The Verdant Merchant-Chapter 119: i will update

Cedric pulled a low-grade mana stone from his pocket, the faint blue light humming in his palm. He dropped it onto the counter with a dull clink, then reached over and plucked one of the tomatoes from the wooden shelf.

He exhaled slowly, realizing the change, though his pride resisted admitting it.

Alric leaned closer. "Cedric?"

He reached forward and snatched another one off the shelf before Cedric could protest.

Rowen’s gaze flicked to him briefly, but he said nothing.

Alric turned the tomato over in his hand as if inspecting it for hidden tricks. Then, without warning, he bit down hard.

Crunch.

Juice spilled over his lips and slid down his throat. He grimaced at the sourness, ready to scoff

but his words caught in his mouth.

A strange silence filled his head. The usual impatience buzzing in his thoughts quieted, like a roaring crowd suddenly silenced. His shoulders eased without him realizing, and his sharp gaze steadied. For a brief moment, his whole body felt lighter, as though the constant tension of vigilance had loosened.

Alric froze, tomato in hand, his eyes flicking from Cedric to Rowen.

Cedric gave him a knowing look, still chewing slowly. "Told you."

Marn’s brows rose, impressed, while Talia’s arms remained crossed, though a trace of satisfaction touched her expression.

Rowen just stood behind the counter, calm, offering no gloating word, only watching as Alric struggled to swallow both the tomato and his pride.

Alric lowered the half-eaten tomato slowly, his jaw tight. For a moment, no words came. He glanced at Cedric, who was still holding his own fruit, chewing with a reluctant frown that couldn’t hide the focus in his eyes.

The two exchanged a look half disbelief, half shame.

They had walked in ready to tear down a boy, only to be silenced by a tomato.

Alric cleared his throat, his voice rough. "...If he’s charging only two low-grade mana stones for three of these, then..." He hesitated, swallowing his pride along with the lingering taste of tomato. "...That’s cheap. Dirt cheap compared to a potion that can grant this level of focus."

Cedric’s face darkened with embarrassment, but he gave a small, curt nod. "A potion with even half this effect costs more than ten times that. And lasts shorter."

Marn exhaled softly, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and respect. Talia, meanwhile, allowed herself the faintest smirk, her eyes sliding toward Rowen like she already knew how this would play out.

Rowen said nothing. He simply wiped the counter with a rag, calm and steady, as though their realization was nothing more than the natural course of events.

The silence that followed wasn’t hostile anymore; it was heavy with their embarrassment.

Talia stepped closer to the shelf, her sharp eyes catching on a cluster of tomatoes that looked noticeably different. Their skin was deeper in shade, almost glowing faintly under the lamplight, and the faint pulse of mana in them was stronger than what Cedric had just eaten.

She tilted her head, then glanced at Rowen.

"This one..." she said, pointing lightly toward the darker tomato. "It’s new, isn’t it?"

Rowen looked up, meeting her gaze. For the first time in the entire exchange, there was a small shift in his expression not pride, not arrogance, but something quieter. "Yes. It’s from a newer batch. Stronger than the last one you had purchased."

Talia finally reached out and lifted the rare tomato from the shelf. Its skin was smooth and warm from the mana within, the deeper red color.

Without hesitation, she bit into it.

Moments later, her breathing slowed. Her shoulders relaxed, yet her presence grew sharper, more controlled.

"...Stronger," she finally said, her voice calm but edged with certainty. "Much stronger. Comparable to last time."

Marn, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. He hesitated, his eyes darting to Rowen. "May I?"

Rowen gave a small nod.

Marn picked one of the regular tomatoes, still skeptical despite what he’d just seen. He took a bite.

For a moment, his expression stayed doubtful, but then his eyes widened slightly. His posture straightened, and he gave a low exhale.

"This... this level of clarity of mind..." His voice was quiet, almost reverent. "I’ve never had my thoughts settle so quickly. Not even with high-grade potions."

Cedric and Alric exchanged glances, both silent, their earlier mockery completely stripped away.

Rowen pulled out another tomato from his space, the fresh scent calming his restless mind. He bit into it, letting the faint surge of focus wash over him.

Alright... Let’s try again.

This time, instead of forcing only earth, he reached out for something different—the gentle, vibrant flow of wood element mana. Unlike the heaviness of earth, this one felt alive, almost like sap coursing through unseen roots. When he drew it in, a soothing green warmth mingled with the solid brown strength already within him.

For a moment, they resonated. The two forces didn’t clash; instead, they wrapped around each other like tree roots gripping soil. Inside his body, the outline of his mana ring grew brighter and steadier than before.

Rowen’s eyes widened. It’s working!

But just as his excitement peaked, cracks spread across the fragile ring. The green and brown energies wavered, unable to hold under his unstable control. After nearly two minutes, the whole construct shattered with a painful recoil, leaving his chest aching.

"Damn it..." he muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. His breathing was ragged, his clothes damp. Two minutes was progress, but nowhere near enough.

Rowen leaned back against the wall, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. His head still rang from the collapse of the last attempt. Reaching into his space again, he pulled out a few tomatoes. The familiar taste steadied his focus, pushing back the haze of exhaustion.

"...One more try," he muttered.

He closed his eyes and reached for the flow of air element mana. Compared to earth’s heaviness and wood’s steady vitality, air was light and elusive—like chasing the wind with bare hands. The moment he tugged on it, the faint streams of green and brown inside him shifted, making room for the pale silver threads of air.

At first, it felt chaotic. The solidity of earth, the growth of wood, and the freedom of air spun together in a messy spiral. His whole body tensed as if it might rip apart. But slowly, almost painfully, he forced them to align soil-supporting roots, roots swaying with the breeze.

A flickering three-colored ring formed inside him, more stable than before. Rowen’s heartbeat raced.

This is it... It’s holding.

For nearly three minutes, the ring glowed faintly. Then the air element slipped loose, the balance shattered, and the structure collapsed with a sharp jolt that knocked the breath out of him.

Rowen clutched his chest, grimacing. "Three minutes... that’s all?"

He had made progress, but it was clear the path forward would demand more than stubbornness.

Rowen wiped the sweat from his brow, forcing his breathing to steady. His body still ached from the last collapse, but he wasn’t ready to quit yet. After a brief rest, he sat cross-legged again.

Rowen sat quietly, trying to steady the fragile flow of mana. He only meant to focus on air, but the moment the wind’s threads twined into his ring, another element stirred on its own.

Fire.

He hadn’t reached for it, yet fire answered anyway—a sudden, hungry surge that pressed against him like a beast demanding to be let in.

Rowen’s eyes snapped open in alarm, but it was too late. The crimson threads rushed toward him, slipping past his defenses and forcing themselves into the incomplete ring.

The warmth quickly grew into a searing blaze. His veins burned, his chest felt tight, and every breath came with heat like swallowing smoke. He tried to push it back, but the fire element locked into place, claiming its spot beside earth, wood, and air.

For a moment, the ring pulsed brighter than ever, as though this was how it was always meant to be. His body thrummed with power, hot and wild, and he almost believed he could hold it.

But then the balance shattered. The fire mana surged too strongly, drowning the others. The unstable ring cracked apart with a violent backlash.

Rowen gasped, coughing hard, his vision swimming. A thin line of blood traced down from the corner of his mouth. "I... didn’t even... call for fire..." he muttered weakly, staring at his trembling hands.

It hadn’t been like earth, wood, or air. Those, he had reached for, tested, and fought to hold. Fire was different. It hadn’t waited for permission. It had forced its way in, wild and unrelenting.

His stomach growled, breaking the tense silence. With a shaky hand, Rowen pulled a sack from his storage space and took out a few potatoes. Unlike the refreshing tang of tomatoes, potatoes carried a different effect—one he knew could help steady his body for sustained focus.