Still held back by Rohan, Arminius spread his hands casually as he spoke.
"Now see, that sounds like a branding problem, not a product problem. You're telling me there's no market at all?"
Rohan simply dragged Arminius away, steering him deeper into the market.
After a while, Rohan spoke. "There's no point asking for directions here. Everyone just wants to sell their own product. They don't play fair like they do on the surface."
Arminius let out a quiet chuckle. "Can't blame them. Fair doesn't sell."
Eventually, Rohan and Arminius found themselves checking every bookstore and alchemy supply stall they came across.
At that moment, Rohan truly understood how bizarre the underground market was.
He was stunned by the sheer number of strange items and substances on display. Elf ears. Dwarf private parts. Werewolf teeth. Harpy wings. Books on devil worship. Even manuals on how to create a half-breed between a lizard and a fish.
"What the hell is wrong with these people?" he muttered.
Arminius chuckled softly. "You're asking the wrong question. The real question is who's buying?"
"A lot, apparently," Rohan replied, glancing at a man who had just purchased a dwarf's severed organ.
He finally understood why humans and other humanoid species were constantly at odds with one another.
After checking nearly a hundred stalls, they finally found a bookstore that sold books on mechanics. Once they confirmed the books were authentic, Arminius and Rohan purchased more than ten volumes, ranging from basic to advanced, for a total of fifty gold coins. In truth, it was Keana's money.
Afterward, they asked the clerk why the sale of mechanical books had been forbidden by the Octavian family, but the clerk simply shook his head, admitting he did not know the reason either. One thing was certain. Exactly ten years ago, a law had been passed forbidding the sale of such books within the city.
They then continued their search for the ingredients Belluci had asked for.
Rohan felt relieved that everything had gone smoothly so far, without a single incident. Given how shady the market was, he had expected trouble at any moment.
But so far, no one had tried to mess with them. Perhaps people could tell that Rohan and Arminius were strong in their own right. Indigo mages and Azure mages were not common, after all.
After walking for nearly an hour, they finally found a store that sold wyvern blood, along with all the ingredients Belluci had requested.
However, after Arminius asked for the price, he gasped.
"Three hundred gold coins?" he repeated. "Wow. That's not a price. That's a personal insult."
He leaned casually against the counter, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
"Let me guess. You saw us coming, thought, 'Those two look desperate,' and decided to test your luck."
"Now, I respect the hustle. Truly. But three hundred? For this quality?"
He clicked his tongue. "You're not even trying to make it believable."
The merchant rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, if you have the money, just buy it."
Arminius was about to reply, but Rohan stepped forward and raised a hand, signaling for him to stop.
"I'll handle this," he muttered.
He stepped forward and fixed his gaze on the blood merchant, a woman who appeared to be in her late thirties.
"That phrase you just used. You said 'oh my god.' Tell me, who exactly is your god?" he asked in a firm tone.
The merchant frowned. "What does that have to do with anything? Are you here to buy or to preach?"
"It matters," he replied calmly. "For your future as a successful merchant. Go on. It will not hurt to tell me."
She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "The God of Conquest. There. Are you happy now? Are you going to pay or not?"
Still ignoring the subject of payment, Rohan continued. "Tell me. What has the God of Conquest ever given you? Have you ever received a response from Him?"
"Are you crazy? Why would a deity respond to a nobody like me?"
"THAT'S IT!" Rohan suddenly raised his voice, startling both the merchant and Arminius.
"The God of Conquest has ignored you," he said, returning to a calm tone.
"My deity, my lord, is different. If you become his devout follower and pray to him, he will answer."
She rolled her eyes. "That's cute. Really. But unless your god is paying, I don't care."
"Oh, you will care." He glanced at the stall, then back at her. "Tell me, what is the most important thing in business?"
"Money," she replied flatly.
"Wrong. It's communication. My deity, the Lord, can help his devoted followers with that."
Rohan raised a hand slightly. "Now imagine this. You want to communicate with someone who is nearly a thousand miles away. How would you do it?"
"That's impossible," the merchant said.
"And that's where you're wrong," Rohan replied. "Swear your faith to my lord, the Storm God, and you will see the true benefit of serving such a deity."
"And once you do, I will show you exactly how to relay a message to someone, even from a great distance. Of course, the other person would have to pledge their faith to the Storm God as well."
The merchant scoffed. "Storm God? Sounds more like a courier god to me."
Rohan smiled. "But tell me, you're interested, aren't you? You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. You said it yourself, the God of Conquest does not care. But if my words are proven true, you will be pledging your faith to a god that actually cares."
The merchant fell silent. She tapped her fingers slowly against the table while her eyes fixed on him.
Rohan could tell she was thinking, and he knew exactly how important communication was for someone like her.
Long-distance communication matters significantly for supply chains. Knowing when a product is available or when a hunter returns can mean the difference between profit and loss.
And then there was leverage. Information was power. And better communication meant better deals.
Even more, high value clients rarely showed themselves. The wealthy did not wander places like this. They sent word and stayed far away from the market.
And that was the problem. Sending word was slow and unreliable. Messages got lost, delayed, or intercepted. If there were a better way to communicate, someone like her would never run out of buyers.
After several moments, at last, the merchant spoke. "How do I know you're not bullshitting me?"
"Simple." He chuckled. "We make a deal. You prove it yourself. Swear an oath to the Storm God. Then have someone else do the same. Ask the Storm God to send a message to that person. But of course, the Storm God will not send your message if you do not know the code."
"Code?" She tilted her head.
Behind Rohan, Arminius also looked confused, but he let Rohan continue.
"Yes. A code," Rohan confirmed. "I have one that will let you relay messages at least three times a day."
"And the deal is simple. You will give us 300 milliliters of wyvern blood, 600 milliliters of naga venom, 150 grams of acid slime brain, and 75 milliliters of chimera blood."
The merchant's eyes widened. "That's worth nine hundred gold coins!"
"But," Rohan said, raising a finger, "what if it works? Nine hundred gold coins is a small price to pay for that kind of advantage."
The merchant did not respond immediately.
Nine hundred gold coins was not a small amount. But if what he said was true, it could mean faster deals, direct contact, no middlemen, and more profit.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him, as if trying to peel away a lie.
"And you're just going to tell me the code?" she asked.
Rohan met her gaze without hesitation. "After you commit."
She clicked her tongue, clearly annoyed, but the hesitation was gone.
"Fine."
She raised her voice. "Jarvis!"
Immediately, someone emerged from a nearby hut and walked to her side.
She instructed him to swear an oath to the Storm God. After seeing that nothing happened to Jarvis, she followed suit.
At that moment, a notification appeared in front of Rohan.
[Jarvis has followed you]
[Taylor Bran has followed you]
After reading it, Rohan shifted his focus back to the merchant, who had just ordered Jarvis to move to a more distant location.
After nearly ten minutes, she asked, "What's the code?"
She handed him a pen and a slip of paper.
Rohan took it and wrote:
"In the name of the Storm Lord, let the heavens speak."
For a moment, he felt embarrassed. To him, it sounded incredibly corny.
She took the note back, read it once, then let out a short laugh.
"Oh wow," she said. "This whole thing just screams scam." She looked up at him, unimpressed. "Be honest. You're scamming me, aren't you?"
"Why don't you try?" Rohan said firmly.
She stepped back a few paces and whispered a prayer.
"In the name of the Storm Lord, let the heavens speak."
"The Storm God, relay my message to Jarvis. Tell him to return at once and say the word 'silver' when he arrives."
Immediately after, Rohan selected Jarvis from his newly gained followers and relayed the message.
Ten minutes later, Jarvis returned and said loudly, "SILVER!"
The merchant gasped. She listened as Jarvis rambled about hearing a magnificent voice, followed by a message from Taylor.
Rohan smiled. Beside him, Arminius smirked.
"I assume you can give us the ingredients now. You will not go back on your word, will you?" Rohan asked.
Still visibly shocked, she told Jarvis to hand over the agreed items worth nine hundred gold coins. Yet she did not seem disappointed. In fact, her expression slowly shifted into excitement.
With this new method of communication, her business would only grow faster.