He stared at his palm again and in a second he produced another orb but this time he controlled his magic, the orb continued to glow, bathing his face in its radiant light. Eryndor felt a profound sense of enthusiasm wash over him, a feeling of immense power surging through his veins. Level 4. And not just levels, but Intelligence, Wisdom, Points, and new spells like Mana Shield! He looked at the glowing orb in his hands, then at the little slime still eating the chips.
"Father, mother and grandfather," he whispered to the empty air, the words a silent vow. "I won't let you down. Not anymore. I have power now. Real power." the words of his grandfather saying, "they are not going to shine their teeth at your face," he then stared at the sky and said, "but instead their lips will be sealed and their eyes will be wide by how remarkable i truly am." He imagined the look on his grandfather's face, the pride. A determined glint entered his eyes.
"Right. Finn." And the rest of the scouting party. He had almost forgotten. He quickly dismissed the Arcane Orb, its light fading instantly. He then opened a portal to his pack and used his levitation spell to raise the book taking it to the other side of the portal, and cast a quick glance at the slime.
"Hmmm," he focused his gaze at the slime, he then asked his arcane engine, "do the slime have invisibility?"
"Yes." It replied.
"Why was I unaware of that, I mean I didn't see anything related to invisibility," he answered.
"It's part of the camouflaging abilities."
"Oh right," he then raised his hand his right palm facing the slime that now knows what he was doing. "Camouflage activate," and the visible slime tediously became invisible, but he can sence its presence and see it indistinctly "That actually worked perfectly."
"So how can I be of use master Eryndor," Gloop said.
"Just Eryndor," the slime then hopped to him and up to his shoulder, "just talk when necessary," he said.
"As you wish Eryndor, shall we."
Eryndor turned and hurried back towards the dorm and noticed no one knows or suspect anything suspicious about him and realized he was the only one that can see it. He opened the door to his room and saw Finn buttoning his jacket, "wait too long?" He asked noticing he took a lot of time.
"It's alright let's go," he said and the strode off together.
They strode along the shops outside of the walls of the academy. The shouts of vendors hawking their wares, the rhythmic clang of a blacksmith's hammer, and the indistinct chatter of countless conversations.
Eryndor got all the coins his grandfather kept so he didn't lack anything because he used the coins efficiently. And his eyes caught a shimmering red stone buried in a sand near a cart.
"Alright, Eryndor, you coming?" Finn called out, already heading towards a tent adorned with various weapons. "Or are you going to stand there and stare all day."
Eryndor grinned, shaking his head. "Coming." He then asked the slime in his shoulder, "what was that?"
Since the slime knew about things related to anything magic he answered, "it's a dragon stone."
"Dragon stone?"
"Erynnnnn....." Finn shouted
"Oh sorry," he fastened his steps to meet up with Finn.
They entered a cramped, dimly lit shop, its walls lined with an impressive array of weapons. Swords of polished steel gleamed from racks, axes with wickedly sharp edges hung from hooks, and a dizzying variety of daggers lay displayed on worn wooden tables. The air smelled of oiled metal and old leather. Eryndor eyes hovered around the weapons displayed on the walls.
As Eryndor scanned the room, a familiar, ethereal chime echoed in his mind, and a shimmering
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[WEAPON ANALYSIS]
* Iron Dagger (Common): Basic, durable.
* Steel Longsword (Uncommon): Balanced, good reach.
* Leather Sling (Common): Simple ranged weapon.
* ...
* Ancient Bronze Dagger (Rare/Artifact): A dagger of forgotten make. Its material resonates faintly with archaic energies. Potential for attunement.
Eryndor's eyes, guided by the system's unseen hand and his Intelligence and Wisdom, immediately darted to a particular dagger nestled amongst more conventional blades. It was unassuming at first glance – a dull, dark bronze blade with a simple, unadorned leather-wrapped hilt. Unlike the gleaming steel surrounding it, this dagger had a subtle, almost imperceptible aura about it, a faint shimmer that only he seemed able to detect.
"This one," Eryndor said, reaching for the bronze dagger without hesitation. Its weight felt perfectly balanced in his hand, cool and oddly resonant.
The shopkeeper, a old man with a long, white beard and an apron stained with what looked suspiciously like rust and blood. He took the dagger from Eryndor's hand, turning it over slowly. His eyes, initially bored, widened slightly.
"Well....." the shopkeeper mumbled, running a thumb over the blade. "This old thing? It's been sitting in that corner for years. Never thought anyone would look twice at it." He looked up at Eryndor, a peculiar glint in his eye. "You're the first. This isn't just any old blade, lad. It's ancient. Made of bronze, mind you, but... there's something about it. Feels different. Good choice, if you know what you're doing with it." He handed it back to Eryndor, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"For you, then. Standard price for a dagger. But you got yourself a real curiosity there."
Eryndor nodded, a private thrill coursing through him. An ancient dagger. The system had called it "Rare/Artifact". He paid the copper coins, the limited funds dwindling but worth every piece for this discovery. Finn picked a sword with sharp tip and paid for it.
"This dagger.. why'd you choose this?" Finn asked curiously, "I thought you said you hated dull?"
"Yeesh but something feels different about the dagger that's why I chooses it," he answered staring at it.
As they exited the shop, the sounds of the market enveloped them again. Eryndor holding tight the dagger that was secured with its sheath feeling its comforting weight.
"Look at the ordinary, thinking he can buy skill!" The voice was sharp, laced with contempt, and chillingly familiar. Darius, whose arrogance was as legendary, emerged from a nearby stall, a newly acquired, gleaming steel longsword strapped to his back. His eyes, dark and cold, landed on Eryndor, then flickered to the ancient bronze dagger, "What's that? A butter knife for a farm boy? Still proving how utterly ordinary you are, Eryndor."
Before Eryndor could even formulate a retort, Darius, with a lightning-fast movement, snatched the bronze dagger from his hand. "Let's see this pathetic excuse for a blade!" he scoffed, pulling it from its simple leather sheath.
The moment the blade was fully exposed, the blade moved. In a blur of motion, the dagger seemed to twist in Darius's hand, then shot forward, aimed directly at his eye.
Darius, for all his arrogance, was no ordinary. He jerked his head back, a surprised grunt escaping his lips. The blade, however, was incredibly fast. It missed his eye, but its tip scraped viciously across his temple, leaving a thin, crimson line of blood that immediately welled up and began to trickle down his face.
Darius roared, a sound of shock and fury, dropping the dagger sheath as if it were a burning coal. The bronze blade, still shimmering, obediently arced through the air and flew straight back to Eryndor's hand, settling perfectly into his grip.
Eryndor stood rooted to the spot, holding the now docile, ancient dagger, his mind reeling. He stared at Darius, who was frantically wiping blood from his temple, his face contorted in a mix of rage and disbelief. Then he looked down at the dagger, a profound shock coursing through him. It had moved. On its own.