NOVEL NEXT Chapter 26: Chapter 26
Leylin strode through the market, his black robes swaying as he navigated the crowded underground paths. After selling his stock of runes, his next destination was clear—Gandor's Grocery Shop.
Among wandering acolytes and rogue Magi, this shop had a unique reputation. It was not the most organized nor the most prosperous, but it held something more valuable than rare ingredients or artifacts—information.
"If one seeks to unravel the secrets of the Poolfield Kingdom, Gandor's Grocery is the best place to visit," Leylin recalled the words of a trader he met earlier.
The only downside? The owner was said to be a peculiar man, eccentric to the point of absurdity.
As Leylin pushed open the door, a loud creak echoed through the dimly lit shop. The interior was a chaotic mess—shelves stacked haphazardly, various scrolls and potions scattered across the room, and dust settling into every crevice.
Yet, one detail stood out to Leylin—despite the disorder, everything he recognized seemed genuine. No counterfeits, no imitations.
"Who?"
A voice rasped from behind the wooden counter. From the shadows, a frail old man emerged. His skin clung to his bones, making him look more dead than alive. His sunken eyes gleamed with a strange light as he stared at Leylin.
"I wish to gather the latest intelligence regarding the Poolfield Kingdom."
The half-dead geezer licked his cracked lips before speaking, though his lips did not move. "Same old rules. Only after you buy something from my shop will I give you the information."
Leylin had been warned about this ridiculous condition. He reached toward a random item, but the old man suddenly snickered.
"No can do. I will be the one to choose for you."
Leylin's fingers froze mid-air. His gaze darkened as he retracted his hand. He studied the old man with cold, calculating eyes before nodding slightly.
"Be my guest."
The half-dead geezer cackled before turning his back to rummage through the shelves. His bony hands sifted through the chaotic stacks, pulling at half-rotten scrolls and broken trinkets. The old wooden shelf creaked loudly, looking ready to collapse.
Finally, the geezer let out a triumphant grunt and turned back. In his hand was a black-colored scroll, its edges frayed as if gnawed by mice.
"This," he proclaimed with a dramatic flourish, "is a fragment of the great Magus Serholm's spell. A once-in-a-lifetime treasure! Only 1,000 magic crystals and it's yours!"
Leylin's expression remained indifferent as he accepted the scroll. His eyes traced the ancient symbols, his mind working rapidly.
The handwriting style… the language structure…
His fingers tightened around the scroll.
"Interesting," he muttered. This is a magical artifact related text, to completely understand it's content he needs to decipher it.
Though the old man was trying to deceive him, but he had made a crucial mistake. He also didn't knew the real worth of this article.
Leylin's time under Dorotte had provided him access to countless ancient texts and cryptic spell models as well as some artifact blueprint, although he mastered none of them since Dorotte won't teach him for free, but his knowledge is enough to recognize many writings especially on the topic of magic artifacts and rune crafting, since both were interrelated.
Even though the script on this scroll was foreign to many, Leylin recognized several markings.
He scrutinized the scroll for a long moment before raising his gaze to the old man.
"This is not the work of the Great Magus Serholm," he said, his voice cold. "This is from the Lowian's Teachings—a completely different source."
The old man's expression froze for an instant before shifting into a fake look of confusion.
"How can this be?" he wheezed. "No, no, this is definitely from Serholm's era—perhaps even part of his inheritance!"
Leylin sneered.
"Lowian's Teachings were written in an advanced-coded language, reserved only for specific scholars of that time. More importantly, this handwriting belongs to Sir Rookmanst, a Rank 2 Magus who followed the Edelman school of alchemy. His specialty was dark curse items and energy based artifacts, not combat magic."
The geezer's face twitched, but Leylin continued.
"Furthermore, this fragment is incomplete. It seems this work was written before his advancement to an Official Magus. A single mistake in deciphering the code could result in self-inflicted curses. Do you take me for a fool?"
Leylin's piercing gaze bore into the old man. The silence between them stretched before the geezer suddenly let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Hahaha! Today's weather isn't bad!"
He rubbed the back of his head, clearly unwilling to admit his deception. But faced with Leylin's unwavering scrutiny, he finally caved.
"Fine, fine! I never expected to meet such an erudite scholar!" He spread his arms dramatically. "You may choose your own item."
Leylin, however, waved his hand.
"I don't need an item. Just the information."
He tossed ten middle-grade magic crystals onto the counter, keeping hold of the derelict page.
The old man's expression twitched, but he greedily swept the magic crystals into his palm. Then, to Leylin's surprise—he ate them.
The crystals crunched in his mouth like brittle candy, their energy visibly absorbed into his frail body.
Leylin's eyes narrowed.
"I require a lot of energy," the geezer muttered. "If you had given me 1,000 magic crystals, I would've completed my physical body's restructuring…"
Leylin ignored the nonsense. His tone turned sharp.
"Tell me about Abyssal Bone Forest Academy."
At those words, the old man's gaze sharpened.
"Abyssal Bone Forest Academy… Hmm? Are you an acolyte there?"
Leylin remained silent. His presence alone made it clear who held control of this conversation.
The old man sighed. "Alright. No more questions from me."
He leaned back and spoke in a low voice, his words carrying a heavy weight.
"The situation is bad. Very bad." He went on to explain.
Abyssal Bone Forest Academy was currently at war. Their opponents? Sage Gotham's Hut and Whitewoods Castle.
Both factions were equal in power to the academy. But together, they had pushed Abyssal Bone Forest Academy into a desperate defensive position.
"The academy is holding out with its defense spell formation, but it's only a matter of time before they falter."
The geezer's voice dropped further, "And here's the real problem—many wandering Magi are starting to take sides. Some have already joined the enemy factions. The longer this drags on, the harder it will be for Abyssal Bone Forest Academy to recover."
Leylin absorbed this information in silence.
After half a day of discussion, he finally left the shop. His face was calm, but his mind was racing.
"So, it's worse than I expected."
This war was no trivial skirmish. If Abyssal Bone Forest Academy fell, Leylin's status as an acolyte there would mean he was an enemy of the victors.
He exhaled slowly.
"I may have to stay out here longer than I expected."