The next week passed in a jiffy.
Leon spent most of his time practicing his practicing his Dark Firebolt. His Necromancy progression, which was at level 50, slowly inched up, going up to 80/100.
As for the Stardew Beads, he did not plan to make many in the first place. He made about 10 of them in total, and infused all of them with a small drop of his magic. The results were out-worldly beads which seemed to have a galaxy trapped within them.
He had also produced some nice, polished boxes at the local carpenter to keep them in.
"They are so beautiful, Leon," Kira said, floating around him as he packed them each in a separate box, "Are you really going to sell all of them?"
"Don't worry. This is just glass. Later, I will make many more beautiful things for you." Leon assured her, sensing that Kira had taken a liking to these beads.
"Yay. My husband still loves me the best." Kira beamed.
On the 7th day, Gerold, the old potter, finally came to meet Leon in the kiln.
"Young Master, the approvals are obtained. We can go and set up a shop today."
"Great, let's go tomorrow then." Leon nodded, his face showing a slight smile, "However, remember, you have to follow my lead there. Do not say or do anything. Let me handle everything."
"Of course."
---------------
The next morning Gerold pushed a rickety cart into the bustling town square, which doubled as the main market. Leon and Elspeth walked beside him. They found an empty spot between a boisterous seller of "genuine" monster claws and a woman selling faded tapestries.
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," sneered the monster claw vendor, a portly man with a greasy mustache. "Finally decided to sell your collection of cracked pots, Gerold?"
"Leave him be, Gary," the tapestry seller sighed. "We all have to make a living."
"With what? Dust?" Gary laughed, gesturing at Gerold's humble setup. "The old man hasn't sold anything worth more than a few coppers in years."
Gerold's face flushed with shame, but Leon placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "Pay them no mind," he said loudly. "Today will be different."
"Who are you, young brat? How dare you talk to me like that?" Gary immediately flared up.
"I am Leon Valerius. The son of Godric Valerius." Leon said calmly.
"Ah, I see. You are the idiot who was roaming the entire town for a workshop to rent, weren't you? So you teamed up with this old man? Makes sense. A loser of a noble family collaborating with the worst craftsman in the city. What a combination, hahaha." Gary burst out laughing. The woman on the other side just shook her head.
"Why don't you show us what you deadly duo have for sale? Maybe we can widen our horizons?" Gary sneered after his hearty laugh.
However, Leon started ignoring them. With an unhurried grace, Leon began placing the small, identical wooden boxes in a neat row on their stall. He didn't open them.
This act drew even more laughter. "Is that it?" Another nearby merchant roared. "A bunch of wooden pieces? Has the Valerius family's mad son finally lost his mind completely?"
Leon simply stood behind the stall, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Kira floated beside him, invisible to all. "Leon, they are all laughing at you," she whispered into his mind, her voice laced with anger.
"Patience, Kira," Leon replied mentally. "Let them laugh. It will make our success all the sweeter."
For the next couple of hours, people passed by their stall without a second glance. Even the old man Gerold started to lose hope, seeing that not a single person came to even sample the goods.
"Master, should we open some of the boxes? Maybe that will attract some customers?" He asked Leon in a soft voice.
"Patience, Mr. Gerold. There is no rush," Leon said, gently fanning himself. "What we are looking for is not to attract every customer, but the correct customer. That is the only way."
"Whatever you say..." Gerold looked a bit deflated. Leon shook his head, and continued fanning himself.
However, they did not have to wait for a long time.
Soon, a new figure entered the market square, drawing the attention of every merchant. He was a man dressed in fine silks, his clothes clearly tailored for travel but made of fabrics far richer than anything found locally. A stern-looking attendant followed a step behind him.
"Master Mordor," the attendant said, his voice low and weary, "we have been to every reputable shop in Ashyn. There is nothing here worthy of the Lady."
The man, Master Mordor, sighed. "I had hoped to find a unique souvenir for my wife on this trip. Something special. But it all seems so… common."
The hawkers swarmed him instantly. "Sir! A genuine Griffon claw! A symbol of strength!" Gary yelled, shoving a claw in his face. "A hand-woven tapestry, sir! Tells the story of the First King!" the woman cried.
The man politely waved them all away, his expression one of growing disappointment. "Thank you, but no. It's not what I'm looking for."
Just as he turned to leave the square, Leon's voice cut through the market chatter, calm and clear.
"Sir. If you seek something truly unique, you should not leave just yet."
The man stopped. His attendant spun around, his eyes narrowing at Leon's humble stall. "You dare address my master? With what? A collection of wooden blocks?" he sneered, his anger palpable. "Do not waste our time, boy."
Leon ignored the attendant completely, his gaze fixed on the merchant. "I promise you, sir," he said with absolute certainty, "if you walk away now without seeing what is in these boxes, you will regret it for the rest of your journey."
The merchant's attendant was about to lash out again, but his master held up a hand, silencing him and looked at Leon with amused eyes.
The boy's sheer, unshakable confidence was intriguing. In his line of work, he had learned that true treasures were sometimes found in the most unassuming of places.
"Very well, boy," the merchant said, his eyes sharp and assessing. "Show me what is so special that it warrants such a bold claim."