The invasion of the baron was an important mission, but getting rid of the assassin bothering the army was first. After all, the deadline for the assassination was close to two months, but the longer they let an assassin running around the city, the more they put themselves and their operation in danger.

Since Thom was the only one that had sensed the aura of the perpetrator, he was the one to go downtown to search for clues. He had left his sword and his scabbard at his quarters, as well as everything that could give him away as a high-ranking soldier. At first he thought of putting the items inside his bag, but he didn't want to offer explanations to whoever entered his room while he was gone. He took only his badge with himself.

Perhaps pointless carefulness, but he wasn't willing to stop being paranoid about it.

As he walked through the streets of the crowded city of Pontya, amidst the screams of people, the rustling of the guards' armor, and the eerie sensation of never being truly alone, Thom couldn't help but sigh. He had felt this atmosphere before at the city's bars, but never had he imagined that humans could group so tightly even under the open sky.

Since most of his life had been lived in a small village, it was a cultural shock that he was willing to learn from. For instance, he had now understood how people could get pickpocketed without noticing.

He put his hands inside his empty pockets for some reason, and paid close attention to his passive aura perception. Although it would have been far more precise to use his skill, [Search Aura], he would have probably alarmed the guards and adventurers around the city's streets. The more perceptive guards on some spots of the city already flinched slightly when he passed by, after all.

After inadvertently walking for half an hour around the busy streets— having failed to find an aura that resembled that night's assassin— he managed to get to the market.

The voices of people trying to sell various sorts of items and people negotiating those prices assaulted his ears in an instant, and he was thrown into a daze. He wouldn't know where to start asking in such a place, and as the center point of the city, the large crowd that reunited in this place was far more numerous than the ones around the streets. His senses started to get obstructed, and every aura felt exactly the same. He could only click his tongue in annoyance, and near one of the stalls hoping for his body to get accustomed to the commotion.

"Oh, what a wonderful young man! With such wonderful hair you wouldn't like it to be going around so unkept, would you now?!"

"Eh?"

A hand suddenly grabbed him from the side and took hold of his long hair, which he hadn't cut in several months. He was about to push the person back before he saw it was an elderly woman with a smile on her face, who skillfully tied up his hair into a really short ponytail. He blinked in surprise, and the woman nodded in a very confident manner.

"Hm, hm! You certainly look better like this. Let those thick eyebrows pop out! And that tanned beautiful skin as well!" She said.

"Ah... I see how it is." Thom simply smiled as he touched the ponytail around his hair. It had been tied up with a small cotton band, which he felt was more than well made. "How much is it, ma'am?"

"Oh, how polite! A measly copper, my boy."

Thom pulled a silver coin from his bag, and the woman hurriedly went to her own to search for change. However, Thom quickly stopped her and handed her the coin.

"I'll take them all." He said.

"But, but of course! That reduces the change greatly, too!"

"It's fine without the change." He waved his hand. "I was looking forward to doing something nice today."

The woman's face jumped in pure joy, and she bowed slightly before handing Thom what seemed to be around forty very neat and cute cotton bands. It was noticeable that the woman had spent her good time making those. When she walked away, Thom felt good with himself, and now revitalized, he got closer to one of the stands.

Well, even if some throw rotten food at you, others may be very grateful like this. People need ways to entertain themselves after all.

With that thought in mind, he started eyeing all kinds of goods spread across several of the stalls. He had to pretend he was simply looking to buy things, after all. Even if he was waiting for that aura to cross his mind, he couldn't just give it away that easily, or he might have been spotted without even finding the man.

Then, his eyes quickly stopped when he saw something extremely rare in one of the stalls.

So far, he had been finding vegetables, fruits, dried meats, and fish. Even clothes and every-day trinkets or the like weren't sparse in these stalls. Thom didn't think anything particular of these since he had been seeing such items in markets all of his life, but as soon as his eyes landed on some red, blue, and even purple herbs, his gears all shifted.

"What in the world..."

He had heard before of coloring different plants to make them more attractive, but these herbs looked far too natural to be drenched in dye. The man behind the stall seemed to have noticed Thom's curiosity, seen how he leaned forward with a deep grin and placed his hand on the stall.

"Do you not have these from where you're from?"

"Hm?" Thom raised his head. "Ah, I'm Kuulkiam. I was just looking around. Your herbs looked nice... Ahm, useful? Interesting?"

"Tsa! What an archaic form of speaking!" The man suddenly opened his eyes in surprise as he scratched his head. "Did you learn how to speak from the Ancient Tomes?"

Thom blinked in surprise twice. Valta and the rest had never told him anything about it before, but was his Kuulkiam archaic in any way? Since he had learned how to speak it trough [Lexicon]'s power and not by studying, it took him as a surprise. Everything sounded pretty much the same to him.

"Ah... Sorry, sorry. That doesn't do much for me not being mistaken for a foreigner, now does it?"

"I could've thought you a scholar! But that's not what matters. If you're gonna buy, you could be a dark elf for what I care."

Thom nodded to show he understood the concept. He simply had to buy something and the man wouldn't make a fuss about it, correct? Since he had money to spare, that wasn't a problem.

"Then, what are these? Sorry, not familiar with the, uh, agriculture."

"Are you seriously a Kuulkiam? Well, these are just basic herbs. They're used for concocting potions, making salves, seasoning the food, and other similar things. Of course, I also have a range of prices. If you're gonna buy some good ol' Picent, that'll be 1 copper per quarter of a pound. It's only good if you want some good-tasting food, but pales in comparison to the others' uses."

Thom looked at where the man was pointing, and nodded after seeing the common-looking herb on the side of the stall.

"This here is serizal. It has many uses. Spicing the food, for example. Or if you're crafty enough, making highly flammable coatings for arrows. I've heard that some alchemists use them to make fire-resistance potions, but that's out of my realm. I only sell 'em, and these ones go for 10 coppers per quarter of a pound."

"I see. The price is ten times higher... Right?" Thom tilted his head.

"You aren't much for math, are you? Well, correct. They normally sell well, too." The man nodded with a smile and pointed to a pitch-black herb. "This one here is noar. It clears the mind. Some people burn it and breathe it in. This one's also ten coppers."

"You said before that they're used for making potions as well, no?" Thom smiled. "Are there any that are used for recovery potions? Like, red potions?"

"Ah, you're thinking about these three." The man signaled to an array of ordinary-looking herbs. "Harr herb, vien herb, and arthry herb. If you consume them alone, they will probably make you feel healthier. If you consume more than a few dozen grams... Well, you might as well write a suicidal note before that."

"I see." Thom immediately knew what he had to do. "Then, do you know how to make one of those potions?"

"Hey, hey. If I knew, do you think I'd be selling these on the market? Those potions go for at least twenty silvers each if they're low quality. I'd be rich, boy."

Thom gulped after hearing the number. He had carelessly consumed those potions before, so he didn't know they could be more valuable than several months of pay for the average soldier.

"Alright. These are at least some of the ingredients, so I'll take them. How much have you got?"

"Around three pounds of each. The quarter-pound goes for 20 coppers."

"Aha... So, ehm. Quarter pound is... If you put four of them together you get a pound. So... Twenty times four... No, wait. Four times twenty. That's eighty, no? And then that, but, multiplied by nine."

The man behind the stall was incredibly amused as he saw the fancy-speaking man have trouble with such simple calculations, so he decided to let him figure it out himself.

"So... Wouldn't that be the same as eight times nine, and then that times ten? Wait, shit, how much is eight times nine? It's not as simple as adding a cero. Eight, sixteen, twenty-four..."

Thom started to add one number on the other, until he finally got the answer.

"Aha. Seventy-two. Times ten, so seven hundred and twenty?"

"Correct." The shop tender clapped slowly as if congratulating him, but mocked him in a way. Thom simply sneered at his jeer, he knew there wasn't any ill intent in it.

"So, if I pay you in silvers, would that be 7 silvers? Hmm. And twenty coppers."

「Learning successful. The passive skill [Mathematician] has been acquired. Calculations of arithmetic, algebraic, and geometrical nature have been added to the user's capabilities.」

"Wah..." Thom's eyes slowly turned glazed and distant as a myriad of formulas, numbers, and shapes of all kinds entered his brain nonstop. He felt like every little detail and conjunction, every number and every shape made sense. The countless different forms in which he could have solved the problem from before rushed inside his head, and then, after hearing the man's voice, he came back to reality.

"See? There's no way you could pay that much upfront, kid." The man shrugged. "But I can still sell you a quarter pound of each. Or an octave if you—"

Thump

The man stopped his tongue as soon as he saw Thom gingerly placing eight silvers on the stall, and stuffing the herbs in his pockets.

"Huh. Thank you for your patronage." The man formed a refreshing smile, one that Thom returned. "Not many people got that much money around here. You've made my month much easier, pal."

Thom nodded, and was about to go away before he turned around again.

"I'm sorry, is there a store where I can buy potions in here?"

"Of course. Head to the silver district. Things are a tad more expensive but I don't think you'll have a problem. Safe travels."

Thom asked around the city how to get to the silver district, and eventually made himself an idea of where it was. He was attentive to his senses all the way until he reached said part of the city, but failed to find any aura that resembled the assassin.

This is proving really difficult. Could it be he's not in this city, after all? I mean, I haven't searched nearly enough, but that could also be a probability.

He suddenly arrived at a neatly built and organized district, and he was guided by the guards and locals to the closest potion store.

As soon as he entered the building, the smell of several ingredients combined made his nose retract in disgust. The shelves upon shelves by his sides were filled to the brim with materials, potions, and liquids of a dubious origin. Eyes, severed fingers, eggs, herbs, and such items were the ones he saw the most amongst the rest. When he finally neared the counter, he was met with a man dressed in black robes, and behind him, a woman in the same clothes reading a book.

"New face. Who is it?" The man said with a rather noticeable lack of interest.

"I'm looking for... Uhm, healing potions?"

"Sure, we've got some. Are you making the payment in check or will you sign a payment paper?" The man started to grab a big black notebook from the counter, before Thom promptly stopped him with a chuckle.

"No, no. I'll pay you upfront. Don't worry about the details."

"Aha..." The man frowned. "Well, our cheapest healing potion is 20 silvers. It can usually cure most flesh wounds with the efficiency of a first-tier spell and stop the bleeding for major wounds. They've been sitting in store for a while now, but I'd say they're in fine condition. Will you be taking one?"

"How many have you got?" Thom smiled, now with his hand inside his bag.

"Hmm..." The man sighed. "About 5. Are you a courier to a noble or something?"

"The army." Thom said, showing his badge.

"I see. That makes more sense. Sorry for mistaking you for a courier, I did not expect a lieutenant to suddenly show up in my humble store." The man bowed slightly. "I suppose your supplier must be running low on them, with all the crap happening at the north." The man crossed the potions from the list with his quill.

"That is correct. I'll be taking all of those, actually."

"I assumed as much. Dear, bring them please."

The man turned around and talked to the woman reading behind him. She closed the book, and went into the back of the store. She returned later with a small case just bigger than her hand, and placed it in front of Thom. Swallowing back his disgust by the odors surrounding him, he opened it to check the contents, and saw five thumb-sized vials resting upon a soft fabric. The youth noticed these were much paler than the one Runa had given him, and couldn't even compare to the deep crimson liquid where the seed was resting.

"If they buy all the stock we usually just give the case as a gift. That will be a gold."

Thom placed it on the table, and the man nodded with a very pleased expression. He had probably made a good profit out of that exchange. Thom bagged the

"And... Well, this may be a little embarrassing to admit, but I've been prying into being an alchemist myself. I know it is far from being a newbie's job... But could you tell me what your price is for the recipe of these potions?" Thom smiled as he subconsciously rubbed the Ring Of Honeyed Words in his hand.

"Hmph." The man rubbed his chin and twisted his mouth. "I dunno... The army isn't really a regular customer and it's not like there's many more skilled alchemists besides us in this city..." He sighed as if telling him without words that it was impossible.

"I see. Truth be told, I don't plan to make these for the army. You see, I'm currently transferred into the army of Goldblack as a diplomatic envoy from Wender's Majicracy. I found your store out of coincidence, I was simply looking for a good spot fo buy some alchemist supplies. I suppose my skin color could have given that one away."

"Hoo..." The man opened his eyes with an impressed look. "Then, surely, if I speak to you in Wender you will perfectly understand what I'm saying?"

The man asked, in a language completely different to the Kuulkiam he had been using up until now.

"Of course." Thom replied with a smile, while speaking Wender as well, relieved that the man spoke first before he had to rack his brains to find which language it was. "Now that we've understood each other, I'd also wish to buy something else."

"Heh." The man shrugged. "What an archaic Wender. You must be a time traveler of sorts. But it's fine. Still, Kuulkiam medicine is different from Wender's. It'll cost you a pretty—"

Bang

"Fuck!"

Thom placed twenty golden coins on the counter, and the man almost fell backward and hit his head. The woman also gasped as if her heart has suddenly stopped.

"I, I get it now. Royalty, is it? Shit, that's some crazy amount of money. You must be really interested in other cultures..."

"They're my passion." Thom simply smiled and retired his hand from the mess of coins he had just slammed on the table.

"Then, let me write it up real quick and I'll hand it over. I'll give you the materials as well. Twenty coins should be worth that much." The man finally broke a smirk and went to the back of the store.

About ten minutes later, Thom came out with a varied array of items. Besides the herbs, he had also obtained a litter of pig blood in a jar, a few grams of pulverized flowers, a minuscule vial of "liquid magic", and a small portion of troll fat. Besides that, he also got the recipe for the potion, and an extra recipe for a minor healing salve that did not require liquid magic.

He happily strolled down the streets of the city with a bag full of random items, daydreaming about being able to make potions for himself. Thinking back to how useful they had been every time he had consumed them, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of being able to produce them himself.

Remembering the stories back at his village of sorcerers and alchemists that never ended up being more than swindlers looking to cash in people's sorrows, he was glad that this world contained the same fantasies that his own couldn't give him.

It was then, when he was almost out of complete concentration and wasn't focusing on even his own aura, that he felt it.

His eyes turned sharp, and he immediately tossed his useless thoughts aside. He put all the power into his legs as he activated [Dash], shotting himself down a lonely alley with his feet almost hovering above the stone, preparing his hands for a devastating slam— his ears tingled from sensing that man's aura between the darkness, and just as he reached out to grab it, he heard a panicked scream.

Bang!

He slammed the man against the wall without noticing how much force he had put into the move.

"Ack! Bastard, let me go!"

"Heeek! A guard, beat it!"

He saw a group of men run for another direction as soon as he arrived, and clicked his tongue in annoyance. He activated his [Detect Aura] in an instant, and after his aura had swept all over them, he was able to memorize it.

"You... Shithead! You followed me to kill me, is that it?!"

"Not particularly." Thom smiled with a rather irritated gaze. The man was trying to bury his nails into Thom's arms as he squirmed around, kicking Thom in the legs and the stomach.

"How the fuck did you survive?! Are you a monster?!" The suspect started to talk with a dry voice as his breath was being held back by Thom's hand.

"Shut up and show me your fucking face."

Thom went for the man's hood, who desperately tried to impede it. However, Thom's physique had been amply boosted thanks to [Swordsman III] as it was, so having also obtained [Superior Strenght], it was impossible that a regular young man could stop his arm.

Swoosh

However, just as soon as he removed the cap from the man, Thom's heart faltered.

"Bournd?"

Thom's eyebrows shot upwards and his face turned extremely soft, as if he had entered a panicked state himself. There were a thousand, ten thousand possibilities. There were too many people to count in the world, and even in that same city, there were so many people that sensing their aura was hard. So why, why did it have to be Marz's and Merry's son from all people?

"Shit!"

The man escaped in the instant in which Thom's hand stopped gripping his collar, and dashed towards the opposite wall. In a demonstration of uncanny agility, he climbed his way all the top to the roof of the building in less than three seconds, and jumped towards the next rooftop.

Thom stayed in the middle of the alley feeling like his emotions had been misplaced.

"..."

He looked at his hand, which had tightly slammed the son of those two people against a wall. Then he thought of how quickly he would have sliced the young man's throat if it wasn't because he didn't carry his sword with him. The face of Merry and Marz after finding out Thom had killed their son, even if it hadn't happened, thinking about it made his heart ache immensely.

"Ha..."

He scratched the back of his neck as he lowered his head in dejection.

"We never really got along, after all."

He said to himself with a weirdly self-consoling smile.