When Rowen returned from the space, it was already past three in the afternoon.
He leaned back on his chair behind the counter, a small smile tugging at his lips. The sight of the ripe batch he had just harvested—plump tomatoes and sturdy potatoes—left him satisfied. The baskets were full, and the faint glow of magic still lingered on the vegetable produce.
He rested for a while, letting Shade curl up lazily on the counter while Fern quietly hovered nearby, invisible to the other people. The thought of upgrading the space soon made him even more content.
Just as Rowen was about to close his eyes, the bell above the door jingled once. He barely looked up, expecting an ordinary customer. But then it jingled again. And again.
Within minutes, the quiet shop turned noisy. Students from the lower school barged in, one after another, still in their uniforms, some even sweating from their early exploration of the dungeon.
