A tinkling pouch landed on the wooden counter before David.
“You may take on a higher loan using your earlier eliminations as a deposit, sir.” The elven receptionist repeated, looking into his eyes, “But since you do not wish to take on the risk of repaying the interest rate, this is all the Familia can offer.”
David’s eyes narrowed. Even though he wasn’t good at scheming and hated politics, he could sense that something was off with the receptionist. She wore a good poker face, but something in her tone struck him as odd—was it displeasure or even fear?
She hadn’t seemed afraid of the Horde before. What changed?
Maybe he was reading too much into it. His perception had been wrong before."
He reached for the pouch and looked inside, revealing one Silver slate and dozens of Bronze slates. That was a small fortune, but it drastically increased David’s wealth.
Killing the Alpha Fang was worth it.
“Can I help you with something else, sir?” The receptionist inquired. “The Familia offers free potions and serums to those brave warriors willing to face the Horde head-on.”
“What’s the difference?” David cocked an eyebrow.
“The difference between a serum and potions? Serums are known to be more potent than ordinary potions. However, you may only consume three doses of serum a day. Even consuming this many doses of serum will harm your body and harm you in ways you cannot imagine once the effective period wears off. Potions are less potent – some say impure –, but you can use more than a dozen potions before your body cannot take any more.”
David nodded understandingly. Serums seemed more dangerous, but they sounded like battle stimulants. An enhancement drug that would help you through the day. Either you would survive the Horde and feel like shit, one way or another, or you died fighting, and the aftermath of using too many serum doses wouldn’t matter. The dead didn’t care about drugs
“What serums are there, and how many can I get?”
“Because of your accomplishment, the Familia can give you two serums or six potions on the house. If you wish to purchase more goods, you will have to pay three Bronze for every serum and one Bronze per potion.”
That was a lot more than David had expected. One Bronze was the equivalent of 100 Iron, enough to feed him with street food for an entire month and give him shelter for 10 days.
Looks like the Familia’s investing in Arc’s survival if they’re willing to arm every fighter with potions and serum.
“Unfortunately, we have only a few serums in Arc. The most popular serum is the Healing Serum. It fills your body with vigor and a unique mixture that ensures survival in grievous situations. It puts a heavy toll on your body but will save your life when you’re on the brink of death,” The receptionist explained.
David listened intently but discarded the Healing Serum almost immediately. It didn’t sound bad, but David could heal himself.
“The second serum is called Recovery Serum. It amplifies your natural recovery drastically. That includes health, stamina, and natural energy recovery. Since we do not know how big the Horde will be or how long the fight will last, we recommend you pick the Recovery Serum,” She said, sounding sincere, “Last but not least, we have the Mental Fortitude Serum. It amplifies your mental fortitude like the name suggested, but it refreshes your used-up mental power and lessens the mental exhaustion of Skill Rune applications.”
He didn’t have to weigh his options for long: the choice was obvious.
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“Give me three Mental Fortitude Serums, one Recovery Serum, and one Health Serum,” David retrieved nine Bronze slates and slid them across the counter.
It was a steep investment, but spending a fortune on his survival seemed worth it.
The Healing Serum initially seemed like a waste, yet having a trump up to his sleeves couldn't be bad. Even if his Holy Sea was dry and damaged, David could heal from grievous wounds using the Healing Serum.
The receptionist didn’t move for a moment. Her lips parted, but they closed a moment later. She walked away and returned with a black leather belt. The belt had several pouches, loops, and small compartments filled with five glass vials that glimmered vibrantly: three filled with purple liquid, one with a bluish-green liquid, and the last looked like blood.
“The Alchemy Belt is on the house,” the receptionist hinted at a smile as she handed him the belt. Be careful out there, and make sure the vials don’t break. They’re not easy to break, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”
David thanked the receptionist and buckled the Alchemy Belt. Once that was done, he was ready to leave.
Entering the Familia was a good move.
He learned something about an unknown powerhouse strong enough to easily cripple a Rift Boss – if the desperate man could be trusted –, he was generously paid for clearing the Fang Den, even if it was under the cover of a loan, and he received some freebies.
Satisfied with himself, David returned to the market square. This time he wasn’t on the hunt for good food.
There weren’t as many merchants conducting business compared to a few hours earlier, but that was fine with David. He searched for an anxious merchant who had the means to pay for his survival with a disgustingly high discount. Anxious but wealthy. That was his next target.
He strolled through the market square for a while, his eyes darting in all directions, and talked to two potential candidates, but they weren’t suitable. They moved restlessly, their expressions twisted in what looked to David like fear and uncertainty about the future, yet they remained true to their business-minded hearts. The merchants negotiated close to half an hour with David before they told him to leave.
‘Telling him to leave’ might have been too nice. They cursed at him, tried spitting on his boots, and told him to get ripped to shreds. It was an…interesting experience. At least he’d learned a lot.
The third time felt like a charm. David found a young elven man, a merchant, who was packing up. He rummaged through his stuff, said something in what David presumed to be curses in the elven tongue, and walked around mindlessly. The man fumbled and muttered, looking as overwhelmed as David hoped.
His eyes were dim, not lifeless, but as if they lacked the luster of vibrant life. The young elf’s short golden hair and pale, anxious expression made David think he might be the incarnation of anxiety.
David approached the merchant while the elf hurried to pack his belongings.
“Good afternoon. Is your shop still open, or are you done for the day?” He asked with a polite smile
“Good?! What in Yggdrasil’s rotten roots is good about this afternoon?” The merchant barked.
“The afternoon could be worse,” David shrugged, “Are you still open or not?”
“Fool. Don’t tell me you’re happy with everything happening to Arc? A rotten Horde is on the way to obliterate Arc and everyone stupid enough to stay here,” The merchant’s snarky commentary didn’t faze David. “And no. I am not open anymore. Unlike those other fools, I will pack up and leave this godforsaken place. Paying this rotten penalty fee is still much better than dying out here!”
“I heard the penalty fee is exorbitant. You must be a more competent merchant than you look like,” David said lightly, but the elf must have noticed the mockery in his voice.
“What do you want, brat? Are you trying to provoke me?! Do you want to die even before the Horde can get to you?”
“Die? I am not going to die,” David smiled confidently while lifting his right hand. He summoned the Obsidian Blade in it and played with the soulbound blade, “These Rifts are quite valuable. It wasn’t easy to clear one, but the rewards are quite nice.”
The merchant froze, his eyes lingering on the black blade, just as David had hoped. David saw a glimmer of life return to the merchant’s eyes as the elf’s mind began turning right on cue. The Obsidian Blade disappeared a moment later. It achieved the desired effect and could return to the mind space.
The merchant’s eyes had been glued to the weapon, but it didn’t take long before his attention diverted to David.
The merchant’s tone shifted, all business-like, “You didn’t come here to show off. What do you want from me?”
The corner of David’s lips tugged upward. The elf took his bait.
“Are you up for a gamble?”