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墨書 Inktalez
The merchants and knights engaged in trade were often small-time operators, with some even facing bankruptcy due to poor management. Nobles like Heide would not take them in, primarily out of concern for loyalty and the costs involved. Take Baron Hyde, for instance; his established barony had only seven or eight Transcendent Knights, and any more would be unsustainable given the high expenses associated with maintaining knights.
"Indeed," John replied with a chuckle. "But I'm not a Transcendent Knight; I'm merely a Half-Step Transcendent. What can four of you do?"
He got straight to the point, as his interest lay not with the landed knights but rather with those merchant knights who had no territory and were already down on their luck. These individuals had little connection to figures like Heide or Baron Leon.
The four were taken aback by John's directness, momentarily speechless before one of them finally spoke up. "We wanted to ask where you procure your potions; we’re interested in acquiring some as well."
"Haha, I have no connections," John replied dismissively. "This healing potion is something I brewed myself."
He shot them an irritated look. The four exchanged skeptical glances, their disbelief evident as they turned away from John's table.
As the four disappointing individuals walked off, John glanced at the empty wine bottle before addressing a nearby servant. "Bring me another bottle of Juniper Honey Mead."
He received the mead and, instead of pouring it into a glass, popped the cap and drank directly from the bottle.
"Ah, this mead is delightful—strong enough to satisfy," he exclaimed, feeling the warmth spread through him. He struggled to loosen his shirt collar and quickly grabbed some smoked meat to quell the fiery sensation in his stomach before pouring some mead into a glass to savor it slowly.
Noticing that John seemed uninterested in mingling with the Actual Knights, a few ordinary knights gathered around him after discussing among themselves.
"Hello, I’m Eamon Hewitt, a knight," one of them introduced himself.
John regarded Eamon with a favorable impression; at least he didn’t appear like one of those oily types. The man had a distinctive face—if he stood next to a horse, people would likely notice his face before they noticed the horse's.
"Hello. What can I do for you?" John asked.
Eamon spoke cautiously, "We’d like to obtain some potions from you, if possible."
John set down his glass and began fiddling with a nearby knife.
Eamon realized his mistake and quickly changed his tone. "Could you sell us some potions, please?"
John, with a knife and fork in hand, slowly brought an apple to his mouth. After taking a bite, he began to chew.
Crunch, crunch.
After swallowing the apple, he paused for a moment before speaking. "Are you the leader of this group?"
"No, I'm just their representative," Eamon explained his position.
Understanding this, John waved him off. "I only speak with your leader. Send someone else over, thank you."
With a sigh of resignation, Eamon turned and walked back to his team.
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