Although Sollivan found it extremely difficult to maintain his composure upon seeing the old woman, as it brought back painful memories buried deep in his heart, he nevertheless stood near the reception desk and observed her closely out of curiosity. He had never seen her visit their shop before.
Six years ago, just a few days before winter arrived, his entire family was wiped out, and he was left with severe injuries that nearly cost him his life. Had it not been for his uncle, Leonard Winglet, who spared no effort to save him, he wouldn’t be alive today. Leonard sold all the possessions of Sollivan’s deceased family and used the money to buy expensive medicines to save him. However, all he could do was barely keep him alive, leaving him paralyzed and having lost a significant portion of his vitality, meaning he wouldn’t live long.
During that time, Leonard suffered from deep depression and indescribable grief, accompanied by a constant fear that the assassins of his brother would return to finish off his nephew. After much thought, he declared Sollivan dead and decided to sever ties with him to ensure his safety. However, his conscience didn’t allow him to abandon Sollivan completely, so he entrusted him to his oldest servant and her grandson. He gave them two hundred gold coins and gave Sollivan the remaining sixty gold coins from his family’s fortune, instructing them to go far away and start a new life.
Every time Sollivan remembered the long journey he endured in the bitter winter cold, burdened by his injuries and the pain in his heart, he felt an indescribable bitterness and humiliation.
Sigh...
Upon seeing the old woman’s clear skin, a sign of her prosperous and wealthy life, he cursed inwardly.
’Damn old woman... She took all the money my uncle gave her to help me and used it to build a residential complex in the poor district and a hotel inside the city. She earns hundreds of silver coins annually but only gives me two silver coins each month. I don’t know if it’s out of pity or fear that my uncle might find out she abandoned me. But whatever her motives, it doesn’t change the fact that she broke her promise and left me to rot and freeze in a dilapidated room in the poor district.’
He didn’t let his bitter memories continue to bother him and calmed himself with difficulty. As he did so, he heard the old woman’s annoying voice.
"Do you buy books?" Her tone was condescending and full of arrogance.
Hmph. ’Miserly wretch...’ He muttered under his breath and showed a disgusted expression, but Ellis, on the other hand, handled the awkward situation professionally and replied.
"Yes, madam. We buy books, but it depends on the content and quality."
"Very well."
The old woman took out a book with a thick, pitch-black cover made of hundreds of pages from a small linen bag and placed it on the desk.
The strange book piqued Sollivan’s curiosity, but he couldn’t see its details clearly due to his low position and the distance.
Even Ellis seemed interested as he picked up the book and examined it. At that moment, the old woman began speaking, trying to emphasize its value.
"This book was left by an Arcane who stayed at my inn. That scoundrel paid for a full year’s rent but disappeared for half a year. He must have died in the war. In the end, we had to open his room, and all we found was this book. It’s clearly something very valuable."
"Its value will be determined after examination."
Ellis replied indifferently and opened the book, then asked with displeasure, "This book is written in a strange language."
Upon hearing this, Sollivan quickly pushed his chair toward the reception desk, ignoring the old woman, who took a step aside and quickly retorted, trying to justify her position.
"The language isn’t important, but it’s very valuable! It belonged to an Arcane master; surely it’s a combat arts book."
Ellis’s expression grew more displeased, and he complained in a clear tone, "Even if it’s a combat arts book, it won’t be of any use if it’s written in an unknown language like this."
"Let me see."
Sollivan interrupted the discussion with a voice full of curiosity, making Ellis glance at him for a moment before handing him the book.
As soon as Sollivan held the book, he was surprised by its weight, as his hands slightly dropped under the unexpected heaviness. His eyes widened slightly, and his confusion grew when he smelled the book’s strange scent.
The cover was pitch black, as he had seen before, but up close, he noticed raised decorations surrounding the frame. In the center of the cover was a symbol with a specific shape protruding from the surface, with a rough texture like stone.
After feeling the book for a moment, he opened it and began reading the blood-red writing on the first page. In astonishment, he asked aloud, "What is this?"
Ellis looked at him and said, "You see, the written language is very strange and random."
Sollivan fell silent and didn’t respond, his focus remaining on the ancient characters. But unlike Ellis, his astonishment wasn’t just due to the strangeness of the characters but also because he felt a vague familiarity with them. A nervous look appeared on his face. ’I’ve seen characters like these before.’ He focused his gaze on one of the characters, and after a brief moment of thought, he remembered its meaning. ’This symbolizes the letter (b). However, he couldn’t decipher the rest of the symbols.’
Despite the vastness of the world Sollivan knew, he was aware that the number of languages was very small, as most humans spoke the common language, while the rest were either ancient or rare. And despite the age and experience gap between him and Ellis, his knowledge in this field was broader.
While Ellis focused on reading literature, poetry, and urban history, Sollivan’s interest lay in everything strange and mysterious, especially in the fields of medicine, languages, myths, and lost artifacts.
This interest stemmed from his desire and hope to find a recipe or ingredient that could heal him and restore his destroyed vein.
After browsing the book for about three minutes, Sollivan shook his head in disappointment and said to the old woman, "This book is worthless. It’s definitely not a combat arts book."
Ellis added, "The book won’t be of any use to us, but I’ll buy it for one silver coin because of its strange leather cover."
A deep frown appeared on the old woman’s face, and she complained in a loud, annoying voice, "What kind of cheap price is this? Are you trying to scam me?"
In fact, she knew the book was useless. She had previously shown it to her grandson, who worked in the city’s joint guard forces, and he told her it was worthless. Yet, she insisted on selling it at a high price.
Her hateful words stirred Ellis’s displeasure, so he took the book from Sollivan’s hands and returned it to her, saying coldly, "Here, take your book and find another place to sell it."
The old woman’s lips twisted arrogantly, and she looked at them with indignation. She picked up the book and was about to curse, but Sollivan’s voice interrupted her.
"I’ll buy the book for two silver coins."
The old woman was surprised, and Ellis was stunned. After a brief moment of thought, she raised three fingers and said, "I want three silver coins."
But Sollivan didn’t react and replied coldly, "Two coins. Take it or leave it."
Hmph!
The old woman placed the book on the reception desk under Ellis’s helpless gaze and said arrogantly, "Pay!"
Without looking at her, Sollivan turned his chair. "No need to pay this month’s dues. Take it as payment for the book."
Upon hearing these words, Ellis’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and he stared at Sollivan’s back with eyes full of confusion. Several questions flooded his mind. ’Dues? Do they know each other? But...’
He quickly turned and looked at the old woman, who snorted in displeasure and left angrily.
Sigh!
He froze for a moment, then set the book aside for Sollivan to take later. In a low voice, he muttered, "So many secrets."
They had worked together for several years, but he literally knew nothing about Sollivan, especially regarding his family and surname. However, he didn’t dwell on it, as he deeply understood that everyone had their own circumstances.
...
In a quiet corner of the library, behind a shelf crowded with books, Sollivan sat relaxed and closed his eyes calmly, thinking in confusion. ’Where have I seen you before?’
He opened his eyes and looked at the library ceiling with a complex expression. "I’m sure I’ve seen this writing before, but where? Is there something similar in my house?" His confusion grew, and he felt a strong urge to return home to check the pile of books and manuscripts he had collected over the years in search of answers. But the thought of arousing Ellis’s concern or even making him suspicious of his intentions stopped him.
"This is extremely annoying." He sighed in exhaustion and closed his eyes again, trying to calm himself. His body relaxed, and he drifted into a peaceful nap.
...
After an hour of restful sleep, he finally opened his eyes and heard and saw several customers in the place, realizing he had slept for a long time.
"I think Ellis regrets his suggestion now," he thought with a faint smile before adjusting his hair and wiping his face to remove the traces of sleep. Then he quietly wheeled his chair toward the aisle, where he noticed a man in his early thirties with a noble appearance and elegant clothes standing in front of a shelf, carefully examining the books.
Sollivan turned his head toward the reception desk, where Ellis was busy serving customers, then wheeled his chair toward the man and spoke in a respectful tone.
"How may I assist you, sir?"
The man turned slowly and looked at Sollivan with slightly surprised eyes. Then he replied calmly, "I’m looking for historical books about the period before the empires."
"Do you mean the history of the Great Empire?"
"Yes."
Sollivan wheeled his chair toward a nearby shelf and began carefully examining the titles. After a brief moment, he picked up a thick book with a faded cover and handed it to the man. "The period you’re asking about is rarely documented. This book contains all the remaining recorded information about that era."
"Is the information reliable?" The man took the book and asked curiously.
"Not really. Most of what’s written is just myths and theories."
Historical books and records weren’t easy to obtain or find, and the few accurate books available were owned by powerful and ancient families with histories spanning hundreds of years or kept in the imperial library, which only a select few could access. Therefore, most books circulating among the public were unreliable.
"Understood." The man nodded with narrowed eyes and asked for more books. After Sollivan guided him to purchase what he wanted, he turned to another customer, a simple lumberjack seeking advice about some herbs.
The shop was unusually crowded because autumn was nearing its end, and people were preparing for winter by buying their basic necessities, including books as a form of entertainment.
After long hours of work, all the customers left, and the shop was closed. Sollivan finally sat down and enjoyed the quiet, while Ellis was busy reviewing the accounts.
"I’ll leave now," Sollivan said as he wheeled his chair toward the reception desk.
Then he looked at Ellis, who was engrossed in the accounts, and joked, "It seems you’ll be staying here for a while."
Ellis responded with a sarcastic snort, then picked up two books—one very old and the other completely new and clean—and pushed them toward Sollivan with a mocking smile. "It seems you have a long night of copying ahead of you. As for me, I’ll sleep as soon as I get back." He paused for a moment before remembering.
"You almost forgot this."
He took out the black book and gave it to Sollivan, who placed it in his bag along with the other books and left. As soon as he stepped outside, a cold breeze made him shiver. He raised his head and looked at the sky, which was gradually darkening as sunset approached, while dark clouds gathered on the horizon.
’The weather is getting colder.’
He wheeled his chair through the familiar alleys, which were gradually covered in shadows, until he reached his neighborhood just as the evening bell rang. As his eyes passed over the houses, they finally stopped at the threshold of his home, where a mysterious figure stood due to the poor lighting.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he felt a bit of anxiety, but he soon relaxed when he recognized the person near his door.