They sold everything except the [Visage of the Owl] and the [Ore Crab Shell]. When they were finished, they had a nice collection of silver coins stored in a pouch, which Vesper couldn't stop peeking inside to marvel at.

"Seriously, it's only been two days," she murmured. "Heavens and Hells. Imagine when we level up."

When they met Flint in the adventuring hub town center, he had already taken the liberty to commission the [Ore Crab Shell] into armor pieces. As predicted, materials dropped by bosses were something crafters wanted to get their hands on to advance their class, so the cost wasn't terrible. Well within their growing means.

Unfortunately, it would still be a day or two before they got the finished result. Maybe a less studious adventuring group would take that time off and relax, but Morgana knew Vesper and Flint were as eager to continue delving as she herself was, so she doubted that would be happening.

There was one problem, though.

"Only two?" Vesper asked.

"Said the material would only stretch that far," Flint confirmed. "Two breastplates. I told him that was fine. It's not like Morgana needs one. She'll want to get mage's gear."

"Will she, though?" Vesper countered. "You're the one who's been saying she's got enough firepower. Doesn't need more intelligence. Wisdom maybe, but even that's not really needed. Could be smarter to get her decked out in something heavier. Wouldn't be what most mages would do, but does she look like a normal mage?"

Flint considered. "There's an argument to be made," he conceded. "But it's up to her. And it doesn't change the fact we're the melee fighters—we all need armor, but us two need it more. Especially since we'll be throwing ourselves at anything that tries to get to her." He faced Morgana. "It is worth considering picking something up, though. At least something basic. Leather cuirass, like us. We got the funds for it now."

Morgana nodded in agreement. "I might. I'll probably be heading back into town, so I'll handle it then. I want to get showered first, though."

"You got more business?" Vesper asked.

"I think I'll check out the Mage's Association you mentioned."

"Oh?"

Morgana considered how to phrase it politely. "While you two have been wonderful help, neither of you are the most…knowledgeable on how magic works. I want to speak to other mages. See what they have to say. Besides, networking is important, isn't it? That's why the associations exist." Unlike guilds, associations didn't have membership fees or anything like that—or at least, not required ones, to even enter the buildings. They were places for similarly-classed people to congregate for a number of reasons. To discuss strategies, best gear, how to use their skills, and so on. Things a guild might not necessarily be able to help with, since even a larger one would only have so many [Mages] or [Archers] or other such specific classes.

Vesper grunted. "Suppose I should check out the Rogue's Association, too. Could try to pry out some information about the second floor."

Morgana would try to do so as well, but that wasn't her primary goal. Rather, she wanted to see what other [Mages] knew of magic. There was only so much she could learn about the System by herself, with her current means.

After a fifteen-minute trek to Rune's guild, the party of three slowed as they took in an unexpected sight. A number of men in worker's uniforms were scattered around to the right of the guildhall—guildhouse?—erecting poles and flags, and drawing lines in the grass with bright paint. Rune herself was speaking with one of the men, gesticulating wildly as she spoke.

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Seeing them, Rune paused, then waved animatedly in greeting. Morgana waved back; she didn't think it was possible to not return Rune's earnestness.

"That girl is way too happy all the time," Vesper snorted quietly, also waving. "Something has to be wrong with her."

Morgana made a noise of amusement—and maybe the slightest bit of agreement.

"What do you think all of this is?" Vesper asked.

"Looks like preparations for construction," Morgana said. "Not that I would know for sure. But Rune mentioned something of the sort last night, didn't she?"

"She works fast."

"Where's she getting the money from?" Flint asked.

"Rich parents?" Vesper guessed.

"You think?"

"What else would it be?"

"Yeah, fair enough."

"I just hope it isn't too much of a bother," Morgana said, eying the workers. "And that they don't go too late." The noise and business in general would grow irritating if construction in this world was anything like back home. "But it needs to be done, I suppose."

"Having real housing will be nice," Vesper said. "Not that I'm complaining about having my own room. That's awesome already. But they are pretty tiny."

As they continued for the guildhouse, they caught sight of Gabbron out in his burgeoning field, situated far to the left, a decent distance out of the way. The man was essentially always working, except when he came in to eat. Cora was often out with him too, though the young golem girl probably wasn't much real help in the manual labor required for setting up his garden plots. They were just spending time together.

Even from how far they were, Morgana could hear the girl laughing in delight as Gabbron made some joke or another. It wasn't the first time Morgana had stolen a peek at the two of them while they were working.

It was more than a little odd, the contrast between Cora's lively, giggling nature when she was around Gabbron, and her sullen, silent demeanor when she was around anyone else. Why was she so distrustful, always throwing glares at them? Even Rune, who, if anyone in the world, Morgana would have figured safe from automatic dislike. Cora was never hostile, but certainly never friendly.

Just a quirk of hers? Kids could be weird, right? Morgana wouldn't know. The last time she'd interacted with one had been when she'd been a kid herself. There weren't many children running around the Institute, and Morgana had rarely ever left the Institute.

After getting cleaned up and dressed, Morgana returned to town with Vesper and Flint. They split off at the adventuring hub, seeking their respective class associations.

The Mage's Association was one of the only circular buildings in the adventuring hub. Six stories tall, it loomed over most others—though much thinner in comparison. In short, a tower. It seemed a mage's preference for tall and skinny buildings transcended her own culture. While no Ivory Institute, Morgana appreciated its construction: sturdy gray brick capped with a blue roof. Elegant and poised.

She walked up the steps but hesitated before opening the door. This expedition was going to be tricky. She wanted to poke and prod at the minds of other mages, and doing that without revealing her strange origins would be no easy task. Especially when she didn't consider herself all that skilled in social situations to begin with. Not awkward or bad around people, but…she was an academic who spent most of her days with a book in her lap. Enough said about that.

Taking a breath, Morgana pulled the door open and walked in. A lobby, expectedly, met her. She blinked as she took in the space, eyes adjusting to the dim light.

The air held a faint tang of smoke and the mustiness of old books. Shelves lined the walls, crammed full of tomes of all sizes, some spines worn and faded, others pristine. Several plush armchairs were arranged in cozy reading nooks, each with a small side table and an oil lamp. In the back, a spiral staircase wound upwards, disappearing above.

A few other mages occupied the space. An older man with a neatly trimmed silver beard sat hunched over a large book, taking notes with a quill. At another table, a young woman levitated a small object, her brow furrowed in concentration as she practiced manipulating it with precise gestures. A skill? One that required fine mental dexterity, based on the look of pure focus.

The quiet atmosphere instantly relaxed Morgana. Even at a glance, she could recognize that these were her people. Maybe not entirely, not true academics, but certainly more so than most others she had met thus far. She felt a bit silly for having been nervous.

There was still the matter of navigating these conversations without seeming suspicious, though. But [Mages] were one of the more esoteric classes; she could act like a clueless beginner, and no one would think twice about it. It was normal not to know much about magic.

Her eyes fell on the obvious starting point: the receptionist's desk, tucked away to the right. A woman was quietly reading there, seeming absorbed in the text.

Nodding to herself, Morgana let the door close behind her and headed in that direction.