Silverleaf Town is the fief of the Goldflame Viscount, so the name "Goldflame" here holds almost the same weight as "the royal family."

Each generation's viscount automatically becomes the town's mayor, responsible for discussing various affairs with the town council.

The mage corps, the militia, the Magic Association branch sent from the capital, the merchants' guild... essentially, every notable organization falls under his jurisdiction. Silverleaf Apothecary also seems to have investments from the current viscount.

In short, it's a somewhat intimidating power bloc. In contrast, Stardust isn't an exceptionally rare material. If you're willing to pay more and run a few circles through the alleys, you can probably buy some.

But why is it that, before I knew it, I found myself standing in front of the plump noble, basking in the prickly gazes of his guards?

The noble himself looked at me somewhat dazedly and said:

"The herb gatherer from the woods... you actually survived. Congratulations. What brings you to me?"

His tone was kind, and he hadn't forgotten our shared, panicked flight through the forest. My confidence surged, and I decided to reason with him.

"Greetings. I am an apothecary working for Mr. Wilson. I pre-ordered some Stardust three days ago and urgently need it now. Otherwise, I'm afraid I won't be able to deliver his order on time.

"Might I trouble you to spare two measures of Stardust for me?"

The plump noble said:

"I see. My name is Darion Goldflame, the seventh child of Viscount Goldflame, with the second-in-line right of inheritance."

"My name is Adam Hammer, the eldest son of Thomas Hammer, with the first-in-line right of inheritance."

"Hmph, how enviable. I am currently forming a new mage corps. So far, I have recruited sixteen talented and powerful young individuals, with another sixteen set to join later.

"If I don't obtain those two measures of Stardust, do you know what will happen?"

"...Those thirty-two people will all gang up on me?"

"No. One of them will fail to receive the reward I promised—a beautiful, glowing obsidian mage badge. Don't you think he's pitiful? Don't you think I, forced to break my word, am pitiful?"

He certainly was pitiful. A few punches from me would probably make him look even more so.

My thoughts seemed to show on my face, a bit too eager.

Darion's sense of alertness was sky-high, as if he'd experienced something traumatic. He immediately waved a hand, and his guards closed in. I had no choice but to step back.

He continued:

"Young man, it is truly sympathetic that you, having done nothing wrong, must disappoint your patron. I sincerely wish to find a solution that satisfies both parties.

"However, happiness in this world is always finite, not something my single benevolent heart can change. Today, I must ask you to consider yourself unlucky. Please don't harbor fantasies beyond your means any longer."

Darion spoke with sincere frankness. For a moment, I didn't know how to respond.

Ultimately, if my goal was just to reclaim the Stardust I was owed, I shouldn't have tried talking in the first place.

The reason I engaged in this lengthy exchange wasn't for the Stardust. It was just that I didn't want to keep resigning myself to bad luck. I was stubbornly mouthing off symbolically, trying to comfort myself that I had at least tried.

I didn't have the courage to take a risky move, to actively throw myself to the mercy of unpredictable luck.

...After stirring things up on a whim, I only felt worse.

Seeing me silent, Darion flashed a victor's smile and continued directing the shop attendants and his guards to move the materials.

I returned to the counter. The attendant had already packaged the items Sylvia wanted.

I paid, packed my things, and as I prepared to leave, I found Mr. Wilson blocking Darion's path.

Mr. Wilson said:

"Young master, it seems you've purchased some Stardust? Could you sell me one crate?"

Darion looked Mr. Wilson up and down in surprise and said:
"Indeed. Did you also place a pre-order?"

He clearly didn't recognize who Mr. Wilson was.

I understood completely. It couldn't be helped. He might not have seen Mr. Wilson's face before, and suddenly seeing a ragged beggar approach him to discuss business would require a lot of mental energy just to process the shock.

"Also...? No, I just suddenly need it and was told there's no stock. So, how much?"

Darion fell silent for a moment, seemingly unsure how to deal with a mentally unstable person with a sword at his waist and a strong build.

He said:
"I would be very happy to help you. However, this Stardust is prepared for the hero, Mr. Wilson. If there are any discrepancies, I fear he would be greatly displeased."

Damn it, was that line earlier just a lie to me? I actually hesitated for a moment over that mage who wouldn't get his badge.

Mr. Wilson wore an expression of "what is this person talking about," then suddenly had a realization. He pulled a filthy, tangled ball of something from his trouser pocket.

Ah, no—looking closer, that seemed to be the medal bestowed by the king, proof of his hero status. But it was really dirty.

So.
Darion, his guards, and the shop attendants looked at each other, confused.

Mr. Wilson had no choice but to polish the front of the medal and present it again. Darion immediately assumed a shocked expression, and the onlookers burst into exclamations.

"It's the hero!"
"It's Mr. Wilson!"
"It's that super heavy-drinking drunkard!"

Just how much did he drink yesterday?

Darion hurriedly signaled his guards, who brought over two crates of Stardust. He said:

"Sir Hero! My deepest apologies! Please accept these two crates of Stardust and forgive my foolishness and impertinence!"

"I only need one crate, and I'll pay for it. Five gold crowns should suffice, right?"
"Of course, of course!"

Mr. Wilson took money from his leather pouch and handed it to Darion, then looked at the wooden crate on the ground.

A sudden idea jumped into my mind. My heart raced, and I trembled slightly from a mix of excitement and fear.

I ran over to the crate and said:
"Let me help you."
"Oh, thank you. The carriage can't come inside the shop. By the way, did you get everything you ordered?"
"Yes. Of course. Actually, I just thought of a question. Do you remember the part in Edmund, Chapter Six, Section Four, that mentions..."

I lifted the crate and headed for the door. Mr. Wilson answered my offhand question while waving to a carriage driver on the street.

Soon, a carriage stopped in front of the shop. I placed the crate on it.
"Thank you. Remember to study Volume Eight!"
"Yes!"

Mr. Wilson offered his thanks and departed with the carriage and the Stardust.

Mindful of the onlookers' eyes, I left Silverleaf Apothecary, crossed the streets, and returned to my family's potion shop.

"Good afternoon, brother! Where's my diamond necklace?"
"Good afternoon."

Sylvia didn't seem to be around. After dealing with Emily, I slipped into the preparation room and arranged the bottles and jars in front of me.

Golden Beetles, Serpentvine, Dragonweed...

I first decanted the items Sylvia wanted into various containers. Finally, I took out the ice crystal sphere I had hidden in my clothes, broke it open, and poured the two measures of Stardust into a bottle.

Compared to a whole crate, this amount was negligible. Even if Mr. Wilson noticed something off, he'd likely assume Silverleaf Apothecary was cutting corners.

I got what I wanted.

Just as I was thinking this, an icy finger poked my shoulder.

"Wah!"
"S-sorry, I just wanted to say hello."

Sylvia had entered without me noticing. She glanced at the bottles and jars on the table and said:
"Are you starting the potion-making?"
"Yes."
"Okay, I won't disturb you then."

With that, she turned to leave.

I hesitated for a moment, then grabbed her wrist.
"Do you have time now?"
"Huh? Yes, I do. What's wrong?"
"The potion processing is a bit troublesome. Would you be willing to lend a hand?"
"Of course!"

Sylvia was taken aback for a second, then broke into her usual bright, radiant smile and nodded at me. The entire preparation room seemed to grow warmer because of it.

I couldn't help but smile faintly myself.

I will help her see Mr. Wilson. I will help her realize her affection.

But, in the few days before that happens, surely it's okay for me to get just a little bit closer to her, isn't it?