Translator: CinderTL
The red crystal held an unsettling aura, so Roland had kept it close to his body.
Though he didn't understand how Bronson had sensed its presence through his clothes, now that the man had discovered it, Roland saw no point in continuing to conceal it.
Moreover, he himself was deeply curious about the crystal's origins.
The scene of the Bloodscale Kobold inexplicably bursting into flames that day was still etched in his memory, leaving him uneasy even now.
Shaking his head to clear the image from his mind, Roland reached into his chest and carefully withdrew the crystal, slowly extending it toward Bronson.
"Mr. Bronson, is this what you were referring to?"
"This... this can't be possible!"
Bronson's pupils snapped into sharp focus, his gaze locked onto the crystal as his expression underwent a rapid transformation.
Confusion gave way to disbelief, which in turn morphed into deep suspicion.
"Forgive my boldness," he said, his voice trembling slightly as he took a deep breath. "May I examine it closely, Roland?"
"Of course, Mr. Bronson."
With permission granted, Bronson reached out with trembling hands to receive the red crystal. Fighting to suppress the surging waves of emotion within him, he carefully turned the crystal over and over, his gaze intently scrutinizing every facet.
After a moment, Bronson suddenly stopped what he was doing, his brow furrowing deeply.
The texture and luster of the crystal matched the description he had read in the ancient tomes of the High Tower during his youth.
"Where did you find this?"
Bronson spoke in a dry voice, deliberately keeping his tone steady.
"I took it from an Aberrant Kobold."
Roland omitted some details, giving a concise account of the day's events.
When he mentioned the scales and flames, he noticed a subtle change in Bronson's expression.
"Scales... flames..."
Bronson muttered to himself, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the crystal's surface.
"Mr. Bronson..."
Seeing him so lost in thought, Roland frowned.
"What exactly is this crystal?"
"Huu..."
Bronson exhaled deeply, slowly raising his head. The turmoil in his eyes had subsided.
He pursed his lips, as if searching for the right words.
After a moment's hesitation, he explained softly, "It's a crystal formed by the solidification of Magic Elements."
"Magic Elements?"
The unfamiliar term left Roland puzzled.
But Bronson didn't elaborate further. He simply handed the red crystal back, forcing a weak smile.
"Come in," he said, turning toward the house. His voice betrayed an unmistakable weariness. "You didn't come all this way just to ask about that crystal, did you?"
Seeing this, Roland set aside his lingering doubts and followed him inside.
The door closed softly behind them, and the flickering candlelight cast their shadows onto the mottled walls of the cramped room.
Roland untied the bundle he carried in his left hand and carefully presented the uniquely shaped dagger to Mr. Bronson with both hands.
"Mr. Bronson, the dagger you commissioned has been completed."
"Oh?"
Mr. Bronson, who had been sitting in a chair massaging his temples, suddenly looked up. He carefully took the dagger and examined it closely in the dim light.
When he looked up again, his tired eyes shone with disbelief.
"I thought Mr. Hawk's praise was just flattery, but..."
His fingers traced the intricate carvings on the central cylindrical section of the dagger.
"You forged this in less than two months, and these carvings..." Mr. Bronson's voice trembled slightly, and a rare flush of excitement colored his face. "Did you carve all these by hand?"
"Of course, Mr. Bronson."
Noticing Bronson's unusual behavior, Roland frowned and instinctively took a half-step back.
"These engravings... is something wrong with them?"
"No, quite the opposite. You've done them perfectly."
Seemingly realizing his lapse in composure, Bronson took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, though his fingers continued to unconsciously trace the engravings on the dagger.
"I just didn't expect you to achieve this level of skill."
Silence spread through the dimly lit room.
After a moment, Bronson suddenly looked up, his eyes gleaming with an indescribable longing.
"Roland, how about we make another deal?"
"A deal?"
"Just like before."
Bronson licked his dry lips.
"My research has hit a dead end recently. I need an assistant. In exchange, I can answer all your questions about that Magic Crystal, and..."
Seeing Roland hesitate, he quickly jumped up from his chair and stumbled toward a bookshelf in the corner.
Yellowed parchment and ancient tomes were flipped through roughly, dust dancing in the candlelight.
In moments, a stack of yellowed ancient books had piled up before Roland.
Their covers were faded and covered in spiderweb-like cracks, the inscriptions like twisted tadpoles, utterly unlike the neat, standardized common tongue of the Golden Valley Kingdom.
Roland squinted, barely making out the word "theory" amidst the bizarre symbols.
"As for me..."
Bronson suddenly curled his lips into a self-deprecating smile, a bitter expression on his face.
"The only thing I have to offer is that I've read a few more useless books than the average person."
He raised his bloodshot eyes, his voice tinged with sincerity.
"So, if you're willing to serve as my temporary assistant, I'll answer all your questions without reservation. What do you think of this deal?"
He gently stroked the ancient tomes, continuing, "These are books I've treasured for years. Believe me, the knowledge within will be invaluable to you."
Roland fell silent.
The candlelight flickered in his deep brown pupils, reflecting the turmoil within.
To be fair, this deal might seem unfavorable to an outsider.
But for Roland at this moment, it was a lifeline.
Ever since his inexplicable transmigration to this world, the original owner had left him nothing but a malnourished body and the useless status of a commoner.
He was like a blind man with open eyes, piecing together his understanding of this world from scraps of information he overheard.
Initially, he had planned to establish a firm foothold before slowly exploring this unfamiliar world.
But his encounter with the kobolds shattered that naive notion completely.
That incident had jolted him into realizing that this world was far more dangerous than he had imagined, and he likely wouldn't be given much time to explore at his leisure.
As for Bronson's vast knowledge, Roland had already witnessed its depth firsthand during his apprenticeship.
Having made up his mind, Roland raised his head and asked earnestly, "So, Mr. Bronson, as your assistant, what specific tasks will I be responsible for?"
"The work is quite simple!"
Seeing Roland's agreement, Bronson unconsciously rubbed his hands together, a barely concealed flash of joy in his eyes.
He straightened his usually hunched back slightly, and a rare spark of vitality appeared on his habitually downcast face.
"But before that..." he said, pointing to the red crystal in Roland's palm. "I believe I should first answer your questions about this Magic Crystal."
Bronson cleared his throat and began to speak in a steady tone.
"Roland, I presume you've read about wizards in those frivolous novels people enjoy?"
"Of course."
Receiving confirmation, Bronson continued.
"Wizards are most renowned for their wondrous and mysterious spells. But..." He tapped his knuckles lightly on the wooden table, the crisp sound accompanying his measured explanation. "Casting spells requires drawing Magic Elements from the environment. However, several centuries ago, these elements inexplicably vanished, and the wizarding community faded from public view."
"So, this crystal..."
Roland immediately opened his palm, revealing the faintly glowing red crystal.
He clearly remembered Mr. Bronson calling it a "crystallized Magic Element."
(End of the Chapter)
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