Wes Elwin arrived in Hargeon—a bustling port city that drew ships from every direction.
Huge sails cast shadows across the shimmering waves, and the docks teemed with people constantly coming and going.
Hargeon itself wasn't known for frequent magical activity; encountering a wizard here was rare. Yet, the sight of magic-driven carriages and children playing with enchanted toys spoke volumes about the advanced level of magical civilization on the continent of Ishgar.
Magic had long become an indispensable part of daily life.
Wes asked a few friendly locals about stores that sold magical items and learned that in this busy city, there was only one such shop.
Following their directions, he soon found a narrow wooden door with a faded sign that read "Source of Magic."
He gently pushed open the door—so narrow that one had to turn sideways to enter.
Ding~
"Welcome!" a cheerful voice greeted him as the shopkeeper stepped out from behind the counter with a warm smile.
Wes glanced around. The store wasn't large—perhaps thirty square meters—but it was neatly organized.
The shelves were filled with all sorts of magical goods. Though their magical aura wasn't particularly strong, each item was curious and unique. Their designs differed greatly from the magical tools of the Harry Potter world, radiating a distinct mystique unique to Earth Land.
The shopkeeper looked like a sharp businessman. He subtly examined Wes, quickly realizing that this customer was no ordinary passerby.
Usually, those who wandered the store wide-eyed and hesitant were just curious onlookers. But someone as calm and composed as Wes clearly had a purpose—likely a serious buyer.
The man squinted with a sycophantic smile. "You seem unfamiliar, sir. Is this your first time in Hargeon?"
Wes nodded. "I heard this is the only magic shop here, so I came to take a look."
Upon hearing that, the shopkeeper's grin widened, every muscle on his face working hard to project enthusiasm. "Allow me to introduce our humble establishment! Though small, we have everything that might catch your eye. Whether it's magical tents for outdoor travel, temperature-adjusting illumination devices, or potions that enhance mana and heal injuries—we have it all!"
Wes' gaze drifted over the neatly arranged shelves. For such a small shop to carry so much variety—it spoke volumes about how advanced this world's magic was compared to the one he came from.
He carefully selected several dozen items, and with every one he picked, the shopkeeper's smile grew brighter.
(Wow! This guy's a walking gold mine! This one sale might match a whole month's revenue!)
But just as Wes was about to pay, he realized—his wallet didn't contain any of this world's currency.
He froze awkwardly, and the shopkeeper's smile stiffened. "Sir… don't tell me you forgot your money?"
After a moment's thought, Wes reached into his small travel pouch and pulled out a gleaming gold bar.
"Would you accept this instead?"
The shopkeeper's eyes lit up instantly. "Gold?! Of course, we accept that!"
After confirming the gold bar's authenticity, he quickly wrapped up the transaction, exchanged a stack of the local currency for Wes, and respectfully escorted him to the door, calling out warmly, "May you have a wonderful time in Hargeon!"
After leaving the shop, Wes headed straight for a finely decorated restaurant nearby. He chose a seat by the window, and the waiter soon brought out his meal—fresh lobster, creamy seafood risotto, and a delicate dessert.
Wes couldn't help but swallow a bit of saliva at the sight.
Just as he was about to savor the dishes, a short man wearing glasses and a strange mask sat down across from him without invitation.
Wes didn't even look up, his tone cool. "I believe there are other seats available."
"Hey, don't be so stingy, buddy," the man said with a slick, oily tone. "You ordered so much—you can't possibly finish it all alone."
His voice carried an irritating smugness that immediately made Wes frown.
"The dark wizards from the Black Forest—you dealt with them, didn't you? That caused me quite a bit of trouble," the man continued casually, not caring that people were glancing their way.
"You mean those five I killed in the forest?" Wes replied calmly.
The man blinked, momentarily surprised by how easily Wes admitted it, before letting out a creepy, high-pitched laugh. "Heh… sure, the Black Forest Guild was labeled a dark guild by the Council, but killing them all just like that? Hehehe…"
"Are you threatening me?" Wes finally looked up, his sharp eyes locking onto the man's.
"Oooh, scary," the man sneered, clearly unafraid. "You planning to fight here?"
At that, several nearby diners turned to watch nervously. After all, this restaurant was in one of Hargeon's busiest districts, and the Magic Council had strict laws forbidding wizards from fighting inside the city.
If a battle broke out here, Wes could easily end up on the Council's wanted list—but he wasn't someone who let others dictate his actions.
Suddenly, the wooden chair beneath the man seemed to come alive. Thick branches sprouted from its legs, twisting upward to bind his arms and legs tightly. The man struggled, eyes wide, but the vines only constricted further.
No one expected Wes to act so decisively—restraining a man in broad daylight, in a crowded restaurant, of all places.
"Oh~ oh~ bold move! Ignoring the Council's authority, are we? You're even more reckless than a dark guild mage!" the man jeered, voice muffled but mocking.
Wes didn't bother replying.
"You talk too much," he said flatly.
A soft vine slithered up behind the man and coiled around his face, sealing his mouth completely.
Then, as if nothing had happened, Wes calmly resumed his meal.
The disturbance drew the attention of the waitstaff and other customers. A nervous waiter approached cautiously. "S-sir… please don't use magic inside the restaurant."
"My apologies," Wes said gently, setting down his fork and knife.
Seeing his calm demeanor, the waiter exhaled in relief and hurried away.
Once the waiter was gone, Wes planned to finish eating before interrogating his mysterious uninvited guest.
However, something unexpected happened—the branches binding the man began to wither and loosen, as if undone by some counter-magic. Within moments, they vanished entirely, and the chair returned to normal.
"Hehe, mind getting me some utensils?" the man said cheerfully, raising his hand.
The waiter froze, glancing at Wes for permission. Wes nodded slightly, and the waiter reluctantly handed over a new set of utensils before retreating again.
When the meal ended, Wes stood up, paid the bill, and walked out of the restaurant. The masked man followed closely behind him.
°°°
Hungry for more chaps? Then check out our pătreon!
Link: Påtreon.com/BaphometFiction
I post 20 advanced chapters of this fanfic there.
If you do subscribe, please do so in the web patreon, not the ios app.
