Rick fought to keep a grimace off of his face at just how familiar the inside of the Hunter’s Bureau was.

Cleaner, better kept, new but the same layout of a thousand other town’s mission halls. They’d had different names. Some converted barns, others a carved out cavern, or a broken monastery, a side room to a factory, a tavern, an inn.

This was a square building with requests along the right wall, counters took up the back wall. Those against the request wall issued and received missions. Those to the left bought and sold various items such as weapons, armor and materials.

Rick took his time walking through the space. The largest store was selling sound talismans of various kinds. He shivered at the prices he could see.

Something like the one Len had made from the street tiles would cost a gold coin.

His eyes jumping to the various magical artifacts, rudimentary things. Some to cool areas. Others that could create an endless flame, each secured behind heavy glass with guards nearby and outrageous price tags.

Looking to make every damn copper they can off of people. The Hunter Bureau paid the most for magical gear, but it also allowed them to set the prices for everything, taking it well outside of normal people’s means.

Rick walked over to the material seller, the counter set up similar to the administrative staffs. A sleepy and bored attendant blinked his eyes as Rick walked up to him.

“What materials do you have?”

"We've got all kinds of different materials." The man pushed himself out of his seat and grabbing a ledger from underneath the counter. "We've got regular steel, imbued steel, and then we've got some mithril. All the rarest and highest quality material you could possibly ever want."

Rick nodded along. Steel was decent for conducting mana, being an uncommon material. Imbued steel allowed it to have greater resonance with mana. Not enough for it to reach the rare grade of mithril, but a strong advantage of about twenty percent.

He opened the ledger and turned it towards Rick.

Rick fought not to swear as he looked at the prices for imbued steel and mithril.

A kilo of iron would run you five coppers while steel was Ninety a kilo, imbued steel was ninety silver per kilo. Mithril was ten gold per kilo but there was only seven kilos for sale.

Rick flipped through the remaining pages. "What are your reagents, your alloys, and such? Catalysts?" He asked.

"Uh, we got the metals, we've got some hides, bones as well. Reagents or catalysts? I'm not sure, I haven't heard of those before," the man said, showing his ineptitude with metallurgy.

Rick nodded along. It seemed that they hadn't yet started to understand the reaction of different metals with different materials. Just as how iron became steel once you changed the carbon content and alloyed it with other materials, you could do the same with various higher-grade metals. While he had enough to buy several dozen ingots of steel, buying the imbued steel would have been a good idea.

Though he could buy that in the lower trade district and give the hunter Bureau as little as possible.

"Who would I talk to about getting ingredients for potions and such?" He closed the ledger and handed it back to the man.

"Best would be to check over with Melody. She's got all the kind of ingredients you could want for potions. Though I don't know about potions, she does have various unguents and solutions for sale," he said.

“Ah, this is more than I thought it would be,” Rick scratched his head sheepishly and passed back the paper.

The attendant nodded and put it away. “Have a good day.” He said, dismissing Rick and sitting back down in his chair to half doze off again.

I don't blame him Rick thought to himself. There was no one here in their right mind who would be paying so much for a chunk of metal. He frowned to himself. "Well, if that's how much it costs for me to buy it, How much must the Hunter's Bureau be buying it for?" Rick clicked his tongue.

He stepped back out, casting a closer eye on the requests along the wall. Most for places beyond the city, beast sightings and anomalies to be checked out. The prices reflected the danger. Just a few missions would be enough to set one up for life. Though there was a mark on each contract with a littler term.

*Must be Hunter Bureau member to accept mission.

Rick shook his head as he made his way over to the chemical booth. Above the counter said, Olwells, Chemical Formulations. Was artfully written in black and backed in gold.

The back wall was covered in various bottles and concoctions, all of them relatively fresh.

Only five different kinds of concoctions by the color. Rick slowed his walk, a group of hunters finishing off their business at the counter.

They wore fine clothing and weapons, copper Hunter Bureau emblems on their chest.

One at the back of the group of four nudged their partner, tilting their head back to Rick.

She looked back, snorted, shook her head and looked forward again.

"Safe travels.” The woman behind the counter said to a departing group of adventurers. Rick moved to the side, letting them pass before he stepped up to the counter.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you today?" Melody asked.

"I'm guessing you're Melody," Rick said.

“Yes sir,” Her smile deepened.

“What concoctions do you have for sale?”

“We have a manner of different and revolutionary new pharmaceuticals,” She waved to the wall behind her. There was a red potion, a cream, a green potion and then a yellow and brown potion, each in stylized and ornate glassware. “Our best sellers are our healing concoctions, stamina concoctions, even hair dying concoctions," she said with a bright smile.

"Awesome. How much for your healing concoctions?" Rick said.

Melody looked taken aback, probably unused to such a customer who walked through such a spiel easily. Medical science had reached the point where one could survive infections and broken bones, but not to the point where everyone was cared for.

If one was to break a bone, say, it usually led to them being crippled for life, or if one got an infection, it was, while easier for them to survive, costly to do so with current drugs and pharmaceuticals.

"Have you bought health or stamina potions before?" she asked.

"Yeah, I've had a few in my time," Rick said. "How potent are these ones?"

"Well, sir, we have two varieties of health potions and a single stamina potion. A single stamina potion can remove the need to eat for an entire day," she said, getting into her spiel, she pointed to the green potion.

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Save you from eating an entire day? What a waste. Stamina potions were could, yes, suppress one's appetite, but most of the time it was used because the energy required by a cultivator's body was so more than what they could get from normal food that after battle they could quickly take one, becoming alert and satiated and ready to fight again afresh, essentially replenishing the body's energy supply.

If you were fighting for days on end or marching for weeks you could have one and feel rested and energetic.

He and Len had been drinking them like they were water on the mission to attack the God Emperor’s Vault.

"Uh, interesting," Rick said, "and the health potion?" he asked, worried about the response.

"Well, with our health potion, we have two varieties, the topical application and the consumable variant.” She pointed at the cream and the red potion.

Both are consumable if you're wiping it on yourself or drinking it. He nodded on the outside. "The topical application is something one can apply to any wound they receive. It will start immediately repairing the wound site. In just a matter of minutes, you can wipe off the residue, leaving no blemish upon their skin. It also works if anyone has scars or other kinds of blemishes they wish to remove. Very popular among the ladies," she said, giving him a wink.

Rick gave her a tight smile. Scars and blemishes. It was great if one had been hit with aerolized acids, or hit with hot and cold attacks, or were bleeding the hell out.

He just nodded for her to continue. "And the consumable potion, it has been known to help one with stronger and often hidden injuries that have persisted for a long period of time.” She assured him. “Broken bones, consistent coughing, even maladies of the mind," she leaned back, as if expecting a reaction.

"Very interesting," Rick said, buying himself time to think. He knew what they’d do it was just figuring out how strong they were really.

Topical, that must be some kind of paste that you put on wounds. It should clean out the wound of infection and close it up over time. Useful, but low-grade, probably common, I would think. The actual potion itself, that might be uncommon grade, so dealing with minor injuries and ailments. Possibly used the potion with some kind of other ingredients to make the cream. While he knew how to make uncommon grade potions, it took time, knowledge, equipment, and ingredients to complete. Rare was well beyond his skills.

While we're heading to the obelisk, we might find some ingredients along the way, but it is always better to have an item and not need it, and need an item and not have it.

Len was right. How many times they had used potions, pulling themselves back from the brink of death, allowing them to recover from wounds that would have left them crippled or useless for the fight coming up?

"How much for the healing potions?" Rick asked.

"For the healing potions, that will be two gold each, and for the cream, that will be one gold each," Melody said.

Rick tried not to show his frustration, as he mentally went through his own savings. As well as the cost of items he would have. At least the materials had shown the cost of steel ingots. Based on that, it should come out to cost me two and a half gold to make the armor and weapons. Plus canteens.

"Alright, I'll take a healing potion and one of the ungents.” He started pulling out the coins and putting them on the counter.

"Right away," Melody said, quickly moving to the cupboards behind the counter. "Would you like those wrapped up in a box or a bag?"

"I'll take a bag," Rick said, sorting through the coins.

"Well look who we have here," someone said behind him. Rick glanced back to see three boys wearing Valoria Academy uniforms, weapons on their hips.

He closed his eyes, shuddering and looked back over the counter. How could they do that to weapons? There was gold filigree, gems, tassels, all kinds of crap on them.

“Too scared to face us?” The boy who’d spoken laughed, moving closer.

Melody put the unguent in the bag.

“Dunno who you are, don’t care, doing some business here,” Rick put the last of his coins on the table, in three piles that equalled a gold coin each. "Don’t know you lads, nor care to." he sighed, unable to keep the tiredness out of his voice.

Though his heart was beating faster, picking out where all three were. Using pulses of mana resonating with that in the air he could see everything around him.

It took a level of will that few could compare to even in the later stages of the apocalypse.

It wasn’t a domain that he was used to. Though it allowed him to sense and see everything happening around him the faster the pulses went out and returned to him the greater detail he could see.

Controlling mana outside the body, it was hard for someone with a single core to do. He was sending out hundreds of pulses over a minute with iron will.

Letting him see how the boy in the front frowned at the use of the word ‘lads’ "Who do you think you are? Isendia? You knight's mongrel. Don't you know when to bow to true nobility?" The man swaggered forward, his steps more forcible.

“Nobility, the idea that because our ancestors did something that we’re somehow better than others? Basically shitty dog or horse stock,” Rick shook his head. Nobility didn’t make you any better or worse than anyone, just got different parents and some weird history.

"Oh well, I don't think that you know anything about civilization. I heard what happened at the parade this morning. What an uncouth dog you are.” The boy said lazily with the kind of grin that showed malice and enjoyment at another's coming suffering.

“Wow, really? Uncouth dog? That's the best you got? My grandmother could curse you out worse if you woke her up accidentally." Rick said. His memories turned fond. “She’s a fucking terror in the morning.” He snorted, a smile sneaking out.

"Your grandmother? You mean that ailing witch? I hear she's nearly on her death's door," the man laughed, turning to his friends.

He moved up to the counter and swiped his hand through the coin.

“Fucking silvers and coppers,” he turned back to his two friends, their laughter cruel and eager.

Stupid.

Rick’s grin flared to life, he swung his elbow into smug prick one’s neck, he crumpled like a shitty paper bag hit by a train going full steam. He swung the leg The lad hitting the counter with his head on the way down.

He gurgled as he grasped for his displaced Adam's apple. The two boys' eyes bugged out as they saw their friend on the ground.

Rick punched the one on the right in the family jewels. If he drew his sword he’d be in the best position to hurt Rick.

He folded, Rick pushing mana into his body, stepping up infront of the last boy, grabbed the lapels of his jacket as he fumbled for his sword, unable to even get it out of the scabbard, Rick planted his forehead into his nose.

The boy cried out at the loss of his pretty boy looks, blood covering him and the floor.

The boys were coughing, gurgling or crying out.

Rick rolled his shoulders, setting his jacket. “Feels good getting the blood pumping.” He kneeled down next to fumble-fucking.

“Any girl you meet is going to be sorely disappointed in your skills,” Rick muttered as he pulled the man’s dagger out, cutting the sword belt and throwing it away.

His pings of mana allowed him to find the metal in the boy’s jacket.

As he threw the big shiny distracting sword, he slipped his hand through the man’s clothes, adding a coin pouch to his own pockets.

He swiftly repeated the process on the two other boys and made sure they wouldn’t die. It took him all of a handful of seconds. A few guards moving over to the counter.

Rick stepped towards the counter, finding Melody with his collected items. “Extra gold in it for you if you can get me three more health potions and two unguents as well," Rick said. Pulling the gold from the coin purses and putting them on the counter.

Her eyes darted between the uniform crests. Opened up a drawer and quickly added the potions.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” She said.

He winked at her and moved around the boys, heading past the approaching guards and for the door.

He glanced back at the three boys struggling on the floor. And that's the best that the Valoria Academy can come up with? He shook his head. Fighting, real fighting took more than just knowing about tactics, or whose family knew whose family, and which lands they owned.

Fighting required an understanding of violence, a dedication to action, and the removal of hesitation. That boy hadn't even been able to get his sword out of his scabbard.

How the hell do they think they're ready for the apocalypse?

The short answer was, they didn't. Plynthia had been so peaceful for so long, many had forgotten what war was, what fighting was.

The most fighting they did was in duels, regulated affairs where it mattered where you could poke someone. Not in the ungentlemanly and survivally sport of throat punches and dick kicks, Rick mused.

"That's Duke. Crenda's son," someone said.

"Time to get the fuck out of here," Rick thought, quickening his pace out of the Hunter's Bureau. Duke’s sound important.

Thanks for the money! Hope they don’t procreate.

Rick stepped out of the bureau and headed for the lower market district.

Rick’s feet guided him through the city, checking the marked signs for where he was going.

The trade district was filled with the sounds of work. None of the peaceful quiet of the upper business district. Horses drew forward their carts laden with goods. Farriers worked on some’s hooves. Blacksmiths toiled on various tools and parts.

Tailors and clothiers greeted customers and toured them through their goods.

Everything and anything was on sale here.

Rick’s steps slowed just seeing how much was available.

Even in the later stages of the apocalypse where things got a bit more stable. Mining could lead to running into elementals, creatures from the dark and all kinds of nasty shit. Farming was done with the aide of enchantments to meet needs and not put people in the danger of farming beyond a city’s protection.

His pace slowed, his heart swelling. Sweet sweet metal, Daddy’s here to make you weapons and armor.

A smoky tear rolled down his eye as his pace quickened.

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