Shopping in town was not difficult. Most of the buildings were homes, while the marketplace had its own designated area, with shop signs and peddlers scattered everywhere. Arthur noticed a few Apprentices drifting between the stalls, all of them, as far as he could tell, outer apprentices like himself.
'Official Apprentices likely have no need for any of this', Arthur mused, scanning the rows of stalls. Most of these are what wizards call "mortal items"… Useless for those who have already mastered spells.
The first shop he entered was a weapons and armor store, the rhythmic clang of a hammer ringing from the blacksmith's forge behind it. Arthur observed a few younger and older workers moving tools and materials, their hands calloused and faces soot-streaked.
'They sell what they make. Smart', Arthur thought, nodding to himself as he approached the counter, where a young woman stood.
"Welcome, honorable wizard. How may we assist you today?" Her smile was polite, but Arthur could sense a weariness in her gaze, tinged with fear. Whether it was due to his recently expanded spiritual sea or the subtle changes following his breakthrough, Arthur found himself able to faintly perceive the emotions of mortals—though just barely.
"I need a sword, a pair of daggers, and light armor, preferably crafted with liquid metal," Arthur said, voice calm.
"Right away, sir. Please give me a moment." She hurried into the back, and as Arthur allowed his senses to extend, he caught faint fragments of her hushed conversation.
"Fetch the best swords we have—start with the new ones Master Aaron finished this week. Let him choose. I'll grab the armor and daggers." A man's voice, steady and low.
"But what if he doesn't like them? What if he gets angry and—kills me?" the girl's voice trembled.
"Careful what you say, girl. That incident cannot be spoken of lightly. The apprentice who attacked the peddler was from the outer sector, and he was fined heavily in spirit stones. Since then, apprentices, especially outer ones, have learned to manage their tempers—no one wants to lose their precious stones." The man sighed. "Not all apprentices are like that. Watch your words and your manner. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," she whispered.
Moments later, she returned with a bundle of swords, her hands trembling slightly.
'An apprentice killed someone?' Arthur raised an eyebrow, surprised he had not heard of the incident.
"These are our best swords, honored wizard. Please take your time to choose. If none are to your liking, we can craft one specifically for you," she said, regaining her professional composure.
Arthur began inspecting the swords, testing their balance and weight, before settling on a dark blade with a golden hilt. He swung it experimentally, feeling its weight settle comfortably in his grip.
"That sword was crafted by our top blacksmith and contains a mixture of dark iron, making it stronger and more resistant to spiritual energy," she explained, noticing his interest.
"Resistant to spiritual energy?" Arthur repeated, studying the blade. "I was under the impression that most mundane materials corrode or shatter under its influence. Are you certain of your claim?"
"Yes, sir," she stammered, flinching. "Dark iron is highly durable and is often used by wizards to craft their personal equipment. Items containing even a trace of it are highly sought after by apprentices. We were going to display this sword at the upcoming auction, but you came in just before that."
"How much?" Arthur asked.
"Five hundred gold coins for the sword, ten gold each for the daggers, and one hundred for the liquid metal light armor. That brings the total to six hundred and ten gold coins," she explained in a single breath, eager to complete the transaction. "We also accept spirit stones, at an exchange of one stone per five hundred gold coins. We can round down the total to six hundred."
Arthur retrieved his pouch and was about to place the coins on the counter when a hand slapped down a pouch of gold beside him.
"I'll buy the sword. Here's five hundred gold coins." A voice spoke from behind.
Arthur turned, meeting the gaze of a light-skinned apprentice clad in the outer apprentice robes, with dark green eyes and long black hair falling across his shoulders.
"Hand it over. Now." The apprentice extended his hand toward the sword.
Arthur's lips curled into a faint, amused smile. Without a word, he calmly placed his own coins on the counter, ignoring the newcomer as he waited for the remainder of his items.
"Are you deaf? I already paid. Give me the sword!" the apprentice snapped, reaching toward Arthur.
"Touch it, and I'll break your arm," Arthur said flatly, his eyes cold. "She already sold it to me. I haven't paid yet, but the transaction is complete. Go play elsewhere."
The apprentice's face flushed with anger, and he opened his mouth to shout, but Arthur stopped listening, his mind drifting as the boy's voice blurred into the background. When the apprentice lunged forward again, Arthur's smile returned.
'A good moment to test the spell's application in a semi-combat scenario', he thought, channeling his spiritual energy into the rune embedded within his soul. A faint glow flashed within him, and he felt an invisible hand form behind his back, perfectly under his control.
The movement was instantaneous. Just as the apprentice's hand reached for Arthur's collar, he was lifted off the ground by an unseen force, slammed into the ceiling, and then crashed to the floor in a sharp, controlled motion, leaving him sprawled unconscious.
The entire shop shook with the impact. The girl behind the counter stumbled back, a gasp escaping her lips, her eyes wide with fear.
"D-Did you kill him?" she whispered.
Arthur sighed. "No," he replied, shaking his head. "Now, please hand me the rest of the equipment."
The shaking of the shop drew the attention of the staff, and several workers rushed in to see what had happened. Arthur ignored their anxious whispers as he stepped over the unconscious apprentice, kneeling down to search him with methodical calm.
In the apprentice's pockets, Arthur found a small pouch of spirit stones—four of them in total—and a pair of rune stones, single-use items with low-level spells inscribed upon them, faintly glowing with residual energy. Arthur pocketed them without hesitation.
His gaze then fell upon the pouch of gold coins the apprentice had so confidently slammed onto the counter. Arthur reached down, picked it up, and tucked it away as well.
'Consider it as payment for the lesson' he thought, standing up.
Moments later, the girl reappeared, clutching his items to her chest. Her eyes darted nervously toward the unconscious apprentice, then to Arthur, before she set the equipment on the counter with trembling hands.
Arthur counted out the gold calmly, placing the exact amount owed onto the counter without a word. Under the wary gazes of the staff and the girl's fearful, uncertain eyes, Arthur collected his new sword, daggers, and the liquid metal armor, securing them neatly within his storage pouch.
He stepped out of the shop, the heavy door closing behind him, and continued his shopping without another glance back.
The marketplace bustled with noise, peddlers calling out prices while buyers argued over copper coins. Arthur moved efficiently through the streets, visiting stalls and small shops. He purchased bandages and rolls of dried food, poison pills for emergencies, and a few healing pills that would aid him in recovering from minor wounds. Most of these were mundane items, cheap but necessary.
At a small weapons stall, Arthur examined a compact crossbow, admiring its simple but sturdy mechanism before slipping it into his sleeve, hidden from view.
By the time he finished, the sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the dirt roads and worn wooden planks of the town. His gold pile was lighter, but his supplies were well-stocked.
Shopping complete, Arthur returned to his dormitory in the outer sector, a modest room with plain wooden walls and a single bed. He began preparing immediately, checking and rechecking his equipment, before placing everything inside his storage pouch.
Time passed quietly, the room filled only with the soft rustle of cloth and the clink of metal. Finally, a knock came at his door.
"Hey, Arthur, are you ready to go?"
Arthur opened the door to find Joshua, he was smiling, a light pack slung over his shoulder, it made Arthur stare a bit, wondering why he wouldn't place it inside his own storage pouch, but didn't ask.
"Yes, I am," Arthur replied, his new sword at his hip, the crossbow hidden in his sleeve.
He closed the door behind him, sparing one last glance at the small room that had served as his temporary home. Without another word, he stepped out, following Joshua.