The barn door shut behind us.

"There was a rumor," Vil said. "A so-called terrorist group was chased out of the same city our rebel friends went to."

"Is that so."

"It was apparently a big deal," Vil said. "I suspect our friends were sold out by their northern allies. There was a small battle. Dozens killed."

I glanced over at him. There was the smallest hint of worry in his eyes, nothing visible, but something I could detect. I felt... bad for him. He was worried about his crush.

"If anyone died, it would be the fighting-aged men," I said. "Not any of the support staff."

"I suppose so, Redrim."

We stood there in silence for a moment. The breeze came and rustled the canopy of leaves above us, shaking the branches and scattering sunlight and the shadows of leaves across the ground.

I turned and creaked open the barn door to check on Jessie again. She was still in her spot, snoring loudly. "I'm going to see what's for sale. Join me if you like."

Vil took a deep breath. "I'll walk with you."

And we walked. I hadn't seen much of the town when we drove in, but I was surprised by how tacky the place was. The town seemed mostly restricted to the main road--the only road, apparently--with the oak-wood buildings huddled and pushed together, almost fighting for space. There were huge, colorful signs on just about any surface that would fit. Advertising, I thought. As we walked along the sidewalk, I read a few.

Lensa's Elvish Travel Gear

Faunalyn Animal Feed and Elvish Pet Store

Beldroth Home Improvement and Elvish Tools

Varel Company Elf Smithing

There was a pattern that was obvious here. Elvish this or that, almost like it was a rule. We passed by a tent that was selling Elvish snacks on Elvish sticks. Another vendor, set up right on his own front yard, thrust elvish pamphlets in our faces as he barked out his elvish sales speech. He was a travel guide.

We continued on.

"What's with this place?" I asked. "It's like a, uh--" I stammered.

"A tourist town," Vil answered.

I clicked my fingers. "That's it."

"They're elves, Redrim," he said. "They don't have their own land, as this is technically within Eurusian borders, but as an autonomous zone. They govern themselves, forced to stay within these bounds. They can't farm here. The land is poor, and they refuse to cut trees that haven't fallen by nature."

We passed by the third or fourth elvish souvenir shop.

Vil continued. "Now they live off their own gimmick. It's what brings in travelers, tourists, and adventurers."

I paused to look at some elvish clothes. "Is this why you wanted to come here? To tour it?"

"No," he said. "It was the safest place to spend a night."

The vendor sold shirts with elvish designs and elvish prices. I wasn't interested, and the little elf woman behind the counter tried her best to hit me with puppy dog eyes and fake smiles.

We walked away.

Hmmm-click-click

+20 Charisma Potions, Male

+1 Burlap Sack

I knew we had a little bit of money from that cathedral bookkeeping quest, and Vil had some leftover from trading in the city, but I knew it wouldn't hurt to make some side cash. Besides, even if the Elves had fallen from their great, magical kingdom and into this consumerist jerk-off fest, they still might have enchanted goods for sale. Like the ice spear that the guard had. I still hadn't recycled an enchanted weapon, but if enchanted machinery gave me abilities, then what would weapons do? I just had to know.

We stepped over to the elvish potion seller. Basically, it was another tent in someone's front yard, a folding table, and several egg-cartons filled with a mixed display of potions. The older elvish guy smiled at me behind the counter.

I saw the price of his potions, then offered him my own for a wholesale discount: 1000g for the lot--a steal. He narrowed his eyes at the bag, whispered a spell to himself, then shook his head.

"800?"

He paused, thought about it, then nodded.

Money exchanged hands, the clattering, clinking sack passed from one side to the other, and we walked away again.

I gave Vil half. "Get some food," I said. "Some real fancy elvish shit. I wanna keep shopping."

He smiled. "Sure."

We split up, and I started off to shop around. The first thing I needed to check was their enchanted goods. All I needed to do to find the place was to look for the sign in the sea of signs and--there, a huge concrete building not far from me.

I walked in, the bells jingled, the door clicked shut behind me. The first thing that hit me was the smell of burning coal and the clanging of hammers against steel. Blacksmith sounds.

It was busy here. Other tourists were milling about, looking down in the glass displays of weapons and armor, others reading magazines filled with pictures of mythical swords. I walked over to the counter and took a price sheet. It was covered in a thin transparent film, almost like a wrapper, and the sheet inside seemed brand new.

It showed a long list of typical weapon-types, melee and ranged, but no guns for some reason. I guess elves never liked guns. There was another list of armor types, giving a sort of rough cost calculation depending on the size and material of the armor piece. Interesting.

But I didn't need armor, and I didn't need weapons. I came here for the enchantments.

Elemental:

Fire 300g

Ice 300g

Water 500g

Lightning 700g

Status Effect:

Slow, Level 10: 100g

Slow, Level 50: 500g

Paralyze 20 1000g

Confusion 20 1000g

Petrification 20 1000g

Poison 20 500g

Provoke 50 500g

Silence 30 500g

These prices were intense. Some of the enchantments would be useful, that is, if I even could enchant things. I thought to ask the professional young elf salesman behind the counter, but he was already helping a few tourists with something. Even then, what would I say? "Sir, I'm a trash can, can I learn to enchant things, too?" That would just be weird.

Instead, I asked Cassandra.

"Analyzing," she said. "Confirmed. Enchanting requires the use of mana. Currently, you have a limit of 1000 mana, and there is yet no option to raise this limit, nor is there an option within my database."

I sighed sadly to myself. Was there no way I could enchant things? Wait, no. I made poison arrows before, didn't I? How did I do that? Potions! Of course! I could just use potions are part of a recipe to mimic an enchantment spell.

I tossed the price sheet and headed over to the potion seller, but I stopped when I found an even better one, a place called Elvish Potion Depot.

I hurried across the street, down the sidewalk, and stepped into a building that wasn't built but rather grown. Trees were twined together, forcefully bent and adjusted during their lifecycles to create a sort of ground-level treehouse.

There was no door. I just walked in and found a sweet old elf lady manning the counter, which was odd. Elves were practically immortal, so this woman might've been born thousands of years ago, judging by her grandma-like appearance.

"Oh, yes, hello," she said. "Come in, come in. Please browse our wares."

She was so cute and sweet. I loved elves, to be honest. If you had seen a picture of a normal elf, you would think they were tall. Long legs, slender frame, narrow shoulders. But in person, they were actually quite short. None above 5 feet or 150 cm.

"Hello, young lady," I said. "Do you have a list of your stock?"

She bashfully waved away the compliment. "Oh, you kids. Flattery won't help you barter, you know." She handed a half-torn sheet of parchment. It seemed about as old as she was. So, like, really fuckin' old.

Potions:

Battle Potions: 50g Base + 10g per 10 levels

Health

Mana

Health Regen

Mana Regen

Energy

Strength

Intelligence

Endurance

Battle Potions, Special: 100g Base + 50g per 10 levels

Shield

Manashield

Nullify

Health Drain

Mana Drain

Bottled Elemental Magic

Status Potions: 50g Base + 50g per 10 levels

Poison

Sleep

Anger

Enrage

Calm

Freeze

Confusion

Silence

Paralyze

Blind

Party Potions: 50g each

Confetti Blast

Banshee Wail

Stink Bomb

Glamour

Sparkle

Beast Lure

Now, this was exciting. Not only were the prices a bit more reasonable, but she also had some weird shit here, too.

First thing’s first. I was a man on a mission, a serious mission, and I had my priorities in order. I needed to buy the most important ones I could afford.

-300g

+1 Confetti Blast Potion

+1 Banshee Wail Potion

+1 Stink Bomb

+1 Glamour Potion

+1 Sparkle Potion

+1 Beast Lure Potion

Perfect! I had about 350 gold leftover. I really, really wanted everything she had to offer, even just for the recipe, but I knew I didn't have the cash.

-350g

+1 Nullify Potion

+1 Manashield Potion

+1 Freeze Potion

+1 Calm Potion

+1 Blind Potion

"Excuse me, ma'am," I said. "Would you be interested in a trade?"

She counted the money and shook her head. "Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. It's our policy to not trade for alchemical ingredients."

Damn. "Thank you," I said.

I would just need to come back later. Maybe sell some ingots to that blacksmith or something. I left the store and recycled my new goods.

Hmmmm.

+272 Blood Element

+299 Fire Element

+163 Earth Element

+1634 Water Element

+354 Air Element

+13,613 XP

New recipes unlocked.

Feeling good about my lifestyle choices, I headed back over to the blacksmith.

"Excuse me," a woman's voice said.

I paused and looked, and my trash can blood ran cold.

It was an elf woman adorned in a pristine white robe. Her eyes were closed shut. She was blind. Gold jewelry lined her neck and wrists, and when she walked to me, she seemed to glide across the yard.

"The color of your soul," she said. "It carries an echo. A familiar one."

I stepped back. I needed to run. Fast.

Of all people I could've met in this nowhere town, I had to see her again.

Laya, the tiny elf girl of my former harem, came from the Elvish Kingdom. Or rather, I took her from there.

This woman was her mother.