Venim, Antique Store.
Otto halted in front of the building. He fixed his hair before twisting the door open. The bell chime jingled as the door creaked open.
The store was neither too spacious nor cramped, having all antiques arranged on the shelves against the walls with the shopkeeper's counter on the far side of the room.
Otto went past all the shelves before standing right in front of the counter. The man behind the table was a bald old man wearing a white linen robe. He turned his head from the book he was reading and glanced at Otto. "How can I help you?"
Otto remembered what Gerav had told him before coming here. He lowered his head before speaking in a low voice. "Deliverance's poem."
Recognition dawned on the old man's face before he collected himself to get up from his seat. Without a single word of conveyance, the shopkeeper urged Otto to follow him with a hand gesture.
Otto didn't say a word and followed him behind the counter. The shopkeeper pressed his fingers on a spot with an irregular plank colour on the wall. A click sounded behind the wall. He pushed it open to reveal a dark stairway going down.
Although Gerav had informed him of this passageway, he couldn't help but feel anxious. The shopkeeper held a lantern and went straight ahead while Otto followed along.
The narrow passageway was gloomy and filled with an aura of silence. Every footstep reverberated through the entire darkness as the rough texture of stones surrounded all sides.
Otto felt a slight hint of nostalgia ever since he came into this world. Now that he thought about it, why did he wake up in a sarcophagus out of all places?
He struggled to connect the dots and eventually sighed out in disappointment. He still needed more information about this world, after all.
That was when the old man broke the silence. "Old Gerav sent you, right?"
"Yeah, he told me to come find you." Otto replied.
The old man sighed out while shaking his head. "That man has finally found a disciple, it seems."
Otto tilted his head. "Who was he in the past?"
From what others had told him, including the thug that had his head exploded in an alleyway, Gerav seemed to have a backstory that he didn't wish Otto to know about. All he heard from all around him was that he came to this town twenty years ago and settled here alone.
If Otto wanted to inquire about an old man's backstory, what better way than to ask another person around his age? For example—this old shopkeeper right here.
"Hoh, a curious kid you are? Well, I don't know much about the details either. But rumours said that Gerav was once a soldier from Kythrain; an exile, to be precise. That man just came to town with nothing but a set of armour and a sword. I too went to take a glimpse of that foreigner that day. And…. Heh, you won't believe how scary that man's face was back then." The shopkeeper chuckled as he reminisced about his old days.
Old man was once a soldier? Otto's eyes widened as the temperature in the room seemed to drop in an instant. Not because Gerav was once a soldier, but because of the fact that he was an exile from Kythrain.
From the book in which he had read, Kythrain had never spared their exiles' necks before. If Gerav was an exile, that would mean…
He shook his head vigorously before brushing the idea into the corners of his mind. Twenty years had passed, after all. Stubbornly trying to find one exile after all those years was foolish.
He remembered what kind of nation Kythrain was like—a state right above Iderila's northern border. Right now, both of them have a very bitter political relationship. Some even believed war could break out at any time. And Venim sat near the border of said nations.
Both of them went quiet again throughout the entire walk. After a while, Otto could finally scrutinise a light source coming from below. As both of them exited the passage, Otto was met with an unexpected spectacle.
Tattered tents and makeshift wooden stalls covered the whole area. Torches sputtered on the walls. Their oily scent reached Otto's nostril as soon as he stepped foot into this place. Unlike the orderly markets above the surface, there were no guards here—only 'enforcers' with an axe and a crest on their right shoulder could be seen patrolling the area.
A hand patted Otto's shoulder, which made him turn his back. It was the shopkeeper. "I'll be going ahead. I believe you can go up to the surface by yourself."
He then turned around and waved his hand. "Send that old man my regards."
Otto smiled back before going back to his route. Gerav's instruction was simple—find the materials on the item list for his next training.
He went past many markets on his way there. Weapons were displayed on the wall. Amulets and charms were sold at highly moderate prices. Roasted meat and metallic blood mingled in the air. People were seen buying strange items in all directions. Otto also spotted a group of witches buying strange creatures locked in cages.
He ignored all of them and went straight into a tent with all other customers passing by.
"What item brought your attention, young man?" A man wearing striped clothing of brown and black with a top hat greeted Otto. Otto was even surprised over the fact that this genre of clothing existed in such a world.
He directed his gaze over the counter to find a unique item on display with a velvet cushion inside a glass case. After scanning the item inside the display, his eyes began to sparkle. His heart was giving a violent lurch, as if trying to leap out of his throat.
Sitting on the cushion was a fruit coated in golden skin that revealed no signs of decay. Its presence thickens the air outside the glass case.
It was the golden apple, the very fruit of elemental magic.