Capítulo 219: The caravan travel (part 3)

"You know your stuff, lad! Say, aren't you actually an heir of some rival merchant company by any chance?"

After dealing with the stock and shaking it on Norn, keeping the perishable parts in Pocket Storage until the next settlement, Severyn exclaimed while parting with a sum of money outside of his initial expectations.

"No, but my family had connections to a big company in the Capital of Dimondium Kingdom, and one of their merchants taught me about market prices and practices."

"Hooohooo~!"

Norn shook his head and revealed, making Severyn let out a gasp of amazement.

"By any chance, do you have someone dealing with weapons? I made a few crude ones with the monster materials, and I believe that would be outside your expertise?"

"..."

As he was about to leave Severyn's tent, the platinum-haired man asked the merchant, causing the man to lean back with a concerned expression.

"Of course, if I did a terrible job, it would make more sense to attempt to salvage the materials and sell them to you, but I wish to have them looked at beforehand."

Expecting the reaction to be caused by the lack of faith in his craft, Norn added hurriedly in a reassuring voice.

"...sure… In that case, you want to see Wits. I'll talk to him, although I can't promise you get to sell anything to him today. The old man's grumpy before bed."

In the end, Severyn shrugged his shoulders and said, leading Norn outside.

The old man Wits was, in fact, grumpy about being bothered right as he was preparing to go to sleep.

He did, though, agree to have a look at the platinum-haired man's handmade weapons, not even trying to hide his expectations of said weapons being a waste of materials.

"One Bone Knife. Here."

Norn called out an item from the Pocket Storage and offered it to a gray-haired man with a face so wrinkly that it resembled a dried plum.

"Hmph! Let's see that piece of…"

Wits scoffed and grumbled, dismissively grabbing the bone-white weapon with a handle tied with a dry monster tendon…

"...oh…"

…and the moment he held the knife, his expression changed drastically from one of annoyance to one of shock.

"...oho… hoo…?"

For a moment, it seemed that the old man exchanged his tongue for an owl's because he continued hooting as he weighed the weapon in his hand, balanced it on his finger, and raised it close to his eyes, carefully examining the line of the blade.

"Boy, you have an artisan-type crafting ability?"

"!"

Wits finally lowered the knife and asked in a completely different tone than a few moments earlier.

"Can't say I do. Crafting was more of a pastime in between getting tutored. My father didn't see a reason for me to bother with it since he could hire artisans with royal-type crafting abilities to create weapons."

The platinum-haired man lowered his head almost apologetically.

'Your father is a strange man. This is a damn good knife! Looks aside, as a weapon, it is at least a medium-quality one! Selling more affordable stuff can earn a pretty penny, too! Did you make more? I'll buy them in bulk!"

"R-really? Thank you~!"

Norn fidgeted, for the first time showing a bit of a reaction to being praised by anyone from the caravan.

"..."

Severyn, watching from the side, furrowed his brows at the interaction, appearing to be quite troubled about something. After seemingly making up his mind, he stepped away from Wits's tent and silently beckoned one of the bodyguards, giving him some instructions in a hushed voice, careful not to get Norn's attention.

After the bodyguard nodded and left, Severyn returned to his observation spot…

"...be fed mana? Boy,' you're not going to tell me all those knives can work as mana conduits!"

Just in time to witness old man Wits shout in bewilderment.

"No, no. Of course not! But since I've used a special method of drying them, the marrow pathways aren't clogged, and the user can feed it mana to strengthen the knife. Nothing crazy, though. It can get slightly more durable, but it's not like it pushes it that much over its limits."

The platinum-haired man hurriedly shook his head and corrected the misunderstanding hastily.

"Boy, I don't know what kind of geniuses you were surrounded by, but this is amazing! I… I'm not even going to haggle with you! Name your price!"

The old merchant scoffed, shaking his head with a bright smile while spreading his arms over a dozen Bone Knives laid on the ground under the light of a mana lamp.

"Within reason, that is. Don't get ahead of yourself, those still are Middle grade weapons."

However, the next moment, Wits slouched and added, going back to his grumpy self.

"Hey, hey. Norn, you wouldn't have more of those, would you? I happen to be looking for a replacement for one or two of my throwing knives."

"You wouldn't have to if you weren't an idiot trying to hunt Clay-fur Rabbit with a throwing knife!"

Unexpectedly, a pair of passing bodyguards noticed the weapons and one of them leaned down, resting his weight on the unexpecting platinum-haired man and asked, while the other one laughed.

"Now, hold on a second! I'm the caravan weapon dealer!"

"And I always preferred to directly support the artisans without any middlemen!"

Old man Wits perked up and called out angrily, and the bodyguard by Norn's side snickered cheekily.

After finishing the transaction, Norn was whisked away by the two bodyguards, given food, and then continued the conversation until it was high time to sleep. Even then, he was offered a spot by their campfire, which the platinum-haired man eagerly accepted.

He enjoyed the relaxing rest without the need to stay on guard through the whole night.

"He actually just went to sleep."

The guard who bought a few Bone Knives from Norn sat up, stopping pretending to be a sleep and pointed out while breathing out in relief.

"Hold your goats. He might be trying to lay low for a couple of nights and then strike when we least expect it."

His comrade stopped clenching his sword so close to his body and rebutted him.

"Lady boss did say she had a good feeling about him, though. Maybe he really met us by coincidence and isn't a bandit or some thief?"

"Too many coincidences, in my opinion. Everything about him feels conflicting. He appears to overshare a lot about himself but still keeps the most important facts to himself. Of course, I don't believe half of what he said. I'd say the chance he's plotting something is pretty high."

The two bodyguards exchanged opinions before looking back at the innocently sleeping platinum-haired man.