The three of them walked back the way they came.
The buildings on either side of the street cast long, slender Shadows in the sunlight.
But Aidele’s steps were a bit lighter than before.
By the time they returned to No. 12 Golden Oak Street, it was already noon.
Old Finn was sorting through accounts behind the front hall counter. He didn’t even look up at the sound of the door opening.
His withered fingers flicked the abacus beads, creating a crisp, clacking sound.
"Back?" he asked, his voice hoarse, as if talking to himself.
"Mhm," Aidele responded. Without another word, she headed straight for the courtyard.
Old Finn raised his head, his cloudy eyes sweeping over the temporary badge on Ian’s chest before glancing at the little black bird peeking out from his shoulder.
The corner of his mouth twitched, looking like a smile, but also like a helpless, self-deprecating sneer.
Then he lowered his head and went back to his abacus.
Ian paid him no mind.
He walked into the courtyard and stood under the half-withered old Golden Oak Tree.
Gaga flew down from his shoulder and landed by the tree’s roots, its little claws scratching at the fallen leaves on the ground, apparently still angry.
Ian squatted down and reached out to rub its little head.
"Still mad?"
"Gaa!" Gaga raised its head, its heterochromatic eyes full of indignation.
"They looked down on you!"
"I know," Ian’s voice was calm.
"Then why didn’t you...?"
"Because strength isn’t proven with words."
Ian cut it off, his fingers gently stroking the feathers on its back.
"They might look down on me today, but in the future... I’ll make them fear me."
Gaga tilted its head, looking at him.
Then it nodded its little head vigorously, a small flame igniting in its heterochromatic eyes.
"Yeah! Ian, you’re the best!"
Ian smiled and stood up.
He looked at the heavy Metal door across the courtyard, the flowing light of the Runes on it faintly visible in the sun.
That was his battlefield.
Aidele came out of her room, holding a neatly folded piece of Parchment.
She walked up to Ian and handed the Parchment to him.
"This is a list of the materials currently in the Workshop’s inventory."
Her voice was soft, but her gaze was serious.
"Take a look. Tell me what’s missing, and I’ll go procure it immediately."
Ian took the Parchment and unfolded it.
Dozens of materials were listed on it, densely packed with their names, quantities, and quality Levels.
Most were common Tier One Magical Potion Materials, but the quality was inconsistent, and the stock was low.
He scanned it quickly, his fingertip tapping on a few items.
"These are too low-quality. The purity isn’t high enough."
He pointed to several others. "These are out of stock."
Aidele’s brow furrowed slightly. "I know the Workshop has been..."
"It’s fine," Ian interrupted her.
He took a Feather Pen from his Dimension Ring and quickly wrote several lines on the back of the Parchment.
The RUSTLE of the pen’s tip scratching across the paper was exceptionally clear in the quiet courtyard.
Aidele watched quietly.
Old Finn had, at some point, walked to the courtyard entrance and was now leaning against the doorframe, his withered fingers holding a pipe.
Smoke drifted up slowly, obscuring his expression.
But his cloudy eyes pierced through the smoke, fixed on the pen in Ian’s hand.
When Ian finished writing, he handed the Parchment to Aidele.
"This is the list of materials I need."
Aidele took it, her eyes scanning the writing on the paper.
Her pupils contracted slightly.
"These materials... The quality requirements are very high, and some of them..."
"I know," Ian nodded. "But you just said you’d procure whatever was missing."
He paused, then added, "One week."
Aidele looked up at him.
"One week?"
"Yes." Ian’s voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable certainty.
"Shortly, I will refine a batch of finished Potions."
"What kind of finished Potions?"
"Starlight Potion."
Aidele’s breath hitched.
She stared at Ian, her eyes filled with surprise, doubt, and a faint glimmer of anticipation.
"The Starlight Potion... is its effect really as good as you say?"
"Even better than you think," Ian replied, full of confidence.
’It might only be a Tier One Potion, but the vast population of the Wizard World constitutes a mid-to-high-end demographic with the strongest desire to spend.’
Aidele was silent for a moment, looking down at the list in her hand, her fingertips tightening slightly.
Then she looked up and took a deep breath.
"Alright."
Her voice was soft, yet decisive.
"In one week, there’s a small materials exchange meeting within the family. All the heirs have to attend."
"When the time comes, I’ll bring your Potions."
She paused, her gaze sharpening.
"As the initial proof of my ’resourcefulness’."
Ian nodded. "That’s enough."
Aidele said no more. She put away the list and turned, striding quickly toward the front hall.
She needed to procure the materials immediately. Time was tight if she wanted to refine a large batch of Potions and make a big splash.
Old Finn was still leaning against the doorframe, smoke rising slowly from his pipe.
He watched Aidele’s hastily departing figure, then glanced back at Ian, who stood in the courtyard.
Then he averted his gaze and turned back toward the front hall.
He said nothing.
But Ian could feel that a subtle, scrutinizing gaze had appeared in those cloudy eyes.
Only Ian and Gaga remained in the courtyard.
Ian walked to the Metal door and took out the key Old Finn had given him earlier from his Dimension Ring.
He inserted the key into the lock and turned it.
CLICK. The door opened.
A musty smell washed over him, a mixture of herbs, Metal, and the faint, lingering scent of dust.
Ian stepped inside.
Beyond the door was a sunken space, with steps leading down.
Glowing Crystal Stones were embedded in the walls, their dim light barely illuminating the path ahead.