[Omen of the Witchblade] Chapter 148 – Browsing the Local Wares

Mel’s team visited several shops throughout the Seabrim Crater. With some of the permit’s price lightened by their new healer, they had more rune coins to spend on supplies.

Instant scrolls for survival items were on the cheaper side compared to ritual scrolls, training manuals, and equipment. Nobody was keen on buying advancement materials, since that could just be bought with Battle Points through the Emporium.

Storage rings were a premium item as well. And hard to come by.

Everybody wanted one, which drove up the price.

With so many new competitors, even the sleaziest of merchants struggled to keep their wares in stock. Nobody seemed keen on replenishing their stock in a timely manner.

“It’s because they’ll be sitting on inventory when the next set of trials is underway,” Elian explained. “If they were to restock to satisfy all present and future demand, they would be sitting for weeks to months without moving valuable merchandise.”

“Why don’t they just stock in anticipation of a trial ending?” Heath asked. “Time isn’t any different, right? So why not prepare for the end of a trial and then fill up right before?”

“Some do,” Elian said. “However, Convocation trials tend to have…fewer people coming out than went in. That is a number few merchants can guess at.”

“The ones who can are probably raking in the profits,” Mel added.

Elian leaned over a stall of ritual scrolls, keeping his hands behind his back as he perused. “Too true, Mel.”

Mel preferred her name to ‘First Champion, Mel’ which was what Elian had initially called her by. She didn’t care about being called First Champion unless it was to annoy Charlie.

Even then, the novelty wore out fast.

“That is why I was keen on helping you the very first day,” Elian explained. “The first day or so is crucial. Most people are nursing wounds, recovering, or otherwise not in their right state of mind. Having people on this side of the Convocation can help. Many of these items will be half their current value or less during the middle of a series of Convocation trials.”

“I’ll make sure to leave a list for Shrubley,” Mel said.

For some reason that mystified more than just Mel, Charlie purchased a set of storage jewelry that was at the very lowest rarity. They were unusually cheap since just about nobody wanted them, and the wizard shopkeeper took a liking to both of their witchy hats.

Common rarity storage rings held roughly a cubic foot worth of stuff. Sometimes it was more, but rarely less. They worked in a pinch, though. Even gouged to hell, they were “affordable” compared to the price of even an Uncommon ring.

It wasn’t common knowledge, but Mel knew how to combine storage jewelry of the same rarity in the [Soul Kiln] to upgrade the items.

The Necromancer didn’t even put the items on. Instead, she put them away. “I’ll show you later,” was all she said about the matter.

Mel assumed it wasn’t just for herself. One was a goldsteel necklace, the type that Gwen preferred to wear, as silversteel was uncomfortable for a werewolf.

Mel was growing curious what specialized ritual magic Charlie knew. There were only three Magi that Mel was aware of that had unique forms of ritual magic. Not the stuff that Thomas could do in order to form an alarm perimeter, but ritual magic like her [Armament Scrap].

She assumed it was Jacob that could change weapons into different kinds, even though he was a ritual dumb Defender. Camilla was the second best guess, since her base class was Acolyte and her ritual knowledge would be on par with Charlie’s and Thomas’.

In at least half the shops, they didn’t buy anything. Charlie led the hunt for good selections and an agreeable shopkeeper. She was able to haggle the price down a few times.

Mel was able to work her magic on a nelana who had a weakness for a fiery blonde with a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

Afterwards, Charlie threatened the shopkeeper. “Hey, catgirl!” She pushed up her sleeves and climbed over the counter. “That First Champion you’re ogling? Back off, she’s not going to be yours. Or else you’re on the list.”

The nelana immediately turned tail and ran away into the back of the shop.

Even Copper ranked armaments were fairly expensive. It was eye opening. Mel’s [Armament Scrap Ritual] was not only more valuable than she had initially believed, but significantly rarer.

More than once, Mel saw [Weapon Scrap] or [Armor Scrap] for sale, and it was expensive. A Common rarity weapon without any imprints on it might be 100 [Copper Rune Coins], but a piece of [Armor Scrap] was 200 to 300 depending on the shop.

Every shop that sold scrap also had an illustrated sign outlining how to use the [Soul Kiln] to enhance the rarity with scrap.

Anybody could combine scrap to enhance an armament. You just needed a kiln.

Elian smiled and tapped one of the drawings showing a small man stuffing scrap into a box. “Scrap is something you rarely find,” he explained. “Oftentimes you can get it from destroying the armor on a powerful enemy, though that’s not common, even at Iron. Even then, you only get a piece or two. You need multiple just to bring a Common up to Uncommon. It gets pricey fast, but it lets you keep a favored piece of equipment.”

Mel practically shot death beams from her eyes at Heath, daring him to open his mouth. He looked sweaty and flushed, his lips doing a strange curling thing that made him look unhinged.

Heath was obviously warring between talking up Mel and keeping his mouth shut to hide her secret. A very valuable secret that Mel really wanted to exploit for her own gain.

What other purpose was there for a secret?

Yeah, but as soon as I start selling it in any quantity, people will know. Either they’ll guess that I have some hookup that I don’t, or they’ll think something even worse. It’d be good if I wanted to raise my notoriety, but I don’t need people hammering on my door every day.

Even selling it through a broker would be difficult, not to mention the fee they’d charge.

Ugh. I’d have to find somebody reputable and trustworthy, which is hard enough on its own. Somebody I would trust to know my secret, and feel secure that they wouldn’t sell me out.

Mel looked Elian up and down as he perused a small shop filled with magical charms that proclaimed to ward against every affliction under the sun.

The downside was these kinds of charms were single-use items.

[Poison Charm]

(Copper Rank, Item)

(Uncommon)

A slim wooden charm attached to a silk braided rope and inscribed with protective sigils.

Imprint: Protects against (1) instance of Poison affliction.

Raising the rarity of weapons and armor significantly improved their parameters. The difference between a Common rarity weapon and a Legendary rarity was night and day.

Not that Mel could increase the rarity up to Legendary. She seemed stuck at Epic.

That brought up a question she’d nearly forgotten about. “Hey, Elian.”

“Yes?”

“Is there a way to raise a ritual spell’s strength?”

The High Clerk thought for a moment, idly fending off a talisman seller who was trying to push a 500 [Copper Rune Coin] talisman on him.

“There are some manuals and scrolls that will raise the rarity of a ritual spell,” he said, stroking his chin. “However, you have to already know the ritual spell, and it is costly.”

“How costly?”

Elian gestured vaguely. Everything was gouged with so many competitors shopping for a limited supply of goods. “Anything that improves is going to be at a premium, and with this being the first stop for many after their first trial…you have a lot of buyers competing for the same products.”

Mel’s team picked up [Repair Powders] and [Polishing Oils], which were useful items to use in trials to mend durability damage on armor and weapons. A blacksmith or some other kind of profession that was good with equipment would likely be better, but Mel’s group didn’t have somebody with that skill set between them. At least not yet.

The tins of [Repair Powders] and [Polishing Oils] could go a long way, though there was no telling how different the next trial would be.

Mel bought a few extra of each. They were one of the cheapest items around at only 25 coppers apiece. Both items felt like alchemical concoctions to her. A bit of time with the [Alchemy Table] stashed in the alley behind the Rook would shed some light on how to make them.

At least, that’s what she thought before Elian guided her toward a very different shop. It looked like a small, independently owned bookshop.

The kind of place where books were stacked on the floor and used as coffee tables or displays more often than not. Where secondhand cushy chairs with split seams were scattered about to lounge and read in.

Where the owner was a true lover of the written word and the shop was more of an excuse to hoard countless texts than a legitimate business.

In short, the kind of place a Magi might own just for the sake of it.

“Elian, you beautiful, beautiful man.” Mel breathed in the musty scent of knowledge. She took a few steps into the tiny shop and was met face-to-face with an orc.

He looked so much like Dernerd that Mel nearly reached for her twinblade. The orc didn’t miss the gesture, but he did smile and nod when it became obvious Mel wasn’t going to actually draw her weapon.

“A good evening to you, miss…?”

“Mel. Just Mel.”

He extended a verdant and muscular hand. “A pleasure, Mel. My name is Virgil.” He looked over his half-moon glasses at her. “I take it you are surprised to find an orc running a bookshop.”

“Not as much as you might think,” Mel said. Though it did look like he bench pressed the stacks of books instead of reading them. He must have been poured into his rumpled suit, because Mel couldn’t see how he could have put it on otherwise. “You just look familiar.”

Virgil rubbed his trimmed and oiled beard. “Ah, family. So troublesome. I do hope my resemblance does not put you off from browsing?”

“That depends,” Mel said. “Whatcha got?”

“For a fellow connoisseur, I have everything.” His voice was like velvety dark chocolate. Mel could have listened to him read the phone book.

“Of course, we have the mundane tomes. Stories, tales as old as time, enjoyable escapes from the rat race of advancement,” Virgil guided Mel deeper into the stacked aisles of books. Elian followed at a respectable distance.

The way the orc touched each book, each spine, was so reverent that Mel wondered if he really might be a Magi. He seemed to care more about the books than making a sale. He never once mentioned purchasing or buying anything, instead he talked about the different manuscripts, tomes, scrolls, and tablets that he had available.

“What about something more…magical?” Mel asked.

Virgil picked up a heavy brassbound book that could easily double as a blunt weapon. He tapped it against his palm as easily and lightly as if it was a paper bookmark. “Hm…I do have a few ritual tomes, if you are looking to add to your repertoire. What, may I ask, are you looking for?”

Mel thought about that for a moment as she walked her fingers along the edges of the books. Not a single speck of dust was anywhere to be found. Virgil clearly took very good care of his books, even if his organizational system was worse than her own.

“I’m looking for F- or G-Tier spells. Nothing higher.” She rattled off a list of spells she would love to have. The odds that she would be able to find, let alone afford, any of the spells was highly unlikely.

There was no way people hadn’t already thought about the more important ones, but then Virgil stroked his slim beard and said, “I don’t know about some of those. Especially that one that reverses local gravity, but I do have one or two pouches of [Fringedust].”

“Which does what?” Mel asked.

“You draw out your ritual as usual, then overlay the [Fringedust] onto the runes,” Virgil explained. “Keep in mind, the ritual needs time to mature with the [Fringedust]. It has to stay undisturbed for a full day. Once it’s matured, the ritual will vanish on its own and improve from G- to F-Tier.”

“Holy shit, I need it.”