A bell jingled softly as he pushed open the door.
Inside, the walls were lined with racks and shelves—shields hung above the door, and racks of weapons filled the space. A stout man behind the counter looked up from polishing a short sword.
"Morning," Kael said. "I'm looking to buy some gear."
The man's eyes flicked briefly to Seris, lingering on the collar, then back to Kael. "For yourself? Or for her?" His tone was neutral, but there was an unspoken question there.
"For her." Kael folded his arms. "Is that a problem?"
The shopkeeper's mouth twisted, not in a smile but something adjacent to it. "No problem. Just doesn't happen often. A slave, huh? What's her class?"
"B-rank," Kael replied.
That got the shopkeeper's attention. He stepped out from behind the counter, his boots thudding on the wooden floor. "B-rank? You don't see many of those owned by wandering merchants. Adventurers, maybe. Nobles, definitely. Well, good thing you came here. Let's find her something sharp."
Kael followed him past rows of weapons and locked glass cases that seemed more like museum pieces than merchandise. Seris walked silently behind him, her eyes scanning everything—but she didn't reach for anything.
"You've got coin?" the shopkeeper asked over his shoulder.
"Enough."
That was true—technically. He didn't plan on spending a fortune, but if she was going to keep him alive, she'd need better than rusty scraps and regrets.
The shopkeeper stopped at a display filled with all manner of blades, arranged by type—shortswords, longswords, curved sabers, etc.
"Go on," he said, nodding at Seris. "Pick what feels right."
Seris hesitated, eyes flicking to Kael. He gave her a short nod.
"Don't look at me," he said. "You're the one who has to swing it. Go! Pick something stabby. Something deadly. Something... chic."
"Are you sure? The things here look too expensive."
Kael tilted his head. "So what?"
She turned to face him fully, eyes serious. "My previous owners never bought new gear. Only second-hand weapons. It was wasteful to give expensive weapons to slaves like me."
Kael raised a brow. "You think I care what your old owners thought?"
"Listen, Seris," Kael said. "You're supposed to protect me, remember? You're my bodyguard. If you die, I die. If I die, you're out of a job, and I'm out of existence. That's called 'mutual interest.' Now, go pick something expensive and terrifying."
Seris moved among the racks with quiet deliberation. Her hand brushed the hilt of a longsword, then moved on. She passed several displays, her fingers trailing lightly over the blades—not touching, but feeling them in the air.
Then she stopped.
A matching set caught her eye: a steel longsword with a wolf's-head pommel, the leather grip bound tight and dark. Next to it, a kite shield, its surface polished, rimmed in iron—clean and ready to be claimed.
She stepped forward slowly, almost reverently, and lifted the sword from the rack. The weight of it seemed to settle into her hand like an old memory. Her other hand reached for the shield, and when she strapped it to her forearm, her stance shifted slightly—shoulders squared, chin lifted.
She looked... whole.
The shopkeeper gave an approving nod. "Good eye. That set's solid craftsmanship. Took a commission from a retired captain—never came back to collect it. Two gold coins for the set."
Kael blinked.
Two gold coins. That was two thousand dollars in practical terms. Enough to rent a place in the city for a month.
"Two gold, huh?" he said, eyeing the set. "Nice work, no doubt—but that's a noble's price."
The shopkeeper grunted. "It's a noble's set."
Kael smiled thinly. "And yet it's been collecting dust for what, a year? Maybe two? You said yourself the captain never came back. So now it's just tying up space and coin."
The shopkeeper opened his mouth, then shut it again.
Kael stepped a little closer, lowering his voice. "Tell you what—I'll give you one gold and forty silver. Right now. Clean and easy. No haggling with barons, no waiting for some rich fool to wander in and promise to come back with a purse he doesn't have."
The shopkeeper's eyes narrowed. "One eighty. No less. This blade's forged from vaeliron—stronger than steel, lighter too. It's a masterpiece."
Kael smiled a little wider. "One fifty."
"One sixty-five. Final offer. Take it or leave it."
Kael held his gaze for a moment, then reached into his pouch and counted out the coins—one gold, six tens, and a five.
He set them on the counter.
"Deal."
A few minutes later, the items were wrapped and packed.
Finally, Seris spoke. "You didn't have to buy something that nice."
Kael shrugged. "It's for my safety. And the safety of my money."
"Is that all this is?"
He glanced sideways at her. "What else would it be? You think I'm doing this out of kindness?"
Seris was silent for a long moment. Then: "...Even so, thank you."
Kael looked away, pretending he didn't hear it.
They headed towards the Adventurer's Guild.
Kael pushed the door open.
Inside, many adventurers were collecting their rewards and choosing new missions.
As Kael and Seris stepped in, a few heads turned.
"...That's him, right?"
"Yeah. The guy with the weird torches and metal food."
"I bought those matches off him. Damn things lit in the rain."
Kael kept his gaze forward, ignoring the murmurs.
He approached the central desk, where a receptionist sat.
"State your business."
"Slave registration. Combat class."
The receptionist's smile faltered slightly as her gaze dropped to the collar around Seris's neck, then flicked back up.
"Papers?"
Kael handed them over.
"B-rank?" she asked, voice quieter now. "For twelve gold?"
The receptionist lowered her gaze to the documents again. She examined the stamp, the seal, the signature—everything was in order.
"These... these are legitimate," she muttered, almost to herself.
Kael gave a small, measured nod, silent.
The receptionist cleared her throat. "Right. Guild policy allows combat slaves under adventurer command if bound. She'll be tagged and listed as your responsibility. Theft, assault, murder—it's all on your head."
"Understood."
The woman shuffled the papers, adding them to a stack behind her. "I'll file these now. You'll receive a token soon. Is she to be registered to your current Adventurer's ID?"
"Yes."
Kael gave her his Adventurer ID.
"If she completes enough missions, she may petition for limited rights. It's rare—but possible. We keep it on record."
Kael nodded.