Chapter 13 – Heavy Pockets

Meanwhile.

The adventurer group “Iron Wolf” was already walking several meters ahead. Lyra followed behind, lost in thought.

Occasionally, she glanced back over her shoulder.

Kael noticed she had stopped walking and turned around. “What’s the problem, Lyra?” he asked, following her gaze, but found nothing.

Hearing the leader call her, Lyra snapped out of her daze. “It’s nothing important.”

Garret raised an eyebrow, the bow shifting on his shoulder as he stepped to the side.

“Hmm.” He leaned slightly, trying to see what she had been looking at. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about the stranger you met at the entrance earlier?”

“What?”

Kael narrowed his eyes. “The foreigner?” he said, trying to keep his tone casual. “You didn’t even know him. Why did you pay his entry fee?”

Before Lyra could answer, Garret broke into a crooked smile. “Oh, Kael, don’t be stupid. It’s obvious.” He lightly slapped his arm, teasing him. “Love at first sight.”

Kael shot Garret a quick, ugly glance, almost imperceptible. Even though he didn’t say anything explicitly, his shoulders grew more tense.

Lyra breathed slowly, placing her hands on her hips. “If I were going to fall in love with someone at the city entrance, it definitely wouldn’t be a stranger.” She said it as if stating a trivial fact, not giving in to Garret’s provocation.

“I helped because he looked like he needed it. I know what it’s like to be stopped for not having a piece of paper.” She finished speaking and started walking again, not waiting for the others. “That’s all.”

“Maybe he was just another refugee from the east. Lyra sympathized because she came from the east.” Voren, who had been walking beside them in silence, spoke suddenly.

“…” The group fell silent for a few seconds.

Kael glanced at Voren, then at Lyra, and finally sighed, relenting. “A refugee?”

Voren nodded and continued, his birch staff tapping rhythmically against the ground as he walked. “The Solis Empire isn’t just burning villages. Anyone with even a trace of mana not registered with the Church of the Sun is considered a deviant. Nobles, academy mages, students… they’re all fleeing into the desert to avoid being purified in the flames.”

Garret let out a low whistle, the mocking expression fading for a moment. “I heard their Inquisitors have methods that detect spells from miles away. If that guy at the entrance is a fugitive mage, Lyra, you might have put a target on our backs.”

“Don’t exaggerate, Garret.” Lyra cut in, keeping her eyes fixed on the road ahead, though her ears remained attentive.

“Exaggerate?” Voren shot back, his voice deeper. “Luminaris is neutral, but for how long? If the Empire decides we’re hiding ‘heretics’ or refugees, the desert will be the least of our problems. They’re looking for spies and fugitives who could bring the war here.”

Silence fell over the group again, broken only by the noise of the city.

Lyra said nothing more, but Voren’s words echoed in her mind.

Kael noticed her silence and relaxed his shoulders, though the concern had not left his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. He got in anyway.”

“What I do know is that charity came out of the group’s funds.” Garret interjected, pointing at Lyra with a sideways smile. “Don’t forget you owe us six silver.”

The group moved on, but Lyra cast one last discreet glance over her shoulder. Just one. Quick enough that no one noticed.

As the group disappeared into the bright and busy streets, another kind of concern occupied someone else’s mind in the distance.

Mark walked through the streets, his eyes scanning the storefronts in search of a specific place. After entering the city, he had run into the same problem over and over again.

“Money…” he cursed inwardly, his eyes darkening.

The guard’s reaction at the entrance had exposed a critical flaw in his planning: the gold from Age of Blood was too pure, bordering on the supernatural, and without the seals of the current nations, it was nothing more than suspicious metal in the eyes of the locals.

‘I have treasures in my inventory that could buy a kingdom, yet I can’t pay for a room…’

Without silver or copper coins for common transactions, his fortune was as useful as sand.

Mark needed immediate liquidity, and selling one of his belongings was the only way to avoid spending his first night in some random alley.

Finding a discreet spot, he opened his inventory. His eyes passed over gleaming items and weapons. Mark couldn’t sell his high-level items because they were his insurance in this world, so only the low-level items remained.

He selected one of the most insignificant pieces he had.

[ Shadowbone Dagger ].

This was a Level 40 item, disposable to Mark, used only as recycling material. Its level was the lowest in his inventory, and selling it would not affect his resources at all.

However, when he took it out of the inventory, the dagger pulsed with a dark aura, surprising him. Its blade was made of polished black bone, serrated like the teeth of an animal, and the handle was wrapped in leather.

Curious about its appearance, Mark tried to check its basic information.

Passive Effect: [Eternal Bleed] – Wounds caused by this blade do not close naturally.

Active Effect: [Presence Distortion] – Grants the wielder 15% passive camouflage.

‘Not bad…’

This should be enough to pay for an inn and a decent breakfast.

Without wasting time, Mark hid the weapon beneath his cloak, avoiding drawing more attention, and returned to the main street. He stopped a few passersby, asking for information on where he could find a place to sell items.

Following the directions, Mark found a discreet storefront bearing the symbol of a scale and a magnifying glass: Theron’s Pawn and Exchange.

As he pushed the heavy door, Mark felt the weight of the wood beneath his hand. The bell above chimed, a clear sound that cut through the muffled silence inside.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The place was nothing like the virtual item shops he saw in the game.

Theron’s Shop was real.

The polished stone floor reflected the soft light of mana crystals embedded in the ceiling, and the scent of expensive wood mixed with a faint trace of incense filled the air. Along the walls, thick glass display cases exhibited weapons and accessories that gleamed under focused light, each piece resting on dark velvet.

Everything there screamed exclusivity.

It was the kind of place where an ordinary adventurer would hesitate before entering, afraid of dirtying the carpet with desert sand.

But not Mark.

His eyes analyzed the environment.

It seemed empty.

Behind the counter stood only a humanoid figure with pointed ears covered in grayish fur and yellow feline eyes. He wore a monocle and examined a silver ring.

“Welcome to Theron’s shop.” Hearing the bell, he said without looking up, his voice hoarse and rough. “We buy what you don’t want, and sell what you can’t have. What is your business, stranger?”

“…”

Was that the shop’s motto?

Mark did not answer. He simply walked up to the counter and, with a dull thud that made the old wood creak, placed the Shadowbone Dagger on the surface.

“I want to sell this.” he said, bluntly.

The Gnoll let out a sigh of dissatisfaction at the sudden disturbance, setting the ring aside to give his attention to this impatient customer.

“Just a moment.” He adjusted his lens and leaned over the weapon with indifference.

“You want to sell a dagger…” the Gnoll murmured, analyzing the item.

“Wait—” He suddenly choked, the air leaving his lungs as if he had been punched in the stomach. His yellow eyes dilated until they nearly filled his irises as he looked from the dagger to Mark, and from Mark to the dagger.

“Where… where did you get this, sir?” he asked, his voice trembling. “This… the material is high-level, and it’s enchanted with superior-rank magic!”

Mark frowned.

High-level?

A Level 40 weapon was considered high-level?

“I want to sell this. Are you buying it or not?”

The shopkeeper quickly shut his mouth, his ears lowering. “I… I cannot. My apologies, sir! I do not have the authority to appraise an Epic Grade item! Please wait here. I need to call the manager… the master of the house!”

Before Mark could protest, the creature disappeared through a door in the back.

Mark stood still, confused.

Epic Grade…

He was certain that dagger had only been a low-tier, average item in the original game. It really was Epic Grade, but the man’s reaction did not match what he had expected.

Could he have taken the wrong item?