The morning sunlight filtered through the gaps of the Black Mist Jungle, spilling onto the winding path. After tidying up his attire, Ron headed to the Herb Store.
The memory of Lady Allen's stunning visage from last night still lingered in his mind, hard to dispel.
Though reason told him it was just a temporary phenomenon, deep down he couldn't help but hope to see that pink-haired beautiful witch once more.
As he pushed open the door to the Herb Store, the familiar mixed aroma of herbs greeted him.
Ron's gaze quickly locked onto the hunched figure behind the counter.
As expected, Lady Allen had already reverted to her usual old appearance—
A face full of wrinkles intersecting like dried riverbeds, a hooked nose beneath which sat a tightly pursed mean mouth, her pale hair messily pinned up at the back of her head, and a pair of hands marked with age spots were carefully inspecting the color of a potion bottle.
