Pell returned to the room, a large leather backpack slung over one shoulder, a bow and two rusted iron swords underneath his arms. As he entered, his eyes immediately went to the bookcase, checking if it remained securely in place against the wall, blocking any possible entry from the zombie. Luckily, it seemed completely unperturbed.

He turned his attention to Enya, who sat on the ground with her eyes closed. Her posture was upright and alert, not exactly the type of pose one would have while sleeping. Pell leaned the weapons against the wall and closed the door behind him before facing towards Enya once again.

"What are you doing?" Pell asked.

Enya opened her eyes, "I was just waiting for you. I was trying to concentrate and see if I could use my ability to focus on the spell circuit in my mind in the meantime."

"Okay... I see. Still trying to memorize the spell structures from the book?" Pell inquired, his tone a mix of anticipation and skepticism.

"Not really," Enya replied, shaking her head slightly. "I’ve already memorized all the patterns for the Summon Skeleton spell, but I don’t have enough mana to keep practicing it."

"What... do you mean you already memorized it?" Pell asked slowly.

Enya tilted her head. "I have already memorized the spell circuit. I know how the patterns are drawn and connected. But I don't have enough mana to practice. That’s why I was waiting for you," she said. "Do you, um, have any way for me to increase my mana?"

Pell's expression shifted to one of surprise. She had already memorized the structure for the Summon Skeleton spell? Pell himself couldn’t use circuits—well, he could manage simple ones that were pre-engraved, but creating one from scratch with mana required immense mental concentration and control, something he definitely lacked. Even children in prestigious magic academies would spend semesters learning a handful of spells. Though, that was for non-High-Nobles.

Pell cleared his throat, trying to mask his astonishment. "Yes... if by increasing your mana, you mean replenishing it, and not increasing your capacity," he replied, his voice steady but his mind still reeling from Enya's rapid progress.

He crouched down, his bony fingers digging into the depths of his well-worn backpack.

Enya’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "Replenish?" she asked, her voice carrying a feather of interest.

"Ah... replenish means—" Pell began, but before he could finish, Enya, ever eager to always interrupt, chimed in.

"To restore or bring back, right?" she interjected, words quick and bright.

Pell paused for a moment, his hollow gaze shifting from the bag to Enya. "Yes. Yes, it does," he confirmed, his tone carrying a hint of amusement and annoyance. Enya had gotten used to interrupting him frequently now.

After a moment of rustling, Pell’s hand emerged from the backpack, clutching a small circular bottle that shimmered with a dim but beautiful blue light. It was about the size of his hand and held a wooden cork at the top. He walked over to Enya, holding it before her eyes.

"This," Pell began, "is a small mana potion. The entire potion should restore roughly 30 points of mana. If you take half, it will restore 15 points. You can do the math." He paused for a moment. Can she do math? Shit. Pell wondered briefly, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind.

Enya took the potion bottle into her hands and inspected it. It was a clear blue liquid, almost perfectly transparent. She pulled the tiny wooden cork from its neck and brought it to her nose. With a single whiff, her face lit up like a radiant moon. "Oh, it smells really good!" she exclaimed, her delight genuine.

Pell shuddered. He had just realized that the dungeon… probably smelled horrible. His sense of smell had been lost long ago. But the little brat’s was still there, perfectly fine, possibly more than fine, considering her sensing skill. The dungeon was filled with corpses, dried blood, and rotting flesh. Certainly not something someone should be growing up around. Oh, well. What could he do?

Pell chuckled, a sound that echoed like the rustle of dry leaves. "Yeah, that variety of mana potion is made from Blue Lilies. They have an extremely pleasant smell."

"Do I just drink it?" Enya asked, her eyes wide with curiosity and temptation at the miracle elixir.

"Yeah," Pell nodded, his tone shifting to one of gentle caution. "But try not to drink more than you need. If you were at full mana and drank the whole vial, you might experience mana overload."

Enya tilted her head. Before she could ask for clarification, Pell continued, "Mana overload is when your body absorbs more mana than it can handle. There’s a reason your mana pool has a maximum amount. If you absorb more than that, then the excess mana acts like poison."

"What would happen to me?"

Pell shrugged. "You'll feel massive pressure throughout your body because your mana vessels can’t handle the excess mana. Your mana control will also plummet. Other side effects would be things like nausea, dizziness, ruptured blood vessels, heart attacks, a stroke, cardiac arrest, splintered bones, internal organ failure, instant death, spa-"

"Okay, I think I got it,” Enya interrupted, her face scrunched up at the flood of torture Pell had just mentioned.

Bringing the bottle up to her mouth, she paused. “Did… you say instant death?”

Pell shrugged again. “No?”

Enya’s eyes tightened as she scrutinized Pell. His flames danced. He was lying.

Ignoring the comment, Enya looked back at her mana.

Mana: 14/20

She glanced back at the sweet-smelling bottle in her hand, realizing she needed to drink about a quarter of it. With a determined breath, she took a small sip, only for her face to twist into an expression of pure disgust.

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"Bleh! This tastes awful!" Enya exclaimed, wrenching as her face distorted as though she had just bitten into a sour lemon.

Pell couldn’t help but laugh, the sound he emitted sounding like dry leaves. "Yeah, Blue Lilies taste like like the stuff from nightmares. That’s why no one likes them. They’re great for replenishing mana, but most people prefer to pay extra for better-tasting potions, like Clearblue potions," he explained, also amused at Enya’s reaction.

Mana: 16/20

Enya winced, already feeling like she might throw up from the small amount she just drank. Only two points of mana had restored themselves, and the thought of drinking more of the potion filled Enya with dread. She glanced at Pell with a pleading expression, hoping for some type of alternative.

He shrugged. “Look, I mentioned it yesterday, but regardless of whatever danger that damn mutant zombie poses, there’s something down in that passage. Considering the abnormal strength of that zombie, it may be some type of lab or private chamber of some sorts. Hell, the dungeon core could be down there for all we know,” Pell said.

“We are going down there. Not because I want to kick that asshole down the stairs a few more times, which I do, but also because of the potential down there. I have some actual weapons here this time, so it won't get a sneak attack off like last time," Pell said.

Pointing his finger at Enya, he continued, "You on the other hand, need to get as strong as you can, and practice this summon skeleton spell or whatever. I’m not exactly a normal undead, so your summoned creature will probably be just as strong as that zombie, if not stronger,” Pell continued. “Probably. Don’t know really. Having an extra body is helpful regardless.”

“But anyways, drinking these is all I got, there’s no other way to restore your mana,” Pell stated.

Enya looked crestfallen. "Well, okay..." she said, taking another reluctant gulp of the vile potion.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ZiLMGqb.png]

A sudden burst of mana flared from the corner of the room.

"Fu...Damn it!" Enya's voice echoed in frustration as she stomped her foot, the sound sharp against the stone floor.

Pell glanced up from his book, his eyes narrowing into slits that seemed to radiate disapproval. His gaze was sharp enough to slice through steel, and Enya, feeling the full force of it, blushed. Her anger slipped away, replaced by a rush of embarrassment. "So-sorry..." she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. She lowered her head, her eyes darting toward Pell in a quick, anxious glance before she focused intently on the floor, hoping to avoid further scrutiny.

Pell turned his gaze back to his book. Maybe I swear a bit too much around her, he mused. It was clear she was trying to slip an F-bomb past him, but had settled for a "damn it" instead. Cheeky brat. I see what you're doing—testing how close you can come to the edge with me. Pell sighed inwardly. Perhaps he should just let her swear if she wanted. After all, he wasn’t her parent. So what if she let a few curse words slip? It was only the two of them here, after all.

Another explosive burst echoed through the room. Pell sighed, resigning himself to the fact that it was going to be a long, noisy day.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ZiLMGqb.png]

The last page of Pell’s book flipped and turned beneath his fingers, and he let out a yearning sigh. He really needed a new novel to read.

Looking up from his book, Pell noticed Enya on the far side of the room, peacefully asleep. She had made herself comfortable on the cold ground, her head resting on a pillow Pell had brought from his adventuring gear—a relic from his living days. A small bottle of water, half-empty, along with a preserved can of rabbit meat lay on its side—completely empty, next to where she slept. Pell no longer had a need for such necessities, being undead and all.

With Enya fast asleep, Pell realized he had a rare moment of quiet, the perfect opportunity to try something he had long forgotten to do. His curiosity lingered at the back of his mind for some time. He had meant to try this sooner, but never found the right moment.

Pell looked at the sleeping Enya—more specifically, her black robe, and focused the mana within his body. “Appraisal,” he said, his voice hushed.

Item Name: ######## Lia's Decorative Robe

Tier: Platinum

Rank: S+

Value: Skill Level Too Low

Effect: Skill Level Too Low

Before Pell could even process the appraised stats, his body began to tremble violently. The soul flames within his eye sockets flared wide as a new screen overrode the appraisal’s findings.

System Notification: Your mana has reached 0 out of 40.

You have been inflicted with Mana Burnout for attempting to use more mana than is available.

“Shit!” Pell cursed, his voice tinged with panic. His skeletal frame shuddered uncontrollably as a suffocating wave of darkness descended upon his mind, accompanied by a crushing mental weight.

As quick as he could, he fumbled his hands into the backpack near him, before yanking out a mana potion. With a swift, desperate twist, he tore off the cork and splashed the mana potion over his skull. The potion’s droplets trickled down, soaking into his bones, but the relentless wave of nausea didn’t abate. Pell didn’t hesitate. He snatched three more potions in rapid succession, repeating his actions, until his body rested once more.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the oppressive shadow over his mind began to recede, the suffocating fatigue lifting its weight. Pell grumbled under his breath, “What… the fuck…” He had narrowly escaped a near-comatose state from mana exhaustion.

Appraisal, the skill granted to Pell through his merchant class, was typically a reliable tool. It was akin to the “Identify” skill found in other classes, capable of revealing intricate details about living beings. But Appraisal was designed specifically for inanimate objects—clothing, herbs, monster cores—anything tangible yet not alive. And yet, here he was, nearly obliterated by his own skill.

Pell cast a wary glance at Enya’s robe, the object of his near downfall. Maybe I should leave the appraising for another time, he thought, still rattled by the close call.

The mana usage of the Appraisal skill bore similarities to other mana-consuming abilities. While appraising low-tier items, it barely cost any mana, sometimes even none at all, but the cost escalated with the rarity and power of the object. Enya’s robe, being a Platinum tier item with an S+ ranking, had drained Pell’s mana reserves completely, going completely negative—nearly 90 points negative, give or take. He had to factor in the diminishing returns of the potions.

As a regular merchant, Pell's capabilities were limited to appraising up to Gold tier, D- ranking items. Even this feat consumed nearly all of his mana—39 points out of his 40. Viewing a Platinum S+ ranked item had forced him to use three entire mana potions just to put him back in a stable state.

His appraisal hadn’t even viewed more information other than an incomplete name and rank. He wasn’t able to gleam the information about its price or effect. Luckily, it told him the robe had an effect—he just couldn’t determine what it was.

Mana: 6/40

“Damn… that entire robe is probably worth more than an entire city in the first layer, tenfold,” he murmured. Perhaps I could buy her a dress from some random store and pawn off that robe in the black market… Pell thought.

However, Pell’s musings quickly disappeared after realizing what a high-noble family might do to him if he had somehow sold off a Platinum tier, S+ ranked item. But it's not like that would be the only reason they'd probably try to hunt him down for. Not like he was already committing an irreversible sin by suggesting a different class for Enya, one probably vastly different to what they aimed for her to be.

But more important than that—the name of that robe—who the hell was Lia? And why did Enya have her robe? Perhaps the craftsman or tailor named the item after themselves? It wasn't too uncommon to do this, as it represented pride and signified the item as their personal work.

However, creating a custom-tailored outfit was different than naming something Gerald's Dragon Slayer Blade. Clothing was generally named for the wearer, and although not always, it would be a very odd choice to not name it after a High-Noble client. This was unless the craftsman was that talented or revered.