Chapter 93: Who scammed who?
"What more could you possibly want from this guy after looting everything the poor old man had?" Blood Reign curiously chimed in his mind.
Damon did not answer her and instead handed over a chunky pouch to the old man. "Thank you, great master. Please take these gold coins. I happened to come across this treasure by accident, but instead of staying with someone useless like me, these coins should be with someone great like you."
The old man accepted the 200 gold coins and looked at Damon with a weird expression. Wasn’t this just the payment for the stock purchase?
Then Damon came to the main agenda. "If I may please trouble the great master to make a few more potions for me..."
The old man arched a brow, his clouded eyes narrowing slightly as if peering through Damon’s courteous mask. "So that’s what this is about," he muttered, not unkindly. "You want me to make more of those failed potions, eh?"
Damon kept his expression respectful but firm. "They were not failures, Great Master. They were simply... misunderstood by the unworthy. But to me, they are invaluable."
There was a long pause. Then the old man let out a rasping chuckle, his shoulders shaking. "You’ve got a silver tongue, boy. Alright. This old man has nothing else to do anyway. If I don’t concoct potions every day, I will lose whatever sanity I have left. But I am going to need more herbs."
Damon smiled and nodded. "Of course. I will bring as many herbs as you need. Thank you, great master. Thank you."
The old man tossed Damon a battered leather satchel, reinforced with arcane stitching. "That’ll keep the good stuff from spoiling," he said. "Now get going. My hands are itching to brew again."