Chapter 37: FRIH - 37
Silence hung in the air for a moment, thick and palpable like a weighted curtain drawn between the three of them. The stillness wasn't awkward—just surprising. The kind of silence that follows an unexpectedly large gift. In that brief hush, the musty scent of parchment and ink drifted up from the ancient book the shopkeeper reluctantly handed over, the golden letters embossed on the leather cover gleaming faintly under the flickering glow of the magical ceiling lamp.
Ronan, somewhat bewildered, accepted the magic book.
His fingers curled around the aged spine, the leather smooth and worn in the way only long-used items could be. It was heavier than he expected, filled with thick vellum pages dense with meticulously penned arcane script. For a moment, his eyes scanned the cover, the title unfamiliar yet inviting. Power whispered beneath his fingertips, restrained by ink and symbols. He hadn't truly expected the merchant to give it up. That made the victory all the more satisfying.
The sudden acquisition felt surprisingly pleasant; he'd avoided owing a favor to the village elder.
That in itself was rare. Favors, after all, were like debts written in ink only magic could erase. And with someone like the elder, accepting one came with unseen strings. This—this was clean. Effortless. Almost funny.
Martin, meanwhile, nervously observed Ronan's expression.
His boots tapped lightly against the wooden floor, shifting his weight from foot to foot as though balancing between caution and pride. The tension that had tightened around his shoulders was slowly easing, like a drawstring being loosened. His eyes flicked between Ronan's unreadable face and the shopkeeper's absence, trying to measure the fallout.
Seeing the growing amusement on his face, he visibly relaxed, offering a fawning smile.
His shoulders dropped. A short exhale escaped him, almost a laugh, but not quite. "You're welcome, sir," he said quickly, stepping forward, tone deferential. "Shops that prey on outsiders deserve to fail."
There was steel beneath the politeness, a sharp undertone that suggested this wasn't the first time Martin had stepped in. Not every visitor had someone like him to shield them.
"If you're still unhappy, I can ensure he can't do business anywhere nearby. He won't do this again. Lord Marco has the power to do so."