The morning bled in slow grey rivulets across the rooftops, the alleyways no brighter than the night before.
Slush pooled at the edges of the stone path, and the air was thick with the musty scent of rot and rusted metal.
Grey's boots, still damp from the city's unrelenting dew, moved in measured steps down the same alleyway he had walked just yesterday.
He came alone this time.
The crooked sign above the door hung askew, swinging slightly with the lazy breeze, as though waving him back into a place he wasn't sure he had ever truly left.
He pushed open the splintered door without ceremony.
Clink—thunk.
A small bell rang somewhere deep inside, dull and tired.
The shop greeted him with its same chaotic charm. weapons strewn about like forgotten relics, and shelves buckling under the weight of mismatched tomes and arcane debris.
The air smelled of dust, oil, and a faint trace of lavender—an oddly elegant undertone.
Behind the counter, the old woman sat polishing a blade that looked quite ancient. Her eyes, sunken but sharp, flicked up the moment he entered.
"...You again," she said, voice gravel-slick and laced with suspicion.
Grey stepped in without pause, letting the door swing shut behind him.
His cloak was damp with early morning dew.
Mud flecked the hem.
His eyes were unreadable—flat, almost dull, like a surface too smooth to reflect light.
"I want to buy something," he said. His voice was hollow. it sounded bored...
She study him for a couple of minute.
"Buying again, are you?" Her eyes narrowing slightly. before she asked him a question "Do you have coin this time, or are you here again just to waste my time?"
Grey reached inside his cloak.
A brief jingle, then he let the pouch fall into his palm and held it up—he didn't open it, just let the shape and weight speak for itself.
She saw the bulge of well-packed gold, the glint of aged leather, the casual confidence in how he held it.
Then, just as easily, it vanished back beneath his robe.
Her lips twitched. as she was unable to control her smile
"What are you looking for?" she asked, tone measured.
"Scrolls."
He paused.
"Rex is gone. I don't know anyone else in this village. The main market's still closed," he said, his tone unchanged. "So I'm here. And don't worry about payment—I'll pay double."
His voice, though flat and bored, carried an uncanny sweetness. A tone too clean, too sincere. As if honesty was etched into every syllable.
She studied him again. there was nothing to read from that blank face.
And it made her a little uneasy.
She didn't trust him.
But he brought her profit. He even had gold with him and is ready to pay double.
The only problem was... those eyes.
Those strange, golden eyes. She had a feeling of who he was and it made her quite wary... He wasn't someone she wanted to deal with.
'Just make this the last time' she told herself.
Business hadn't been good this past year.
The trade was thinning, and she was desperate.
She couldn't afford to let a paying customer walk away.
Besides, he was mana less. He couldn't harm her, even if he wanted to.
The moment she settled on that conclusion, she schooled her features and gave a flick of her hand.
"…Tch. Fine," she muttered. "Come with me."
She turned, her floating spear drifting silently to her side like a shadow.
Old metal, still sharp. Its faint glow told of enchantments embedded long ago—worn, but deadly.
Grey followed without a word.
She led him through a curtain to the back room. A tighter space. The air was thicker here, lined with shelves that held more serious goods—carefully arranged, locked behind old rune-wards.
"I don't bring just anyone in here," she said, not bothering to look back. "Not even your friend Rex got past that curtain. But you… you brought me a good deal last time. That's the only reason I'm letting someone like you in. Consider yourself very lucky."
Grey's eyes drifted across the room.
He saw his potion. The same bottle he'd sold her, now sitting behind thick glass, proudly displayed with a handwritten label and triple the price. It wasn't alone.
Several rank 1 and rank 2 potion lay scattered across the shelves... Not only that there were also artifacts and scrolls....
Although none of it was too powerful. But for someone like him— mana less, under-equipped—every item here was a treasure.
"You said you needed scrolls?" she asked, pulling a drawer open and sorting through parchment with gloved fingers.
"Yes. and i would also like to purchase rune if you have any"
She raised an eyebrow but didn't commented.
Grey took a slow step to the side.
Grey's eyes swept across the room. For any visible traps. But then again, she didn't need any.
She was the trap.
Just because he was mana less—harmless at first glance—didn't mean she trusted him.
in fact she didn't let her guard down, not even for a second. He noticed the way her spear never left her side, how her fingers rested near it even in stillness. A silent promise of violence, always within reach.
She was quite cautious.
But even then—despite the calm mask she wore—he can see it.
Emotions.
Behind those old eyes...
It was faint, almost imperceptible, but not to him
He can see it all to clearly... the greed in her eyes