The red Crystal Stone seemed somewhat eerie, so Roland had always kept it on his person.
Although he wasn't sure how Bronson had sensed its existence through his clothes, now that the man had discovered it, Roland felt there was no point in hiding it any longer.
Besides, he had his own questions about the Crystal Stone's origin.
After all, the sight of that Bloodscale Dogman inexplicably bursting into flames was so bizarre that the memory still left him feeling unsettled.
Shaking his head slightly to dispel the image floating in his mind, Roland reached into his clothes, took out the Crystal Stone, and slowly held it out.
"Mr. Bronson... is this... what you were talking about?"
"This... How is this possible?"
Bronson's pupils contracted, his gaze fixed on the Crystal Stone as a whirlwind of emotions washed over his face.
It went from initial confusion to incredulous shock, finally settling into deep suspicion.
"Pardon my forwardness…"
He took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly.
"May I take a closer look, Roland?"
"Of course, Mr. Bronson."
With Roland's permission, Bronson took the red Crystal Stone with slightly trembling hands. He suppressed the storm of shock raging within him and carefully turned the stone over, his gaze focused as he examined its every facet.
A moment later, he suddenly stopped and frowned deeply.
The texture and luster of this Crystal Stone were identical to a description he had read in the tomes of the High Tower in his youth.
"Where did you find this?"
Bronson asked, his voice dry as he deliberately tried to keep it steady.
"From a Mutant Dogman…"
Roland recounted the day's events, omitting a few details and keeping his explanation brief.
When he mentioned the Scales and the Flame, he noticed a subtle change in Bronson's expression.
"Scales... Flame…"
Bronson mumbled to himself, head bowed, his fingers unconsciously stroking the Crystal Stone's surface.
"Mr. Bronson…"
Seeing him so lost in thought, Roland couldn't help but frown.
"What exactly is this Crystal Stone?"
"Hah…"
Bronson let out a long sigh. When he slowly raised his head, the turmoil in his eyes had subsided.
He pursed his lips, as if choosing his words carefully.
After a moment of contemplation, he explained softly.
"This is a crystal of solidified Magic Elements."
"Magic Elements?"
The unfamiliar term left Roland confused.
But Bronson didn't elaborate. Instead, he handed the red Crystal Stone back, a faint, forced smile on his lips.
"Come inside…"
He turned and walked into the house, his voice laced with an undeniable weariness.
"I doubt you came all this way just to ask about that Crystal Stone, did you?"
Roland could only set aside his questions for the moment and follow him into the room.
The door closed softly behind him. The dim, yellow candlelight flickered in the small space, casting their two shadows on the mottled walls.
Roland unwrapped the package he was carrying in his left hand, took out the uniquely shaped Dagger, and presented it with both hands.
"Mr. Bronson, the Dagger you commissioned me to forge is complete."
"Oh?"
Bronson, who had been sitting in his chair massaging his temples, suddenly looked up. He carefully took the Dagger and examined it closely by the faint candlelight.
When he looked up again, his weary eyes were shining with disbelief.
"I had assumed Mr. Hawke's praise for you was mere exaggeration, but I never expected…"
His fingers gently traced the intricate patterns on the Dagger's central cylinder.
"To think you could finish the forging in less than two months, and these patterns…"
Bronson's voice trembled slightly, a rare look of excitement flashing across his face.
"Did you carve these all by hand?"
"Of course, Mr. Bronson…"
Sensing Bronson's odd reaction, Roland frowned and instinctively took half a step back.
"Is there… something wrong with the patterns?"
"No, quite the opposite. They're too perfect…"
As if realizing he'd lost his composure, Bronson took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down, though his fingers continued to unconsciously stroke the patterns on the Dagger.
"I just… I didn't expect you to be capable of this."
Silence filled the dim room.
A moment later, Bronson suddenly looked up, an indescribable longing flickering in his eyes.
"Roland, what do you say we make another deal?"
"A deal?"
"Just like last time."
Bronson licked his chapped lips.
"My research has hit a bottleneck recently, and I find myself in need of an assistant. In exchange, I can answer all of your questions about that Magic Power Crystal, and what's more…"
When Roland didn't respond immediately, he shot up from his chair and stumbled over to a bookshelf in the corner.
He began to roughly rifle through yellowed parchments and ancient tomes, sending dust dancing in the candlelight.
In the blink of an eye, a stack of yellowed ancient tomes was piled in front of Roland.
The covers of the books were faded and covered in a spiderweb of cracks. The engraved text looked like twisted tadpoles, completely different from the orderly script of the Golden Valley Kingdom's common tongue.
Roland squinted and could just barely make out the word "Theory" among the strange symbols.
"As for me…"
A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched Bronson's lips.
"The only thing I really have to offer is that I've read a few more dusty old books than the average person."
He raised his bloodshot eyes, his voice tinged with a pleading earnestness.
"So, if you're willing to be my assistant for a time, I will answer all of your questions without reservation. What do you say to that deal?"
He gently stroked the ancient tomes and continued.
"These are books I have treasured for a long time. Believe me, the knowledge within them will be of great help to you."
Roland fell silent.
The candlelight danced in his dark brown pupils, reflecting his inner struggle.
Objectively speaking, it might not seem like a good deal to anyone else.
But for Roland, at this moment, it was a lifeline.
Ever since he'd inexplicably crossed over into this world, all the body's original owner had left him was a malnourished frame and the useless status of a Free Person.
He was completely in the dark, forced to piece together a basic understanding of this world from scraps of conversation he overheard.
His original plan had been to get a firm footing first, then slowly explore this strange new world.
But his encounter with the Kobolds had completely shattered that naive idea.
The incident had made him realize that this world was likely far more dangerous than he had imagined. He probably wouldn't have the luxury of time to figure things out slowly.
As for Bronson's erudite nature, Roland was already well aware of it from the time he had spent as his student.
Having made up his mind, Roland looked up and asked seriously.
"So, Mr. Bronson... as your assistant, what exactly would my duties be?"
"The work itself is very simple!"
Seeing Roland agree, Bronson unconsciously rubbed his hands together, a flash of unconcealable joy in his eyes.
He straightened his perpetually stooped back slightly, and a rare spark of life appeared on his usually downcast face.
"But before that…"
He said, gesturing to the red Crystal Stone in Roland's palm.
"I believe… I should first answer your questions about this Magic Power Crystal."
Bronson cleared his throat and began to explain in a steady voice.
"Roland, I'm sure you've read about beings called Wizards in popular stories, haven't you?"
"Of course."
After receiving the affirmative reply, Bronson continued.
"Wizards are most famous for their wondrous and uncanny Magic, but…"
He lightly tapped his knuckles on the wooden table, the crisp sound punctuating his words as he spoke.
"Casting Magic requires drawing Magic Elements from the environment. However, hundreds of years ago, the Magic Elements of the world suddenly and inexplicably vanished. And with that, Wizards as a whole faded from sight…"
"Then this Crystal Stone…"
Hearing this, Roland immediately opened his palm to reveal the faintly glowing red Crystal Stone.
He clearly remembered that Bronson had indeed called it…
A crystal of solidified Magic Elements.