The study was exactly what I expected from a noble's office— walls lined with bookshelves, a massive wooden desk, and a roaring fireplace.Lord Roland himself sat behind the desk. He was a middle-aged man with greying hair and piercing blue eyes, dressed in elegant but slightly unkempt robes. And yes—there was a distinct odour in the air. Miss Agnes wasn't joking about the hygiene issue. I tried not to breathe too deeply. "So, you're the merchant everyone's been talking about." Lord Roland leaned forward, studying me with an unreadable expression. "Dirk, was it?"I nodded. "Yes, my Lord.""I've heard quite a bit about you. A foreign merchant selling unheard-of delicacies... water that replenishes mana... and now, an adventurer who wields powerful fire magic?"I stiffened slightly. So he already knew."I wouldn't call myself an adventurer, my lord," I said carefully. "I'm just a simple merchant."He chuckled. "Is that so? Then explain how you single-handedly defeated seven armed bandit

The following week, I made my way to Igor's shop, feeling both excited and a little nervous. Now that Lord Roland had officially placed an order, I knew I needed to start scaling up my business. That meant better storage, transportation, and more organisation.Igor was in the middle of sharpening a sword when I walked in. The rhythmic sound of metal scraping against the whetstone filled the air.He glanced up and smirked. "What brought you here this early, Dirk? Need another sword?"I shook my head. "Not this time. I actually need some help finding a good craftsman. I need a dozen wooden boxes – something with a secure lid."Igor wiped his hands on a cloth and nodded. "I know just the guy. Old man Garret. He's been making storage crates and furniture for years. If anyone can make sturdy wooden boxes, it's him."I pulled out a rough sketch I had drawn last night and laid it on his counter. "This is what I have in mind. The size should be large enough to store my stock, and I need the l

Weeks had passed, and still—nothing.I found myself checking it more than usual, swiping my hand in the air whenever I was alone. "Guardian Screen," I'd mutter under my breath, hoping for some kind of quest. Something. Anything.But the screen would just appear, faintly glowing in that signature blue light, showing the same mystery it always had:LEVEL: ???RACE: ???POWER: ???The only thing that ever changed was my gold count—thankfully increasing with every day I sold items at the dungeon stall. My earnings had steadily grown. Between the enchanted noodles, the water bottles, the mamon, and the new experimental deodorant satchels, adventurers were practically lining up each morning before heading into the dungeon. Some even called me "The Alchemist Vendor," though I wasn't sure if it was a compliment or just because they couldn't figure out how the hell my products worked.And while the gold was great—I mean really great—deep inside, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was

Meanwhile — Elven Mainland, Magixah KingdomInside the great cathedral of the capital, the air was thick with incense and ancient magic. Light filtered through massive stained-glass windows as Saint Athena, clad in her ceremonial robes, stood beside High Priest Hector in the sacred scrying basin."The rumours are spreading faster than we anticipated," Hector said, his tone grim. "Our scouts report that the outer villages are obsessed with this mysterious merchant."Athena narrowed her eyes as she watched flickering visions in the water—bottled drinks glowing faintly with mana, sweet golden bread being passed between adventurers, and coins exchanging hands."This merchant is no ordinary man," she said. "He may not have been summoned properly, but what if... he is the hero?""That would mean the ritual wasn't a failure after all," murmured one of the elder mages standing nearby."But why hasn't he appeared before us? Why hide?" Hector asked."Fear. Confusion. "Or... perhaps he doesn't e

It was growing.Soon after, we started again; the path to Level Two of Ash Dungeon was marked by a sudden change in atmosphere. The air turned heavy with moisture, and the walls glistened with thick strands of silvery webbing. The air was laced with a musty, bitter scent.Felix held his torch higher, his face twisted in unease. "This floor reeks of spiders."I nodded grimly, my thoughts racing. I hadn't forgotten Ella's injury. The herbs she needed—bloodroot and crystal sage—were supposed to grow somewhere at this level. But the deeper we went, the more danger crawled around us.Then the sound hit.Chittering. Skittering. Scraping.Hundreds of small red eyes glinted in the dark."...Don't move," Felix whispered.Don't move? Fuck! I saw hundreds or even thousands of spiders, and he told me not to move?Too late.The wall behind us pulsed—and exploded outward.Hundreds of spiders, each the size of a small dog, poured out from cracks and tunnels like a living tide of legs and fangs. We t