The underground world was perpetually shrouded in darkness.
Only small towns and cities that possessed Sunstones were locations where humans gathered, survived, and multiplied.
In human settlements across the Dark Polar Region, Sunstones were typically replaced and maintained at twelve-hour intervals to replicate the same daylight conditions as the surface.
However, for small settlements like Port Town, the grade of the Sunstone wouldn't be very high — at most about the size of a chicken egg.
The larger the Sunstone, the greater its value and effectiveness. According to rumors, the capitals of the five regions possessed Sunstones as large as small mountains!
Without a Sunstone, an entire settlement would be swallowed by the darkness and its countless dangers. Therefore, the location of the Sunstone in every human settlement was one of the most strictly protected places.
Gazing at the darkened scenery outside the window, Leilin sighed softly and drew the curtains.
After casually setting up a layer of wizard defenses, Leilin leaned back and began his routine meditation.
One dark red wisp of light after another was continuously drawn from the air and converged upon Leilin's body.
Meanwhile, in his sea of consciousness, the silvery-white crystalline structure had grown even more stable, with the hairline fractures along its edges showing a continuous trend of healing.
As for that marking seal? Under the suppression of Leilin's solidified Spiritual Power seal, the milky-white glow had grown increasingly dim — it was foreseeable that in the near future it could be completely destroyed or expelled.
"The situation is excellent!" After witnessing this, the worry Leilin had been carrying finally eased.
Subsequently, his body collapsed onto the bed, sinking into deep sleep.
……
Dawn! Accompanied by the rhythmic tolling of a bell, a ray of sunlight pierced through the curtains and into Leilin's room.
"A rare treat — a proper rest!"
Leilin opened his eyes in bed, feeling refreshed in every part of his body. The exhaustion from a month of sleeping rough and eating in the open had been completely swept away by a single night's rest.
Thanks to his extraordinary physique, even in his current gravely injured state, this level of fatigue was fully recovered after just one night.
"Good morning, sir!"
In the inn's dining hall, the somewhat plump landlady wore a beaming smile as she set down oat bread and milk before Leilin for breakfast.
Several sallow-faced children, their cheeks still streaked with grime, hovered nearby, watching Leilin's breakfast with eyes full of longing.
But they dared only watch from a distance, swallowing hard from time to time, not brave enough to step forward and ask for even a word.
Neither Leilin's refined bearing nor the fine leather armor he wore was something ordinary people could possess.
People like this typically wielded great strength and high status. The children had once witnessed a man carrying a massive iron hammer crush a kid's head with his bare black hand, simply because he didn't like the look of them!
After the incident, the killer had merely been detained by the garrison for a few days, fined a sum of money, and released.
From then on, these little ones had learned a clear lesson: never provoke anyone who carries a weapon!
"Shoo, shoo! Don't bother the gentleman while he's eating!"
Seeing the children pestering her important customer, the landlady immediately barked.
"No need." Leilin picked up a piece of oat bread. "Split this among them."
"Yes, yes! What a kind gentleman you are!"
A flash of regret crossed the plump landlady's face, but she still broke the oat bread into pieces and tossed them to the children. "You lucky little things! You've met a generous gentleman! Quick, eat up and get going!"
The children shoved the oat bread into their mouths at lightning speed. Instantly, a fresh, fragrant aroma filled their entire mouths. They pressed their hands over their mouths, tears nearly spilling from their eyes.
Several of the children squabbled, nearly coming to blows over a few crumbs of bread.
One older boy, however, tucked his share of oat bread into his clothing, apparently wanting to bring it back for someone else to taste.
Those grey-spotted mushrooms could fill a stomach, but the taste was truly horrifying.
And even grey-spotted mushrooms weren't something everyone could afford. Judging from the children's clothes, their families were clearly not well-off — they probably couldn't even eat their fill.
Leilin merely glanced at them briefly before turning his gaze back.
He tossed a golden coin that traced a bright parabola through the air and landed in the landlady's hand.
"I've grown fond of Port Town and would like to settle down here. I'm also looking to do some business — could you tell me what procedures I'd need to go through?"
Until his injuries fully healed and he recovered his strength as a second-rank Warlock, Leilin decided to lie low for the time being.
After all, his lifespan was now enormously long — he could easily afford to spend this amount of time.
"You want to open a shop here?" The landlady looked surprised. "What kind of shop did you have in mind?"
"A weapon shop, perhaps?"
Leilin said casually. His goal in opening a shop was to establish a cover identity and, incidentally, study the Dawn's Radiance longsword, so a weapon shop seemed fitting.
He could see clearly that Port Town bordered the Crowwail Wasteland, which served as something of a frontier outpost for adventurers. Setting up a weapon shop here with decent merchandise would certainly attract plenty of business.
"A weapon shop, then..." The landlady hesitated. "In that case, sir, you'll need to secure the approval of both the Administrative Hall and the Garrison. Also, weapons are restricted merchandise — you'll need permits from the capital and Baron Joseph..."
"Is that so?" Leilin rubbed his chin and asked for the locations of the Administrative Hall, the Garrison, and the Baron's manor before leisurely leaving the inn.
……
Just a few days later, on a commercial street in Port Town, a weapon shop called "The Hammer and Flame" quietly opened its doors.
For anyone else, navigating all those procedures would have been a hassle. But Leilin was a
On top of that, he was willing to spend lavishly, so the entire process of establishing the shop went extremely quickly.
The weapon shop occupied a considerable area: the front section housed the counter and storefront, while the back contained the warehouse, a smelting room, and quarters for Leilin and a few shop assistants.
Upon entering, one would immediately see wooden racks on both sides lined with gleaming, razor-sharp weapons, a cold, sharp aura pervading the entire space.
"Now this... this is fine-grade steel weaponry!"
A burly fellow dressed like a mercenary stepped inside and was immediately captivated by a massive steel greatsword.
"This quenching technique! Only a handful of the big weapon shops in the capital could produce something like this!" The big man ran his fingers along the blade, and that faint silver-blue sheen along the edge made his eyes go wide.
Then his gaze dropped to the price tag below the rack, and he nearly bit his tongue: "Fifty gold feils! I suppose that's to be expected for capital prices — but this is just a small town!"
The Dark Polar Region naturally had its own monetary system. The gold and silver coins used here were not only slightly heavier than those from the South Coast but entirely different in design.
To conceal his identity, Leilin used gold and silver ingots — essentially, he had melted down South Coast currency using his own brute force and recast it.
"Welcome, sir! How can I help you?"
A sharp-looking young man in a waiter's uniform, whom Leilin had hired, immediately approached with a beaming smile.
"This sword! It's too expensive!"
The big man swung the sword a few times, growing ever more reluctant to part with it. "Can you knock the price down a little?"
"I'm terribly sorry!" The young man wore an apologetic smile. "Our shop doesn't haggle — the boss's orders!"
The big man's face flushed red, and he nearly had the urge to start a brawl, but reason quickly reasserted itself.
Anyone who could run a weapon business had formidable backing behind them. He certainly didn't want to die here for no good reason.
Besides, the shop owner was no ordinary person. Word was he was a retired noble adventurer who had not only fast-tracked his approvals with the Administrative Hall and the Garrison but was even treated as an honored guest by the Baron's manor.
Even more startling was that this owner possessed terrifying strength far beyond that of an ordinary adventurer.
The big man had personally witnessed several local toughs who came to cause trouble and shake him down for protection money get beaten to the ground by the dark-haired young shop owner in just a few moves — then promptly hauled away by the garrison who arrived on the scene.
It was said their fate was to serve as hard labor slaves until death!
All of these measures sent a powerful deterrent ripple through the community. The big man stroked the greatsword's hilt as if caressing his own wife for a long time before reluctantly backing out of the shop.
Before leaving, he asked the young man to hold the greatsword for him, insisting he'd return once he'd scraped together enough money.
That night, after the last customer had left, the young man locked the front door and made his way to the back room.
Knock knock!
"Boss, may I come in?" The young man did his best to keep his voice steady.
Every time he met this boss, he felt a slight sense of suffocation. The aura of authority emanating from this new owner was simply too overwhelming. The young man could swear that even a powerful count he'd once been fortunate enough to meet didn't possess the elegant bearing and commanding dignity of his new boss.
"Perhaps my boss really is the heir to some ancient noble house, here to experience life," the young man mused to himself, then felt a twinge of amusement at his own wild imagination.
"Is that Weilin? Come in." A surprisingly young voice rang out.
Weilin steadied himself, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.
In the room, a handsome young man in a loose-fitting robe lay in a cushioned chair, occasionally sipping a mint-infused drink, a large black-bound book in hand.
Being literate! Owning books! These were the hallmarks of nobility in the Dark Polar Region!