"Good morning, brother~ You spent the night in the preparation room again, huh?"

"Morning, Adam."

As soon as I stepped out of the preparation room, I saw Emily and Sylvia at the oak table, munching on bread.

My sister aside, Sylvia was trying to stuff three slices of bread into her mouth at once, her cheeks puffed out, making her speech slightly slurred.

So cute. Yet precisely because of that, I felt particularly troubled.

After yesterday's conversation, I had completely confirmed Sylvia's feelings.

The history between her and Mr. Wilson was too profound, effortlessly sinking my frivolous fantasies.

So, I would properly hide my own desires and play the role of the grateful debtor.

I would help her see Mr. Wilson and assist her in realizing her own affection.

Mr. Wilson is calm, wise, and kind-hearted, and Sylvia is, needless to say, wonderful as well. Both are good people I respect. I could accept this.

It was the most correct choice.

...Even though it was the right choice, the moment I saw her smile at me, I started feeling sad again. How pathetic.

I pushed away the distracting thoughts, nodded at Sylvia, and turned to my sister.

"Good morning. I'm heading out to buy potion ingredients. Do you need me to get anything for you?"

"A diamond necklace!"

Guess not. I walked past Sylvia toward the table, took a slice of bread, and prepared to leave.

"Wait a moment."

Sylvia grabbed my wrist and slipped a small note into my hand.

Her cool, soft skin touched mine, and it took some effort to focus my attention on the note.

It listed some common herbs and alchemical materials.

"I want to make some potions that would be good for your mother. These are the raw materials. If you have spare money, please buy some."

She knows how to make potions too... Ah, of course, given her extensive healing magic.

Come to think of it, she was wandering around the preparation room last night, which made it hard for me to finish even a single step of the process.

"Alright. See you later."

I bid farewell to my sister and the girl, left the front room, and headed toward the town center.

Under the pleasant morning sun, I arrived at Coinmaker Street. Although named "Coinmaker," it was purely because a century ago it housed a workshop that minted enchanted silver coins—it had no relation to the present day.

Now, this street had a bit of everything: taverns, shops selling herbs, minerals, weapons, food, clothing... basically, anything you could need.

"Look, pal, I'm really out of stock. You've been drinking all day. How about coming back tonight?"

"Liar... You clearly still have wine, you stingy bastard! Don't you dare chase me away!"

As I walked toward the shop where I had pre-ordered herbs, a commotion erupted at the tavern entrance. I looked over.

The tavern owner stood at the door with a troubled expression. A man who looked like a pile of mud was rolling on the ground in front of him, clutching a sword and several empty bottles, completely indifferent to the onlookers.

He seemed like a drunkard who had lost his senses—laughing, whining, and crying all at once.

Thanks to his thorough polishing of the ground, his clothes were already tattered, but the material looked expensive. This man was probably wealthy, perhaps even a noble. He would surely regret this deeply when he sobered up. Yet, I felt a twinge of envy at his ability to express his emotions so recklessly.

Wait.

He looks somewhat familiar. Upon closer inspection... this might, possibly, be Mr. Wilson. His state was so deranged I didn't recognize him at first.

If I had seen him in town before, I would have been delighted. Right now, I couldn't muster a smile.

I approached the tavern and crouched down beside my mentor. Sigh, it really is him.

"Mr. Wilson? Are you... alright?"

Mr. Wilson instantly stiffened his face, stared at me wide-eyed, then let out a foul, boozy burp in my direction, followed by a string of incomprehensible giggles.

He bore an eighty percent resemblance to that wife-beating drunkard neighbor who died alongside my father.

"Heh, hehehehe..."

I imagined Sylvia lying next to him and felt a sudden surge of inexplicable anger.

Since forming the contract with Sylvia, I had also gained a few ice-aligned runes. I created several ice spikes and slipped them down his collar.

"Whoa!"

Mr. Wilson let out a short scream. His unfocused eyes gradually cleared, and the redness quickly faded from his face.

He sobered up fast. No—wait, he used healing magic on himself.

Mr. Wilson released the tavern owner and climbed to his feet.

Completely ignoring the surrounding spectators, he spoke as if no one else was there:

"It's Adam. Good morning. What are you doing here?"

He was using his usual lecturing tone, the one he used when teaching me.

"That's what I should be asking you. Didn't you say last week you'd be studying Mordresar's notes for the whole week? Why are you rolling on the street first thing in the morning?"

"Why do you sound a bit pointed today? I have times when I want to drink too. Huh? Wasn't I at the tavern on Blacksmith Street...?"

Seems only his body got up; his brain was still soaked in alcohol. Healing magic isn't a cure-all, after all.

"I've never seen you drink before. Also, what's with the sword in your hand?"

To my knowledge, Mr. Wilson doesn't know swordsmanship. Moreover, the more I looked, the more this sword resembled the ice sword Sylvia had created.

I should say it's fortunate she didn't come along.

Mr. Wilson showed a complicated expression.

"It belongs to a companion from the past. For some reason, I suddenly remembered them yesterday, so I came out for a drink."

...Annoying. Shouldn't have asked.

"I see. I hope you have a good day. I need to buy ingredients, so I'll take my leave."

"Wait. You're going to Silverleaf Apothecary, right?"

"Yes."

"I need to buy a few things too. Let's go together."

"Alright."

I only had the desire to refuse, not a valid reason, so I could only nod in agreement.

"You borrowed Volume 8 of Edmund last time. How's your progress?"

"It's going alright."

"That volume is very important for potion-making. Even if you're busy, you should focus on—"

On the way to Silverleaf Apothecary, Mr. Wilson guided me as he always had.

However, with his tattered clothes and empty bottles, he completely lacked the aura of the wise mage he once projected.

My mind was filled with images of a smiling Sylvia and a rolling Mr. Wilson, making it impossible to think straight.

Damn it. Why did you have to expose your pathetic side right now? Couldn't you have waited until next Wednesday?

Before I knew it, Silverleaf Apothecary came into view.

"You've been a bit slack this week. This won't do."

"Yes, sorry."

"You're not apologizing to me. You only need to apologize to yourself... Forget it. See you on Wednesday."

Spouting these lofty principles, Mr. Wilson walked into Silverleaf Apothecary in his disheveled state and headed upstairs under the stares of the shop attendants.

Finally separated from him, I let out a complicated sigh and entered the shop.

Silverleaf Apothecary specialized in providing raw materials and books for mages, alchemists, and apothecaries.

I went to the appropriate counter, waited in line for a bit, and handed the receipt from my order—along with Sylvia's small note—to the attendant.

"Hello. I pre-ordered some Stardust. Also, could you check if you have these items in stock?"

The attendant worked behind the counter for a moment, then showed a troubled expression. She pointed to the ingredients listed on the note.

"These are all in stock. I'll prepare them for you right away. However, your pre-ordered Stardust might be delayed for a few days."

I pointed at the other attendants moving about behind her.

They were clearly moving crates of Stardust.

"Isn't there stock? Were all of those ordered before my reservation?"

"Of course not..."

The attendant glanced around and lowered her voice.

"...Actually, we did have Stardust just a moment ago. But the young master of the Goldflame family suddenly came in and forcibly bought up several items in stock, including the Stardust. Look, he's still over there. There's nothing we can do."

I looked toward the center of the hall.

The plump noble I had seen in the forest was standing there, surrounded by his guards.