and the shadows more pronounced. We stop in front of an old pub named The Whispering Hare. Then, instead of entering through the main entrance, Sophia guides me to a back door. This hefty wooden door bears no sign. She knocks three times, pauses, and then delivers two more precise knocks.
Sophia then explains. This is not an ordinary door, but an enchanted one. If I just open it as it is, I will find a room with nothing. But if I knock on it with a specific pattern like that…
The door creaks slightly open, revealing an eye, old and wrinkled, examining us intently. "Password?" a raspy voice asks.
"Basilisk's tears," Sophia whispers.
With that, the door swings fully open, inviting us inside.
But we are not there yet. We then have to go down a steep, dark staircase descending underground. After about five minutes, we reach the bottom, and the black market unfolds before us.
It’s basically a market inside a big underground space. The atmosphere is thick with tension, and lanterns cast feeble blue glows that only slightly cut through the gloom. Instead of established stalls, shady figures display their wares on rugs or mats spread out on the ground. This setup, I surmise, allows merchants to quickly pack their items and flee if necessary. Everyone here dons a mask or hood, concealing their identity. In this place, discretion is a must.
Then, as we proceed further, the distant sound of dripping water echoes through the vast underground chamber, and there's a persistent, earthy scent overlayed with the sharp tang of metal and the smoky fragrance of burning herbs. I quickly survey the various merchants. Most of them are selling vials containing various substances, while others offer weapons and books. Monster parts and a myriad of herbs are also on display.
Interestingly, I also see some signs that say “silver trade”. It strikes me as odd. Why would silver be traded in the black market? I question Sophia about it, and she reveals that in this world, silver is even way more valuable than gold. Turns out, silver has the unique property of disrupting mana flow, effectively interrupting spells. Therefore, it's crafted into weapons to counteract magic users and monsters that depend on magic. On the other hand, armor forged from silver can shield its bearer from magical assaults as well. However, silver is exceedingly rare, making it incredibly expensive. The kingdom even goes to lengths to hoard and restrict the supply of silver. As a result, the black market has become the prime venue for silver trading, offering the most competitive prices. But even then, a gram of silver still costs a hundred times its weight in gold, and among the items here, many are just mere imitations. Genuine items with more than three percent silver content are a rare find.
Knowing that, I can't help but grin. Naturally, I have silver with me—pure silver from Earth, right in my pocket.
But, of course, we didn't come here merely to trade silver. Our primary objective is located in a remote corner: an accessory shop managed by an impressively tall, muscular man with wolf ears.
After walking for two long hours, we arrive at Vera, the Capital city of Valeria. According to Sophia, this is the biggest and busiest city in the continent. It’s a city of medieval fantasy style, and it sure doesn't sleep. Even in the heart of night, Vera is resonating with life and activity. The cobblestone streets shimmer under the glow of the tall lamp posts, packed with people from all kinds of races: humans, beast-men, and even elves and dwarves. There is no electricity in this world, as far as I know, so I guess these lamp posts must be powered by some sort of magical stones. On the corner of the street, musicians play their tunes, their melodies wafting through the cool breeze, fusing with the distant hum of conversations and laughter.
As we weave through the crowd and reach the main market, our senses are assailed by a plethora of aromas — roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and the tang of various spices from open-air food stalls. The citizens of Vera are very much awake. Pubs spill with boisterous patrons, their laughter echoing into the night, while nearby restaurants display their finest cuisine, enticing customers with displays of juicy steaks, fragrant pies, and arrays of colorful vegetables.
However, we are not here to sightsee or sample new foods.
“As expected, they’re here,” Sophia murmurs, tugging at my sleeve.
I follow her gaze to where she's pointing. Of course, the King has already issued the wanted orders. Our faces are prominently displayed on the posters plastered on the notice board. The reward for each of us? One thousand gold coins.
Curious, I ask Sophia about the worth of the amount, and after her explanation, I do some quick calculations—essentially, how many loaves of bread or how many kilograms of meat one gold coin can purchase. It seems that the sum equates to roughly one million dollars. Yes, one million per person, so it's four millions for the four of us.
“Let’s move,” I whisper, and we leave the crowd, careful not to let anyone see our face.
So, they've certainly placed a steep bounty on our heads, and that’s the reason why we need to go to the black market as soon as possible.
As we proceed, Sophia leads me into a narrow alleyway, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of the main streets. Here, it's quieter; the lamplights are fewer and the shadows more pronounced. We stop in front of an old pub named The Whispering Hare. Then, instead of entering through the main entrance, Sophia guides me to a back door. This hefty wooden door bears no sign. She knocks three times, pauses, and then delivers two more precise knocks.
Sophia then explains. This is not an ordinary door, but an enchanted one. If I just open it as it is, I will find a room with nothing. But if I knock on it with a specific pattern like that…
The door creaks slightly open, revealing an eye, old and wrinkled, examining us intently. "Password?" a raspy voice asks.
"Basilisk's tears," Sophia whispers.
With that, the door swings fully open, inviting us inside.
But we are not there yet. We then have to go down a steep, dark staircase descending underground. After about five minutes, we reach the bottom, and the black market unfolds before us.
It’s basically a market inside a big underground space. The atmosphere is thick with tension, and lanterns cast feeble blue glows that only slightly cut through the gloom. Instead of established stalls, shady figures display their wares on rugs or mats spread out on the ground. This setup, I surmise, allows merchants to quickly pack their items and flee if necessary. Everyone here dons a mask or hood, concealing their identity. In this place, discretion is a must.
Then, as we proceed further, the distant sound of dripping water echoes through the vast underground chamber, and there's a persistent, earthy scent overlayed with the sharp tang of metal and the smoky fragrance of burning herbs. I quickly survey the various merchants. Most of them are selling vials containing various substances, while others offer weapons and books. Monster parts and a myriad of herbs are also on display.
Interestingly, I also see some signs that say “silver trade”. It strikes me as odd. Why would silver be traded in the black market? I question Sophia about it, and she reveals that in this world, silver is even way more valuable than gold. Turns out, silver has the unique property of disrupting mana flow, effectively interrupting spells. Therefore, it's crafted into weapons to counteract magic users and monsters that depend on magic. On the other hand, armor forged from silver can shield its bearer from magical assaults as well. However, silver is exceedingly rare, making it incredibly expensive. The kingdom even goes to lengths to hoard and restrict the supply of silver. As a result, the black market has become the prime venue for silver trading, offering the most competitive prices. But even then, a gram of silver still costs a hundred times its weight in gold, and among the items here, many are just mere imitations. Genuine items with more than three percent silver content are a rare find.
Knowing that, I can't help but grin. Naturally, I have silver with me—pure silver from Earth, right in my pocket.
But, of course, we didn't come here merely to trade silver. Our primary objective is located in a remote corner: an accessory shop managed by an impressively tall, muscular man with wolf ears.
