Wolf disappointed Mandy. The woman had prepared everything. The impressive view, protection from magical and non-magical investigation, raspberry jam... Everything.
And yet Wolf wasn’t interested. He cashed in Headmaster Smith’s Academic Credits, then left Mandy, whose lip quivered, ready to cry.
Wolf made a perfunctory promise to visit her that night if he had the time, then silently cursed when he felt those annoying shackles form and bind his soul.
Wolf expected a Mage from the ducal palace to cast Commune, or at least a footman to deliver a written invitation, but nobody came to see him. That being the case, he went to the House of Fairness.
Ten religions existed in the world, each strange in its own way. However, regardless of their individual quirks, faithful of one deity respected all gods. Church of Fairness preached fairness. Commerce was their primary method of worship.
The Church of Fairness was the world’s largest merchant group, and they facilitated trade between the Ten Races of Man. Despite their riches, while priests of other gods fed Silver City’s unfortunates to gather faith, priests of Spirit of Fairness did nothing. Feeding beggars just because they were hungry wasn’t fair towards those who worked but had empty bellies.
For priests of fairness, giving charity meant acting against their faith. Instead, they gave opportunities and fair jobs to the unfortunates.
Each House of Fairness had two parts. One was a shop where Priests and Initiates practiced fair trade. This area was open to all. The second section was the place of worship with living quarters for the faithful. This was a private area, forbidden to outsiders.
As soon as Wolf entered the public store, an Initiate approached him. She was a smartly clad woman in her thirties. Her face was plain, her robe modest but tasteful.
“Good day, Valued Customer. How may I be of service?” She gave Wolf a polite smile and a look neither haughty, nor subservient.
Even though the woman was polite and professional, Wolf heard completely different words. ‘How may I relieve you of your money?’ echoed in Wolf’s mind.
Regardless, he had to buy himself a suitable weapon. It would be even better if it could chop down Demonic Converters quickly. That way, Wolf would profit long term. Besides, the comical weapon juggling from his previous excursion had to stop. Weapon switching was useful, but they had to be of similar quality, not junk which fell apart after delivering one strike.
“Good day.” Wolf greeted back. “I’m looking for a high-quality sword or saber. I would like to see your best blades.”
The Initiate’s eyes shone with a golden glint as she smiled. “Valued Customer, those items are very expensive. You must speak with our abbot. Please, follow me.”
Wolf watched the woman try her hardest not to skip with joy while leading the way into the fancy waiting lounge. She served him a cup of tea before excusing herself.
Wolf took a sip and frowned. Yup, this is the most expensive cup of tea I’ve ever had. Sigh. They’re gonna bleed me dry today.
“My apologies for keeping you waiting, Valued Customer.” An elderly woman entered the room after Wolf finished his tea.
Her robes were identical to the Initiate’s. The only difference between their attires was that the Initiate’s string and wood tag pendant was replaced by a solid platinum chain as thick as a thumb. A palm-sized platinum tag hung from the heavy necklace. The plate portrayed a simple symbol of scales in equilibrium, drawn in solid veins of black avarium.
Wolf rose from the padded chair and smiled politely. “Don’t mention it.”
He sensed a faint threat from this woman. She’s stronger than Van Dale.
Wolf caught her pupils widen slightly when she saw eight runes on his Mage Academy robe. He awakened his senses and knew she had done the same. But her aura immediately disappeared as her senses immediately went dormant.
“I apologize for my rudeness, Valued Customer. It was an instinctive reaction.” The words entered Wolf’s ears in the distorted flow of time, then he dulled his senses as well.
“Christina told me you’re looking for our treasured blades?” The abbot changed the subject without explaining why she had such instincts.
Wolf nodded. “I’m looking for a high-quality sword. It doesn’t need to be flashy, but it has to be suitable for Ninth Order Sword-Sages.”
Wolf’s benchmark and minimal requirement was the silver-hilted replica he wielded before. The blade wouldn’t have shattered if he hadn’t stupidly used the sword without maneuvers. He’d learned his lesson, but it cost him dearly.
Something fit for a Ninth Order Sword-Sage or better? Our cathedral in Highseat certainly has such items, but this is a provincial temple. The woman’s mind raced worriedly.
“Valued Customer, I believe we don’t have such high-grade items here.” The abbot admitted. “I can show you our stock, but to find a weapon you seek, please wait for our centennial grand auction in three years.”
Wolf’s face sank. Then, he took a deep breath. “It doesn’t hurt to check.”
Hearing Wolf’s words, the abbot nodded, without browsing there’s no buying. She slid open a side door and led Wolf down a flight of spiral stairs.
“This is our weapons’ vault.” The woman stopped before a giant runic seal and touched it in five places. The wall split apart, revealing a spacious underground chamber.
Inside were dozens of weapons in glass cases. Priests stored them with brief descriptions about their materials, the artisan who made them and their histories, if any. Five exhibits were sabers, seven were swords, only two of which were long-swords.
Wolf first eyed the long-swords. One was a disgustingly tacky thing no true swordsman would use. To make matters worse, Wolf felt no murderous aura from it. Nobody used it to kill.
The other one was a relatively functional blade. Unfortunately, it was worse than Van Dale’s sword and several grades inferior to the silver-hilted sword. Wolf’s lip twisted as he looked at it. Still, it was the best piece in that vault. He wanted to inquire about its price, when a familiar voice echoed inside his head.
Young man, I will do you a favor. You are discerning enough to know these are no good. Do not buy useless junk. Instead, I suggest you purchase something else from this establishment. Ask for the mysterious avarium cube from their miscellaneous items’ vault. Then purchase ten kilos of adamantium and ten kilos of mithril.
Wolf didn’t know the speaker. However, he had that frustrating feeling when a word’s at the tip of your tongue, yet no matter how hard you think, the word eludes you. He knew he’d heard this voice long, long ago, in a dream. That was enough for Wolf to guess the mysterious person’s identity.
Having nothing to lose, Wolf faced the abbot. “Excuse me. Do you have an avarium cube in your miscellaneous items vault?”
Abbot’s eyebrows shot up. She never expected Wolf would ask about a mysterious item sitting in their storage for half a decade instead of inspecting the weapons.
“We do?” Confusion leaked into the elderly woman’s voice. “But we don’t know what it’s for? And I’m fairly certain it has nothing to do with swords.”
How did he learn of that item? The abbot’s brows furrowed. We got it from the Northshield branch six years ago, and they got it from Spirit knows where fourteen years before that.
The woman quickly went through everything she knew regarding the unidentified magic item in their store. The list was short. She knew where her temple got it, and she knew the church failed to identify it, no matter which magical or mundane method they used.
“The truth is none of these swords suit me. Especially this thing.” Wolf pointed his chin towards the tacky sword with disdain. “Since none of them suit me, and I know you have a mysterious item, I would like to purchase it and not return empty-handed.”
“I’m afraid I can’t sell it to you.” The abbot shook her head after a moment’s hesitation. “This item is unknown. No matter what quote I make, it will be unfair.”
Wolf understood the woman’s dilemma. Luckily he had an idea on how to handle it. “How about I pay based on its weight and material?”
The woman shook her head again. “I cannot agree to that. It could be iron inside with an avarium finish. Besides, the value of the creator’s knowledge and artistry could be so high it dwarfs the material’s worth. Purchasing this is gambling.”
Hearing the last word, Wolf had an idea. “But gambling is innately fair.”
The woman shook her head yet again. “That discussion is from the Prophet’s reforms. Prophet decreed gambling doesn’t exist. What exists is the difference in awareness and perception. The party in the know isn’t gambling, they are exploiting, and exploitation and cheating are the greatest taboos of our Good Spirit.”
Just sell it, Wolf wanted to shout, but raising his voice wouldn’t help. Instead, he used his brain. “How about this, I pay assuming the cube is pure avarium?”
The abbot was about to speak, but Wolf didn’t let her.
“Then,” he said with a raised finger. “Then, if we discover I have overpaid, I will come to your church and demand a refund. If we discover I have underpaid you, I will come to your church and compensate you for the difference. How does that sound?”
The abbot remained silent for a moment before opening her mouth.
“It sounds fair.” She nodded and smiled approvingly, revealing her teeth. “That would be sixty-nine thousand one hundred and twenty gold coins.”
Wolf nearly had a heart attack. That was more than half his money, including the leftovers he had from all his previous adventures, as well as the Academic Credits he exchanged this morning.
“May I see it? I don’t have to go to that vault. It’s fine if you bring it out for me.” Wolf maintained a straight face, hiding his despair.
Wolf disappointed Mandy. The woman had prepared everything. The impressive view, protection from magical and non-magical investigation, raspberry jam... Everything.
And yet Wolf wasn’t interested. He cashed in Headmaster Smith’s Academic Credits, then left Mandy, whose lip quivered, ready to cry.
Wolf made a perfunctory promise to visit her that night if he had the time, then silently cursed when he felt those annoying shackles form and bind his soul.
Wolf expected a Mage from the ducal palace to cast Commune, or at least a footman to deliver a written invitation, but nobody came to see him. That being the case, he went to the House of Fairness.
Ten religions existed in the world, each strange in its own way. However, regardless of their individual quirks, faithful of one deity respected all gods. Church of Fairness preached fairness. Commerce was their primary method of worship.
The Church of Fairness was the world’s largest merchant group, and they facilitated trade between the Ten Races of Man. Despite their riches, while priests of other gods fed Silver City’s unfortunates to gather faith, priests of Spirit of Fairness did nothing. Feeding beggars just because they were hungry wasn’t fair towards those who worked but had empty bellies.
For priests of fairness, giving charity meant acting against their faith. Instead, they gave opportunities and fair jobs to the unfortunates.
Each House of Fairness had two parts. One was a shop where Priests and Initiates practiced fair trade. This area was open to all. The second section was the place of worship with living quarters for the faithful. This was a private area, forbidden to outsiders.
As soon as Wolf entered the public store, an Initiate approached him. She was a smartly clad woman in her thirties. Her face was plain, her robe modest but tasteful.
“Good day, Valued Customer. How may I be of service?” She gave Wolf a polite smile and a look neither haughty, nor subservient.
Even though the woman was polite and professional, Wolf heard completely different words. ‘How may I relieve you of your money?’ echoed in Wolf’s mind.
Regardless, he had to buy himself a suitable weapon. It would be even better if it could chop down Demonic Converters quickly. That way, Wolf would profit long term. Besides, the comical weapon juggling from his previous excursion had to stop. Weapon switching was useful, but they had to be of similar quality, not junk which fell apart after delivering one strike.
“Good day.” Wolf greeted back. “I’m looking for a high-quality sword or saber. I would like to see your best blades.”
The Initiate’s eyes shone with a golden glint as she smiled. “Valued Customer, those items are very expensive. You must speak with our abbot. Please, follow me.”
Wolf watched the woman try her hardest not to skip with joy while leading the way into the fancy waiting lounge. She served him a cup of tea before excusing herself.
Wolf took a sip and frowned. Yup, this is the most expensive cup of tea I’ve ever had. Sigh. They’re gonna bleed me dry today.
“My apologies for keeping you waiting, Valued Customer.” An elderly woman entered the room after Wolf finished his tea.
Her robes were identical to the Initiate’s. The only difference between their attires was that the Initiate’s string and wood tag pendant was replaced by a solid platinum chain as thick as a thumb. A palm-sized platinum tag hung from the heavy necklace. The plate portrayed a simple symbol of scales in equilibrium, drawn in solid veins of black avarium.
Wolf rose from the padded chair and smiled politely. “Don’t mention it.”
He sensed a faint threat from this woman. She’s stronger than Van Dale.
Wolf caught her pupils widen slightly when she saw eight runes on his Mage Academy robe. He awakened his senses and knew she had done the same. But her aura immediately disappeared as her senses immediately went dormant.
“I apologize for my rudeness, Valued Customer. It was an instinctive reaction.” The words entered Wolf’s ears in the distorted flow of time, then he dulled his senses as well.
“Christina told me you’re looking for our treasured blades?” The abbot changed the subject without explaining why she had such instincts.
Wolf nodded. “I’m looking for a high-quality sword. It doesn’t need to be flashy, but it has to be suitable for Ninth Order Sword-Sages.”
Wolf’s benchmark and minimal requirement was the silver-hilted replica he wielded before. The blade wouldn’t have shattered if he hadn’t stupidly used the sword without maneuvers. He’d learned his lesson, but it cost him dearly.
Something fit for a Ninth Order Sword-Sage or better? Our cathedral in Highseat certainly has such items, but this is a provincial temple. The woman’s mind raced worriedly.
“Valued Customer, I believe we don’t have such high-grade items here.” The abbot admitted. “I can show you our stock, but to find a weapon you seek, please wait for our centennial grand auction in three years.”
Wolf’s face sank. Then, he took a deep breath. “It doesn’t hurt to check.”
Hearing Wolf’s words, the abbot nodded, without browsing there’s no buying. She slid open a side door and led Wolf down a flight of spiral stairs.
“This is our weapons’ vault.” The woman stopped before a giant runic seal and touched it in five places. The wall split apart, revealing a spacious underground chamber.
Inside were dozens of weapons in glass cases. Priests stored them with brief descriptions about their materials, the artisan who made them and their histories, if any. Five exhibits were sabers, seven were swords, only two of which were long-swords.
Wolf first eyed the long-swords. One was a disgustingly tacky thing no true swordsman would use. To make matters worse, Wolf felt no murderous aura from it. Nobody used it to kill.
The other one was a relatively functional blade. Unfortunately, it was worse than Van Dale’s sword and several grades inferior to the silver-hilted sword. Wolf’s lip twisted as he looked at it. Still, it was the best piece in that vault. He wanted to inquire about its price, when a familiar voice echoed inside his head.
Young man, I will do you a favor. You are discerning enough to know these are no good. Do not buy useless junk. Instead, I suggest you purchase something else from this establishment. Ask for the mysterious avarium cube from their miscellaneous items’ vault. Then purchase ten kilos of adamantium and ten kilos of mithril.
Wolf didn’t know the speaker. However, he had that frustrating feeling when a word’s at the tip of your tongue, yet no matter how hard you think, the word eludes you. He knew he’d heard this voice long, long ago, in a dream. That was enough for Wolf to guess the mysterious person’s identity.
Having nothing to lose, Wolf faced the abbot. “Excuse me. Do you have an avarium cube in your miscellaneous items vault?”
Abbot’s eyebrows shot up. She never expected Wolf would ask about a mysterious item sitting in their storage for half a decade instead of inspecting the weapons.
“We do?” Confusion leaked into the elderly woman’s voice. “But we don’t know what it’s for? And I’m fairly certain it has nothing to do with swords.”
How did he learn of that item? The abbot’s brows furrowed. We got it from the Northshield branch six years ago, and they got it from Spirit knows where fourteen years before that.
The woman quickly went through everything she knew regarding the unidentified magic item in their store. The list was short. She knew where her temple got it, and she knew the church failed to identify it, no matter which magical or mundane method they used.
“The truth is none of these swords suit me. Especially this thing.” Wolf pointed his chin towards the tacky sword with disdain. “Since none of them suit me, and I know you have a mysterious item, I would like to purchase it and not return empty-handed.”
“I’m afraid I can’t sell it to you.” The abbot shook her head after a moment’s hesitation. “This item is unknown. No matter what quote I make, it will be unfair.”
Wolf understood the woman’s dilemma. Luckily he had an idea on how to handle it. “How about I pay based on its weight and material?”
The woman shook her head again. “I cannot agree to that. It could be iron inside with an avarium finish. Besides, the value of the creator’s knowledge and artistry could be so high it dwarfs the material’s worth. Purchasing this is gambling.”
Hearing the last word, Wolf had an idea. “But gambling is innately fair.”
The woman shook her head yet again. “That discussion is from the Prophet’s reforms. Prophet decreed gambling doesn’t exist. What exists is the difference in awareness and perception. The party in the know isn’t gambling, they are exploiting, and exploitation and cheating are the greatest taboos of our Good Spirit.”
Just sell it, Wolf wanted to shout, but raising his voice wouldn’t help. Instead, he used his brain. “How about this, I pay assuming the cube is pure avarium?”
The abbot was about to speak, but Wolf didn’t let her.
“Then,” he said with a raised finger. “Then, if we discover I have overpaid, I will come to your church and demand a refund. If we discover I have underpaid you, I will come to your church and compensate you for the difference. How does that sound?”
The abbot remained silent for a moment before opening her mouth.
“It sounds fair.” She nodded and smiled approvingly, revealing her teeth. “That would be sixty-nine thousand one hundred and twenty gold coins.”
Wolf nearly had a heart attack. That was more than half his money, including the leftovers he had from all his previous adventures, as well as the Academic Credits he exchanged this morning.
“May I see it? I don’t have to go to that vault. It’s fine if you bring it out for me.” Wolf maintained a straight face, hiding his despair.
