chapter 84 meeting Malthor

A Meeting in the Shadows – Kaelith & Malthor at the Tavern

The streets of Greenhaven bustled with energy. Players shouted as they formed parties, merchants haggled loudly, and city guards kept a wary eye on the growing chaos.

Kaelith moved through the crowd like a ghost, his Trickster's Mask still concealing his true name. His reputation remained unknown, a mere shadow amidst the sea of adventurers.

He had just posted 50 healing potions in the Auction House, each priced strategically at 50 silver starting bid, 70 silver buyout. A calculated move—he knew players would soon flock to buy them. But that wasn't his concern right now.

His true destination?

The Rusty Anvil Tavern.

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The Rusty Anvil Tavern

The tavern's wooden doors creaked open as Kaelith stepped inside. The moment he entered, the thick scent of ale, sweat, and old wood hit him.

The place was packed.

A group of rowdy adventurers sat in a corner, laughing drunkenly over their latest dungeon run. A hooded figure whispered in hushed tones to a rogue, likely negotiating a black-market deal. At the far end, a bard strummed his lute lazily, his song drowned out by the surrounding noise.

Kaelith's eyes scanned the room.

And there he was.

Malthor.

The old merchant sat alone at a dimly lit table, away from the center of attention. He was dressed differently today—a deep brown cloak covering his usual tattered trader robes. His silver hair, once slicked back neatly, now hung loose, giving him the appearance of a seasoned traveler rather than a mere merchant.

But Kaelith knew better.

Malthor wasn't just a merchant. He was a con artist, a master manipulator who preyed on players' greed and desperation. And tonight, Kaelith had become his accomplice.

With a smirk, Kaelith strode forward and sat across from him.

Malthor didn't even look up. Instead, he swirled his drink slowly before muttering, "Sit."

Kaelith leaned back in his chair. "You called me here, old man. I assume it wasn't just for drinks?"

Malthor finally glanced up, his sharp eyes gleaming with amusement.

"I saw your little stunt at the Auction House," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "Players scrambling to join Pink Solutions while you slipped away unnoticed. Clever."

Kaelith smirked. "And I saw you playing the helpless old merchant in the town square."

Malthor chuckled, finally taking a sip of his ale. "Fools are useful. They pay me in silver, work for free, and think they're winning."

Kaelith tapped his fingers on the wooden table. "And yet, you called me here. That means you need something."

Malthor's grin faded slightly. He set his mug down, eyes narrowing.

"I need a shadow."

Kaelith raised an eyebrow. "A shadow?"

Malthor leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "The bandits aren't my enemies."

Kaelith's expression didn't change, but inside, his mind clicked. Of course.

Malthor wasn't just scamming players. He was working with the very bandits he claimed to be terrified of.

"This town is a goldmine of desperate players and gullible fools," Malthor continued. "But I need someone who can move where I cannot. Someone who isn't tied to my reputation."

Kaelith's fingers drummed against the table. "And what's in it for me?"

Malthor smirked. "More than just silver. I reward those who play the game well."

With that, he slid a small, folded parchment across the table.

Kaelith picked it up without drawing attention. He unfolded it beneath the table, eyes scanning the single word written inside:

Lark.

A slow grin spread across Kaelith's face.

So that's how it was.

Pink Solutions' Greenhaven Manager, Lark—the very same man who had once enslaved him with a contract in his previous life—was Malthor's next target.

Kaelith folded the parchment again, slipping it into his sleeve.

"Interesting," he murmured.

Malthor raised his mug in mock toast. "Then let the real game begin."

Kaelith lifted his own empty hand, mirroring the gesture.

The deal was struck.

And the city of Greenhaven had no idea what was coming.

The tavern bustled with noise—clinking mugs, drunken laughter, and the occasional argument over a lost bet. But in the farthest, dimmest corner, where shadows stretched long against the wooden walls, Kaelith and Malthor sat face to face.

Malthor leaned back in his chair, his usual sly smirk present. His fingers tapped idly on the table as he watched Kaelith with sharp, assessing eyes. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached inside his tattered cloak and pulled out a rolled-up parchment.

Aged. Worn. Slightly tattered at the edges.

He placed it on the table between them with a satisfying thump.

Kaelith's gaze flickered down, recognizing instantly that this wasn't a mere system-generated recipe. Handwritten, in neat, flowing script—an original formula.

Malthor tapped a finger against the parchment, his smirk deepening.

"Agility Potion. A rare little concoction. Drink it, and your agility jumps by +10 for five seconds. No drawbacks, no tricks."

Kaelith remained silent, but his mind was already racing. A temporary boost of +10 agility? Potions like this were always in high demand, especially for assassins, archers, and speed-based fighters.

A burst of speed could mean dodging a fatal strike. It could mean landing the final blow before an opponent reacted. In a battle, five seconds was an eternity.

Malthor watched him, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Interested?" he mused. "This isn't something you'll find at your average apothecary."

Kaelith reached forward and unrolled the parchment, scanning the ingredients list.

[Agility Potion Recipe]

Swiftvine Extract – A rare herb that only grows in Moonlit Groves.

Crimson Beetle Fluid – Extracted from the elusive Bloodwing Beetles.

Alchemical Catalyst (Refined) – A processed material enhancing potion absorption.

But it was the final line that caught Kaelith's eye:

"Cooldown: 5 seconds. Effect lasts 5 seconds."

Kaelith raised an eyebrow. "A short burst, but no cooldown stacking?"

Malthor chuckled, folding his arms. "That's what makes it special. It doesn't overwrite itself. Use it wisely, and you can chain your movements with other buffs."

Kaelith rolled up the parchment and tucked it into his inventory. This wasn't something he would share.

He met Malthor's gaze, his expression unreadable.

"Why give this to me?"

Malthor leaned forward, his grin widening. "Because you play the game like me, Kaelith. And I like winners."

Kaelith smirked.

A new card had just entered his hand. And he would make sure to use it at the right moment.