Aldric had just awakened as an arcanist. Even though he felt stronger than before, he wasn't foolish enough to think that he could fight with experienced arcanists or treasure hunters. He had barely started on his path. Those people had years of training, resources, and combat experience. For now, Aldric's only goal was survival.
This place was too dangerous. The Blood Fang Mountains Region was known as a no man's land. Factions were moving here, experts were being drawn here, and even the small village was filled with people stronger than him. Staying here longer than necessary was simply asking for death.
But before he left, he needed supplies.
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His first stop was a clothing store.
Aldric walked in, still wearing the ragged clothes of a slave. The shopkeeper, a thin man with narrow eyes, looked at him with open disdain. His lips curled slightly as if he expected Aldric to beg or waste his time.
That look changed the moment Aldric tossed a spirit stone onto the counter.
The faint glow of the stone lit up the shopkeeper's eyes. In this world, spirit stones were the standard currency among arcanists. Mortals rarely ever saw them, but to merchants, they were treasures far better than ordinary gold or silver.
The shopkeeper's disdainful look immediately shifted into one of respect. His back straightened, and his smile widened as if Aldric had transformed in his eyes.
With that single stone, Aldric bought multiple sets of average-quality clothing for daily wear. He also selected a high-quality black robe with a golden design embroidered around the waist. It wasn't extravagant, but it carried the air of someone with status.
He left some of the purchased clothes at the shop, asking the shopkeeper to hold onto them for him.
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Next, Aldric walked into a shop that sold artifacts.
There were all sorts of minor tools here—rings, pendants, belts, and more. Some were simple decorations, others were useful items crafted with basic arcanist techniques.
Aldric focused on one thing: storage artifacts.
In the world of arcanists, storage artifacts were essential. They used spatial techniques to hold large amounts of goods, far more than a person could carry normally. The better the artifact, the larger its capacity.
After browsing for a while, Aldric purchased a dimensional storage artifact with a space of 15 square meters. It wasn't impressive by the standards of wealthy arcanists, but for him, it was more than enough.
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With his new purchase secured, Aldric went to a bathhouse.
For years, he had lived with the dirt and grime of slavery. The chains, the sweat, the blood—it had all accumulated on his body, impossible to wash away fully without proper care.
For the first time in his life, Aldric enjoyed the feeling of warm water washing over his skin. He scrubbed away the filth until his body felt light, almost new. The bath was simple compared to the luxuries of nobles, but for Aldric, it was the best bath of his life.
When he stepped out, he burned his old ragged clothes, leaving them behind as a symbol of what he no longer was. From his storage, he pulled out one of his new sets of clothing.
Now, when he looked at his reflection in the bathhouse mirror, he no longer resembled a slave. With clean skin, tidy hair, and proper clothing, he looked like a middle-class citizen. Nobody would guess his past.
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Afterward, Aldric returned to the clothing store and collected the rest of his clothes from the shopkeeper. He neatly stored them inside his new dimensional artifact.
His next stop was a shop that sold raw materials.
The shelves were stacked with the basic building blocks needed by crafters—logs of wood, ingots of metal, bolts of cloth, and more. Since Aldric had chosen the Creation Path, these materials were essential for his training and survival.
He purchased:
Large amounts of wood logs
Several iron ingots
A stack of steel ingots
A variety of cloth rolls
All of it was stored neatly inside his artifact.
The total cost was 10 spirit stones.
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By the time Aldric finished his shopping, the sky had already darkened. The village lanterns lit up the streets, casting a faint glow that pushed back the night.
He made his way to a nearby inn.
The inn was busy, filled with mercenaries, adventurers, and traders. The smell of food and ale lingered in the air. Aldric ignored the stares from strangers and walked straight to the counter.
Using spirit stone fragments as payment, he ordered a meal. The dishes were simple but hearty. He made sure to order lots of meat, something he had rarely eaten during his years of slavery. Each bite filled his stomach and gave him a sense of satisfaction he had long forgotten.
After the meal, Aldric paid for a room.
When he finally lay down on the bed, he thought about the day's events. Just a short while ago, he had been nothing but a slave waiting for death. Now, he was an arcanist, clean, clothed, and equipped with supplies.
He still had 88 spirit stones left.
For most mortals, such wealth was unimaginable. Even for lower-ranked arcanists, it was enough to live comfortably for a long time.
Aldric wasn't naive. He knew the road ahead would be filled with danger. But for the first time, he had the means to prepare himself.
His path was just beginning.
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