After saving the village, the quintet continued their journey toward Vestrix, stopping along the way at the famous Merchant Circle—a gathering held only twice a year in the realm of Grass Mark, each time in a different locale. Marabel, excited and animated, explained that this was where all the renowned merchants gathered, from the kingdoms in the sky to the depths of the sea. This time, the circle was held in the bustling kingdom of Abbeyton, a vibrant tapestry of vendors selling everything from weapons to enchanted jewelry, rare creatures, and armory.

Once they arrived, the group split up to explore. Marabel eagerly set up her own vendor tent, ready to make some sales. Beatrice and Orvell wandered the stalls together, admiring beautiful artifacts, finely crafted weapons, and glimmering armor pieces. Raven networked through the crowd, making connections and promoting her services. Meanwhile, Minerva, still mourning Voi’s loss, chose to meditate at their inn, seeking peace in solitude.

As he browsed, Orvell decided to replace his sword, which had taken quite a beating from their recent battles. He also picked up a new, sturdier greatsword for Beatrice, along with a pendant as a small gift. Vendors who recognized him tried to offer their wares for free, but he graciously declined, determined to pay his way.

As the night settled, Beatrice headed to Minerva’s room to check on her. She found Minerva lying on the floor with a grimoire over her face. "How are you doing, Minerva?” Beatrice asked, letting herself in.

Minerva sighed and removed the book from her face, revealing tired eyes. “I feel heavy… lost. I can’t believe I’ve lost two of the things I cherished most,” she admitted quietly.

Beatrice knelt beside her, a look of sympathy in her eyes. “Orvell and I are here for you, you know. We’ll always be by your side.”

Minerva sat up slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor. “But that’s the thing,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “You two have each other. I don’t.”

Without a word, Beatrice reached over and pulled Minerva into a hug, brushing her fingers through Minerva’s long black hair. “That’s not true. You’re strong, independent, and fearless—you’ve shown us all that. Orvell once told me that from the moment he met you, he knew you’d surpass him someday. That’s why he joined you on that first quest. He knew you’d become the strongest adventurer anyone had ever known. Honestly, I envy you, Minerva. I don’t think I could be as brave without Orvell at my side.”

Minerva’s lips lifted in a small smile. “Thanks, Bea. I needed to hear that.” She paused, then smirked mischievously. “But, you know… your chest is a bit too petite to be all that comforting.”

Beatrice immediately let go, flustered and defensive. “Hey! My king likes them just fine!” She glanced down, noticing the size difference between them, her face reddening as she huffed and stormed out of the room. Minerva chuckled, her heart a bit lighter, grateful for her friends’ unwavering presence.

After saving the village, the quintet moved closer to Vestrix, stopping at the bustling Merchant Circle. Marabel was thrilled, explaining to the others that this rare event, held twice a year across Grass Mark, gathered famed merchants from realms near and far—from kingdoms in the sky to those hidden in the sea. This time, Abbeyton hosted the event, its streets alive with the glow of magical goods, rare armory, enchanted jewels, and stalls of creature tamers.

Upon arrival, the group split up. Marabel eagerly set up her own vendor tent, Beatrice and Orvell browsed the stalls together, and Raven networked with various traders. Meanwhile, Minerva, still grieving the loss of Voi, chose to meditate in the quiet of their inn.

As he pursued the vendors, Orvell decided to replace his well-worn sword. He also picked up a new greatsword and a delicate pendant as a gift for Beatrice. Recognizing him, some vendors offered their wares for free, but Orvell kindly insisted on paying.

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That evening, Beatrice, getting ready for bed, asked Orvell, “Darling, why didn’t you ever pursue Minerva?” Orvell, sharpening his sword at the desk, chuckled. “Oh, I knew she wasn’t interested in men from the first day we met.”

Beatrice laughed, “True… Do you like her…you know, chest?”

Orvell nearly dropped his sword. “What? No!” He stammered, “The only chest I care about is yours!”

Beatrice smiled, more confident now, and began undressing. “Well, it’s been a while…” Orvell quickly set his things aside, joining her with a grin.

The next morning, Orvell stopped by Marabel’s stall. “So, how’s business?” he asked.

“I’ve made about nine hundred silver so far,” Marabel replied, grinning. Orvell looked over the items she was selling and asked, “How did you gather so much so quickly?”

Marabel held up a glittering blue gem. “With this transport gem. It lets us merchants access items from our warehouses, wherever we are.”

Orvell examined the gem with curiosity. “And it only links to your warehouse?”

“Yep,” Marabel explained. “They’re rare since they can only be found from zone dragons. Zone dragons are deeply territorial and melt if they leave their zones. But once in a while, they… er, leave a gem in their droppings.”

Orvell wrinkled his nose. “So, you’re saying you’ve got to… dig through dragon dung?”

Marabel nodded, unfazed. “It’s all worth it!”

She then noticed the new sword Orvell had bought and remarked, “This sword is terrible—it’s practically falling apart!”

“Really?” Orvell asked. “How can you tell?”

“Rushed craftsmanship,” she shrugged. “Come with me to my warehouse. I have a better shield for you.”

Taking Orvell’s hand, Marabel tossed the gem onto the ground, and a portal opened. Just before they entered, she teased, “You’re not gonna puke, are you? I can’t have that on my inventory!”

Orvell shook his head, but before he could respond, Marabel pushed him through. Once inside, Orvell was stunned by the sight—stacks of artifacts, enchanted weapons, and treasures from across the realms. Laughing, he quipped, “You’re a kleptomaniac, aren’t you?”

Marabel blushed, “Yeah, maybe a little…”

Orvell’s eyes caught on a pearl armor set with a blue pigment and crown-like helmet, emanating an intense mana pressure. “What’s this?”

“That’s the armor of the Exiled Wizard, also known as ‘One More Light,’” Marabel explained. “He began as a wizard but later became a knight, mastering sword magic that let him absorb any blade and mimic its wielder’s style.”

“Impressive,” Orvell replied. “Heavy armor for a wizard, though.”

“It adapts to whoever wears it,” Marabel explained, pressing a spot on the chest piece to shrink it into a small cube. Orvell was amazed, but when Marabel offered it, he politely declined, asking instead if he could keep it in his armory for safekeeping.

Marabel agreed and then showed him the shield and sword set she had chosen. The shield retracted for easier carrying, and the sword was crafted from powerful magical gems. “I found these after a battle of the mages. The sword and shield are spell-focused; they amplify the caster’s accuracy and power.”

Orvell strapped on the gauntlet with the shield and gripped the sword handle, admiring how they adjusted to him. “Thank you, Marabel,” he said sincerely as they left the warehouse.

Back in Abbeyton, Orvell eagerly showed Beatrice the new gear. She marveled at how his enchantments would now apply more quickly and reliably—and how he could share the enhancements with others. As the Merchant Circle wound down, Marabel decided to remain in Abbeyton, feeling it was where she belonged. She provided the group with a letter ensuring their safe passage into Vestrix and bid them farewell.

Waving back at Marabel, the remaining quartet set off once more, each step taking them closer to their next adventure.