The butcher's hands trembled as he ran his palms over the slabs of meat.
The veins in his forearms bulged, thick from years of cutting hide and bone, yet even his practiced grip seemed hesitant now.
His fingertips traced the texture of the flesh again and again as though his senses were betraying him.
Finally, his voice cracked in awe.
"It feels like it was just cut… What kind of sorcery is this?"
His gaze flicked from the meat to Veyra, as though expecting her to unveil some grand trick.
The sparkle in his eyes, however, betrayed him — he wasn't fearful. He was excited, like a child who had just stumbled upon treasure.
"Name your price," he breathed, voice trembling.
Veyra tilted her head with a sly little smirk, clearly enjoying the man's excitement. But before she could say a word, Azel spoke.
"There's more."
The butcher froze. "...More?"
Azel lifted his hand, his ring pulsing faintly with a glow.
