The Verdant Merchant

He lingered for a moment longer, staring at the tilled soil as if he could already see trees sprouting, branches heavy with glowing apples or shimmering berries. His pulse quickened. Today he was going to the market and searching for fruit seeds he could afford.

"Alright," Rowen said firmly, brushing the dirt from his hands. "This empty patch will be for fruits.

Satisfied, Rowen picked up the baskets full of mature tomatoes and potatoes; he carefully separated the rare ones into another basket.

By the time he was done, the floor of the shed looked more like a small marketplace than a farm storage. Four baskets brimmed with plump, shiny tomatoes and firm potatoes—their glow faint but noticeable, the same common+ grade as before. Next to them, two smaller baskets held the rarer harvest. The vegetables inside almost pulsed with vitality, their colors deeper and richer, their skins flawless.

"Let's go," he said at last.

The portal shimmered open at his command, and Rowen stepped through.

Outside, morning sunlight greeted him. He hauled the baskets one by one from the portal space and set them carefully on the ground behind the shop. By the time he finished, sweat dotted his brow, but a sense of accomplishment filled his chest.

It was around 8:00 a.m. He still had work to do before opening the store, so Rowen turned toward the backyard.

The small plot of land behind the shop was where his grandfather had once grown herbs, though in recent years weeds had overtaken the soil. With determined movements, Rowen rolled up his sleeves and began clearing it. He pulled stubborn weeds from the ground, shook the dirt off their roots, and tossed them aside. The scent of fresh soil rose into the air, stirring a faint nostalgia. He could almost see his grandfather's bent figure tending to the same spot, humming under his breath.

Once the ground was cleared, Rowen fetched the simple farming tools that had belonged to his grandfather. The wooden handles were worn smooth from years of use, but they still held strong. He dug shallow rows, then carefully planted the tomato and potato seeds he had saved from the harvest.

As he worked, he activated his newly acquired Farmer Skill. A faint green glow spread across his hands and seeped into the soil. Unlike the flashy fireballs or sword auras of other awakened paths, a farmer's skill was quiet. It didn't destroy or defend—it nurtured. But Rowen felt its worth immediately as the soil seemed to drink in the energy, becoming richer and looser. The seeds responded too, giving off a tiny flicker of life force that reassured him they were settling well.

Farmers didn't have the combat firepower of knights or mages, but their ability to hasten crop growth and increase yields could support an entire community.

By the time he finished, it was already 9:00 a.m. He was later than usual. Normally, the shop would have been open by now, but the satisfaction of reclaiming the backyard outweighed the lost minutes.

Rowen dusted off his hands and returned inside. He carried the baskets of vegetables into the shop and arranged them neatly on the wooden shelves. The vibrant colors of the produce immediately brightened the small space, transforming the modest shop into something far more inviting.

A line of people stretched out in front of the shop. Dozens of them.

Students in their academy uniforms were clustered together, chatting excitedly. Some carried small pouches of mana stones at their waists, clearly ready to buy. Among them were a handful of elderly townsfolk, some holding the hands of younger children who craned their necks to peek toward the shop.

Rowen blinked, stunned. He had expected a few curious customers after word of his crops had spread, but this… this was something else entirely.

His hand froze on the door handle, and for a moment, he simply stared at the unexpected crowd.

"…What in the world?" He muttered under his breath.

Rowen paused behind the door, hand still on the latch. The sound outside was louder than he expected.

"Why isn't this damn shop open yet?" One male student grumbled.

"Patience. It's still early," another voice replied.

"Easy for you to say," the first snapped back. "If we're late again, everything will be gone."

The chatter rose and fell like waves. Some muttered complaints under their breath, while others stood quietly, trying not to lose their place in line.

Rowen's eyes drifted to the group of students near the front. He recognized a few faces from yesterday—the same ones who had left empty-handed when the baskets had run dry. Their eyes were ringed with dark circles, proof they hadn't slept much, but their posture was alert and tense, as if ready to sprint forward the moment the door cracked open. The eagerness on their faces was plain; it made Rowen's chest tighten with a mix of pride and unease.

He hadn't expected this.

Rowen drew a slow breath, steadying himself, and pulled the door open.

The crowd surged forward a step, chatter breaking into excitement as dozens of eyes fixed on the baskets stacked inside. Students, elderly folk, and townspeople alike craned their necks, trying to get the first look at the rare vegetables displayed neatly on the shelves.

"Finally!" someone exclaimed.

"Look, those must be the new ones—rare quality!" another pointed.

Rowen forced a polite smile as he stepped back to give them space. The morning sun spilled into the shop, lighting up the faint glow of the tomatoes and potatoes. Their shine seemed to draw people in like moths to a flame.

But as he watched the line push closer, Rowen started to think. Yesterday's harvest had been enough to make a splash, but today the crowd had doubled, maybe even tripled. His stock, no matter how neatly organized, suddenly looked small compared to the demand pressing at his doorway.

Rowen gave her a small nod and a polite, "Good morning," before stepping past the counter. He didn't linger on her expression, nor did he ask questions.

Instead, he reached for the neatly placed menu card on the side table—a simple list of seeds and produce the Wood family shop kept in stock. Running his fingers down the menu card, he began scanning the section labeled Fruit Seeds.

There were options like apple, pear, peach, grape, and even a few exotic ones such as citrus and berry varieties. Prices varied depending on how difficult they were to cultivate, with the rarer fruits costing nearly double the price of ordinary ones.

Rowen's eyes narrowed slightly as he weighed his choices.

His gaze stopped at the familiar fruit—apple. The card noted:

Apple Seed Packet – 2 Low Grade Mana Stones.

Rowen raised his brows slightly. The price wasn't outrageous, especially compared to the rarer fruits listed below, some of which cost 5 or even 8 stones per packet. Still, he quietly measured it against his current earnings.

Apples were popular, easy to recognize, and always in demand, whether eaten fresh or sold for juice. What really stirred his curiosity, though, was how the apples grown in his space would differ from ordinary apples sold in the town.

Rowen reached into his pouch and took out two low-grade mana stones, placing them on the counter. "Please give me one packet of these apple seeds," he said to the receptionist.

The young woman glanced at the stones, then at him, and quickly packed the seeds with a polite nod.

The receptionist handed over the small packet of apple seeds. Rowen carefully tucked it into his bag before turning to leave the shop. After paying for it, he was now left with a total of 39 low-grade mana stones.

After buying the apple seed, Rowen didn't rush to his shop, but he had a different goal this time.

Rowen now had quite the money. This part of town was the nearest area to the upper district, where most wealthy families and talented students lived. After some thought, he decided to visit and see what it looked like. More than curiosity, he wanted to find out which additional path he could take now that he could absorb mana. Mage, Knight, or Tamer—he didn't know yet which would suit him, but seeing the difference with his own eyes might help him decide.

There was a building in the upper district called Cornerstone. Every city had one, built and funded directly by the federal government. Everset City's Cornerstone was no different.

The Cornerstone wasn't just a symbol of order—it was built to administer and protect the city. The staff there handled records, disputes, and trade permissions, but most importantly, they kept the federal government's presence visible even this far from the capital. For the awakened, the building also served another purpose. It was where one could request guidance, report monster sightings, and even receive basic information about paths like mage, knight, or tamer.

Anyone could step inside. Whether commoner or noble, awakened or not, the Cornerstone was meant to be a neutral place. The soldiers stationed there ensured discipline, while clerks and record keepers answered questions.