We continued our journey the following day and reached another rest stop by midday. It had fewer people than the previous one—probably because it was the middle of the day—but I stopped, anyway. The air was fresh, carrying a hint of pine from the nearby forest, and birds chirping created a pleasant background symphony. After lunch, I approached a large group of people, feeling the sun’s warmth on my back and the subtle rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

“Greetings, I am a merchant and a skilled healer. If you require any of my services, I am at your disposal,” I announced, radiating confidence despite the unfamiliar surroundings. I maintained a composed demeanor, my eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of interest or doubt.

One man stepped forward, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. “What do you have?”

“What interests you? Tell me, and I’ll show you.” I replied smoothly, my heartbeat quickening a bit.

A woman beside him lightly nudged his arm, her expression transitioning from curiosity to concern. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves. If he is indeed a healer, he can assist Reno.” She turned to me, her eyes pleading. “Can you mend bones?”

“Yes, I can,” I said with a nod.

“Come with me.” She led me to a cart with a teenager sitting in it, his face contorted in pain. “He thinks he’s a russ and climbs every tree he sees; maybe now he will learn his lesson.” She sighed, shaking her head fondly.

The boy winced but said nothing. His pride clearly wounded more than his body. I knelt beside him and diagnosed him quickly—a sprained ankle and a badly bruised knee. Placing my hands gently on his injuries, I cast Healing Touch. A warm glow enveloped my hands and flowed into the boy, mending his injuries with a gentle hum of magic. He hardly used any of his energy, being otherwise healthy.

He hopped off the cart, testing his healed ankle with a cautious smile before giving his mother a sheepish look and running back to the rest of the group, his footsteps light and joyous.

“How much for the healing?” the woman asked, her eyes filled with gratitude.

“Three copper,” I replied, watching her reaction closely.

She looked surprised but paid me without hesitation. “Why did you look so surprised when I told you the price?”

“I never met a healer that charged less than a silver for anything.” She said, her brows knitting together in confusion.

“Ahh, I like to help people and don’t like to exploit them.” I shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed but also proud of my principles.

She patted my shoulder warmly and said, “You are a good man. A little young and naïve maybe, but a good person.”

I blushed and thanked her; the praise made me proud and bashful. We returned to the group, and I showed them some of my goods. The men admired my jeans; the sturdy fabric and modern design intrigued them. I displayed more jeans, and they were an instant hit. The zippers captivated the women, calling them a “clever invention.” I showed them a box full of zippers in every color and length. Initially, I was unsure about the zippers when I bought all the sewing supplies, but now I was glad I did. They went crazy over them. The Appraisal said they were worth a silver each, but I sold them for 7 coppers; I still felt uncomfortable charging the full Appraisal price.

The women’s excitement grew as I displayed my other sewing and knitting supplies. When one of them mentioned they were a traveling theatre group, an idea sparked in my mind.

“I also have theatre costumes,” I announced, pulling out evening gowns, men’s jackets, and colorful clothes from my Storage. Their eyes widened at the sight.

“Those are noble clothes, not costumes.” One woman exclaimed, her fingers brushing against the delicate fabric.

“Those are costumes of noble clothes, so they are cheaper.” I countered smoothly, my Merchant class instincts guiding my words.

I ended up selling them a nice assortment of clothes, two rolls of fabric—one in red and one in purple—the sewing supplies, jeans, all the marionettes I had, some pillows, blankets, and cookware. Counting all the silver and copper, I made 37 gold, 5 silver, and 2 copper. They were good customers, and the air buzzed with their excitement and satisfaction. Stretch made friends with the boy I healed, and they ran around the rest stop, the boy’s laughter ringing through the air. I found their antics adorable despite the occasional grumble from others.

Other people approached me, and I sold a few more items, though significantly less than before. I made another 3 gold and 1 silver, mostly in copper coins. After spending about two hours at the rest stop, I decided to continue and reach the next rest stop or camp on the road.

By evening, we arrived at another rest stop. I made some sales and did some healing before spreading out my blanket and settling down for the night. Stretch found some children to play with and had a lot of fun while I “worked.”

The following day, after a few hours of traveling, we reached a town that looked very similar to the one I had visited. The road cut through the town, with shops on either side, streets with houses branching off the main road, and fields stretching out in the distance, their greenery glistening with morning dew.

I located the inn, which looked similar to the other one, and went in. The warm, inviting scent of baked bread and stew wafted from the kitchen.

“Hello, traveler.” The innkeeper greeted me with a friendly smile.

“Good day. I want a room for two nights, three meals a day, and a hot bath in my room every day.”

“Two silver and four coppers. Food for the dog is another silver for two days.”

“There’s no need; I have food for him. It’s only for me, and he will stay in my room.”

“It’s your room, do what you want.” He replied with a nonchalant shrug. I really liked this world’s policy about pets.

“I’m also a healer and merchant. If you’re interested, I have fancy dishes to serve nobles. Also, if people in town need healing, I’ll rent another room tomorrow to treat them, if you don’t object to your inn turning into a treatment center.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“A healer is always welcome; I will spread the word. For the dishes, I will call my wife.”

He called his wife from the kitchen, and I spent an hour showing her my goods. She bought fewer cookware items than I had expected but a lot of linen and was delighted with the prints, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

It started raining again during the night. Ugh. The sound of rain pattering against the roof was soothing and frustrating, given the inconvenience it had caused.

In the morning, I had a full common room waiting for healing. After breakfast, I rented another room, moved the bed aside, brought two wooden chairs from the common room—made a mental note to buy some regular chairs for such occasions—and told the people to arrange themselves by order of severity. I began treating them, my hands glowing softly with healing magic.

In my experiments with the mukar/bison, I learned to control the amount of mana I used. When healing, I tried to use the minimum amount of mana needed for each person. It worked! By the end of the day, I had treated everyone—this time, no operations required—and still had a little mana left: 370/6900. The satisfaction of helping so many people filled me with a warm glow, despite my exhaustion.

I paid for another two days in the inn—it was still raining, and I needed to regenerate—had dinner, and went to sleep, the rhythmic patter of rain a lullaby that eased me into slumber.

The following day, it was still raining. I went to the general store to offer my merchandise. Stretch refused to leave the inn, found a pleasant spot in front of the fire, and went back to sleep—lazy dog.

The shopkeeper was more amenable and bought quite a lot of general household goods and cookware for his store, not only for himself and his family. He used the hated “too fancy” a few times, but I forgave him. This store also had a bucket with damaged used swords.

Standard display method?

I had an idea and took one sword.

“Damaged Iron Sword, five copper.” I read aloud, appraising the item.

“How much?” I asked, holding up the sword.

“One silver.” The shopkeeper replied.

“One silver?! Please remember I’m a merchant, not just a person from the street. I know how much things are worth.” I countered, my tone firm.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, thought for a moment, and said, “Four coppers.”

“That’s more like it, I’ll take it.” I agreed, feeling a small thrill of victory.

Outside, I cast Mend on the sword. The chips and nicks disappeared, but it still looked terrible. I cast Clean, and the dirt and rust that was flaking off disappeared, but it was still rusty.

Hmm.

Purify did nothing, and neither did Cleanse. I was stumped. Standing in the rain, the cool droplets running down my face, I thought for a moment and then got an idea. I checked the Spell list and found Restore. It also cost two ability points, like the light spell, and was a channeled spell. With 41 ability points left, I was worried; it was my first world, and I had already spent 9 points. Maybe I didn’t “farm” enough points?

I channeled the spell into the sword and watched as it restored.

Magic is awesome.

Returning to the store, I appraised all the junk swords, and calculated a total of 1 gold, 1 silver, and 3 copper.

“I’ll give you a gold for all the swords.” I offered.

He thought about it and agreed. Restoring all the swords right now was not my intention. I was still low on mana and regenerating, so I stored them and decided to handle them later. I looked around the store again, searching for other things I could use this spell on, but I saw nothing.

“Do you have other damaged cheap things?” I asked.

“Why damaged?” He replied, curiosity piqued.

“Not everybody can afford good new things. I have a lot of good things, but nothing for poorer people.” I explained.

“Just a moment.” He said, and went back and forth from the back of the store to the front, bringing out three saddles that had seen better days, five swords—two of them extra-large—two axes, and a bow without a string. The saddles looked different from what I saw in the movies; they were shorter, thinner, and had more curvature in the seating area.

“How much for all of it?” I asked, my interest growing.

He thought about it and said, “Five gold.” My Appraisal showed a total of 6 gold and 3 silver. I paid him mostly in copper I got on the road, and some copper from my personal stock from Earth.

He looked at the copper from Earth. “I never saw coins like this; where did you get them?”

“From my homeland in the islands in the south,” I replied smoothly.

“Do you have more?” He asked, eyes gleaming with interest.

“Yes.”

He produced 63 gold and 41 silver coins and asked, “You think you have enough copper?”

“Yes, give me a minute,” I said. He looked at me strangely, but I didn’t ask why; I was getting used to this particular look.

I counted out 6,710 coppers—it took a while. He also liked the pouches. The Appraisal showed their worth at 1 silver, and I sold them for that price. He was pleased about the cost, probably because he thought it was genuine leather.

“I have more old weapons at home if you are interested.” He offered.

“Very interested,” I replied eagerly.

“Wait for me a few moments to close, and I’ll take you.”

I waited outside, the rain continuing to pour. After a few minutes, he joined me and took me to his home. It was a lovely two-story house made from wood and stone. It also looked fancier than its neighbors. He led me around the back to a big wooden shed and opened it. Inside was an extensive assortment of old and rusty weapons.

“Why so many weapons, and why are they in such terrible condition?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“After the war, many people sold their weapons, and my father bought them thinking of reselling, but nobody was buying weapons, so he got stuck with them. He also tried selling them to blacksmiths, but with the low prices of ores because of the mines in the north, nobody was willing to pay the full price. I try to take care of them so they won’t turn to rust, but it’s a lot of work, and I’m no expert. Once, I paid a metal mage to improve them or do something, but he could only stop their deterioration.” He explained with a sigh.

“I see. How much for everything?” I asked, my mind already buzzing with possibilities.

“You sure? A lot of them are in terrible condition.” He said, eyeing me skeptically.

“Yes, I like a challenge,” I replied with a grin. He gave me another funny look but said nothing.

He started sorting through the weapons, picking this and that one and looking at them. I think he also had Appraisal or something similar because his eyes kept getting out of focus. After ten or fifteen minutes, he said, “Fifty gold if you pay in regular coins. Forty-eight if you pay with the fancy copper.”

I counted out another 4,800 “fancy” coppers and stored everything. My plan was to restore them in the evenings when I stopped for the night, if my mana was full.

I returned to the inn, took a long hot bath, had lunch, and spent the rest of the day, and the next one, in front of the fire with a book. Stretch had the right idea about the essential things in life—a lazy, smart dog.

After two days, it was still raining, but we left to continue our journey. I didn’t want to get stuck for a week or two because of the rain, and the road looked still usable. My mana wasn’t full yet, only 5100/6900, but I could always regenerate on the way.

Our journey to the capital continued like this for another three weeks. One or two rest stops a day, making camp in the forest in my “fancy” tent, a town after a day or two on the road, healing people, selling some stuff at rest stops and the general store, buying old, junky weapons and other stuff left mainly from the war, and two days to regenerate and get out of the rain. The rain finally stopped after two weeks, and I wanted to kiss the heavens. Maybe I was the spoiled one; the rest of the people on the road didn’t seem to mind it much.

After three weeks, I saw we were getting close to the capital. We had only one more town after the one we were in. Stretch ate much more than usual for the last two days and slept a lot. I identified him.

Stretch

Adult Bushland Dog

Progress to awakening 98%

Okay!!

I didn’t know what awakening entailed, but I thought the town wasn’t the best place. Thank God I finished the healing yesterday. I took out my bicycle, woke Stretch, who wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea, and headed out of town.