Chapter 17

Technically speaking this would be Cort’s third visit to Phentar, however, it would also be his first time going further in, past the library just beside the gate.

Composing himself, he tightened his hold over the bag containing his prey and made his way through the busy streets of Phentar.

At this point, the moon had passed by its zenith and the darkest period of the night would soon begin. Despite this, a surprising number of people were still moving about, going to and coming from various restaurants and inns. Some stalls that stood at the sides of the streets were still open as they barked about how fresh their food was.

Cort found it difficult to completely understand their words, despite how similar it was to languages from his own world it was nonetheless a brand new language and six days were far from enough to gain fluency. Thankfully he could completely understand the meaning of the old man’s words while still recognizing the foreign nature of his words. This proved beneficial as it expedited his learning.

As he continued along the road he couldn’t but turn his head upwards every now and then. Above the heads of passerby, lanterns hung from their poles along the road as they illuminated the path.

‘That’s not electricity.’ He thought as he stared at them. They were sunstones, so called for their ability to store and release light. Granted the light they emitted was infinitely dimmer than that of the sun’s but they still did their jobs. In fact, they were relatively stronger and sharper than the lights that decorated most of the streets of earth.

Speaking of comparisons, Cort found it difficult to compare the state of technology on Earth to that of Himmel. On the surface, Himmel seemed to fall behind by a very large margin especially so considering the fact that electricity and heat have yet to be fully harnessed mechanically. Almost no machinery of any kind could be found in this world save for a few locations like Mach but even there the machines differed greatly from Earth’s. Given this and taking Phentar as an example, Cort would place this world at the level of seventeenth-century Earth or earlier.

Yet that was completely untrue, and in fact, Cort reckoned that the two worlds could never be compared. That was due to one single reason. Origin. This energy fundamentally changed the course Himmel’s people followed throughout history. So indelible was its mark that one could not count the number of ways it has affected people’s lives. If the people of Himmel were a foreign race unknown to man then Origin was surely their hat for which they’d be known.

‘For instance.’ He thought as he stared at the shopfront in front of him. It read {Colin’s Family Merchant Group.} In large and bold letters. Interestingly a little logo of a sword on top of a shield was situated at the bottom right of the sign, this was used to indicate what type of business this merchant ran. But what truly drew the eyes was the appearance of said letters. Unlike the led lights of his own world, this sign had letters made of true fire. The fire was intense enough to give off heat, yet controlled enough to keep their shape without damaging the surroundings. And rather than unpleasant it was actually comforting in away. On nippy nights, the warmth of the letters would surely draw people in.

“Alright then, here we go.” He muttered as he lingered under the warmth before stepping into the shop.

…………………………………………

Phil dusted off his counter for the seventeenth time this night. Having done that, he moved on to sweeping the floors making sure to properly clean the corners. With the floor swept and the counter dusted he brought out a rag from the storage room and dipped it in polish, before taking out a sword that hung on the bottom right of a rack hanging from the wall. Slowly, he made his way through the blade polishing every part of it and when he was done he marveled at how the sunstone’s light playfully bounced off the steel.

‘There are fifteen swords out for display tonight, five less than usual since traffic is always slower at night. Besides the swords, there are six different bows of varying bow length, the largest of which being 32 palm widths. The bows were mostly made of Origin hardened wood less than a hundred years old, anything stronger was hidden in the back and I am not to touch them without father’s permission.

Having polished off all the other swords, he moved on to the daggers which numbered sixteen in quantity. From daggers to sabers and from that to arrowheads used for display. Polishing heads used for selling was a fruitless task, he learned.

Meticulously placing each and every weapon where they belonged, he was finally done with his chores. Standing in the middle of his father’s store he felt a faint sense of pride. The sparkling blades and spotless floor was evidence of his diligence and while he knew his father would take little pleasure in such matters, Phil himself did and that was enough. Looking at his soiled gloves, he took them off and opened the second drawer from the top of a nearby desk where a neat stack of gloves lay prim and tidy. His favorite was white leather. He preferred them without ruins as he saw those as frivolous.

Sporting a new pair of gloves he tidied up his robes and hair.

Standing with impeccable posture behind the spotless counter, he gave off a meticulous and strict vibe.

This year he’d turn nineteen years of age, around the age his father opened his first branch in Elemente alongside his mother. Their family was a merchant group loyal solely to the Wind Palace. They had branches in nearly all of the cities ruled under the Palace.

By every definition, his family was one of wealth. Phil was destined to live a warm and cozy life filled with riches and women. That was, at least, his impression until his father told him the truth. His father was not truly of the Colin’s family, rather he was the bastard son of one of the more lascivious members of the main branch. That being said it wasn’t like the family could ignore the child and, in a move of mercy, the child was sent to some small obscure city with nary a magician in its walls. That city was Phentar and it would soon be home to one of the Collin’s family most obscure merchant branches.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

The news did not come as that big of a shock to him though, he had his suspicions. For one his father was never invited to any of the gatherings their supposed family held. Even when the head celebrated his twentieth son, an event so important all members of the family made haste to celebrate, his father was never invited, mentioned, or even considered. In the giant system that was the Colin’s family, his father was but a dot and himself nothing more than the blank space next to that dot.

Which is why he hated it. He hated this shop. He dedicated his entire life to the process of learning every single bit of this store. He long since knew the number of tiles that made up the floor, he knew the exact number of scratches that marked the main counter and even their causes. He knew the fact that one of the counter’s legs was wobbly, he knew that the rune magic that kept their sign lit up needed maintenance. He knew it all.

The door to the shop opened for the first time tonight and Phil was awakened from his reverie.

From the door frame, a man of about his age appeared. The man was about thirty-five palms tall with dark-colored hair and eyes. The simple dark blue robes hung loosely on his frame giving him an unflattering appearance. An unremarkable ring decorated his hands and nothing else. Nothing else of note save for the bag the man carried.

“Hello and welcome to the Colin’s family store, we deal with weaponry and combat materials. How may I be of assistance.” Phil’s voice was cold, yet professional. It was clear from the man’s appearance that nothing good would come out of this transaction but he couldn’t kick him out without a reason for doing so.

“Sell.” The stranger said in an equally cold and succinct voice as he plopped the bag on the counter.

“Sell wha-” But before he continued, he noticed the blood seeping from the bag.

‘That’s going to stain’ Phil thought as anger grew within. But he remained professional as he quickly lifted the bag, taking note of its weight, and placed absorbent fabric in its place. He made sure to blot the stain rather than rub as that would only make things worse. Satisfied with the stain’s situation, he covered the desk with two layers of thick, absorbent cloth and placed the bag down again.

Opening a drawer beneath the desk, he pulled out a pair of black gloves and a pair of eyeglasses.

Cort’s attention was immediately on the glasses. ‘Those look familiar…’ he thought as he studied the symbols carved into the glasses’ frame.

‘He’s probably never seen rune bearing equipment before.’ Meanwhile, Phil was having thoughts of his own as he remarked at the man’s inquisitive gaze. Truth was he wasn't too thrilled about this transaction. ‘He probably caught some mongrel beast that lives in the peripheral ring of the forest. What use would I have for that? Oh well, I suppose I could toss him a red or two and sell the meat for food.’

But his expression froze as he spotted the contents of the bag. “W-what?” He blurted as he grabbed a crystalline antler from the bag. ‘It can’t be’ His gaze turned serious as he grabbed a small red crystal and crushed it. The object shattered, but strangely enough, the pieces did not hit the ground, rather they seemed to turn into a gas which was being funneled into the glasses.

His glasses now faintly glowing, Phil’s expression turned solemn. Thanks to the runes, he could now see the Origin signature of the antler. It truly was from a snow deer. While this antler had no combat uses, it was pretty enough to be used as material for jewelry. But most importantly it was rare, and rare meant expensive.

Phil’s view of the man changed as the stranger turned from a nuisance to a cash cow in a heartbeat. ‘This is an opportunity, I can’t mess this up.’ He thought as he struggled to maintain a poker face.

Did this man know how precious a Snow Deer’s body was? No, he couldn’t have, he was probably lucky and came across one by chance during a rare moment where it was away from its minion. Surely that was the case.

‘Let’s test the waters first’ He thought as he checked whether the body was complete. Save for a clean slash across its throat, the body was pristine. Excitement boiled over within him. ‘I’ll offer sixty reds first, and see how he reacts.’

But as he opened his mouth to speak he happened to notice another object besides the deer in the large bag.

Curiously grabbing the object, he brought it to his eye level. For the second time tonight, he received a major shock. Only this time, it wasn’t excitement that filled his mind but rather fear and a bit of relief. Thank the gods he did not speak too rashly.

The item was a large eye and thanks to its size, and Origin signature, he was able to figure out which beast this came from. The Whip jawed turtle. A monster comparable in strength to Mid-Tier warriors. Some even say that when fought in water, its natural habitat, its strength was unparalleled in the Mid-tier.

Once more he gazed at the man who was still fixated on his glasses. Only this time, all the disdain he once had disappeared and in its place, begrudging respect grew. Even if he hadn’t killed the turtle, the mere fact he wounded it meant that the man was at the very least Early Mid-Tier. Offending such a character was in no way a good idea.

He looked into the bag further and found the other eye and a few other less important bits such as the tongue. His respect grew to a whole new level. Not only did the man severely wound The Whip Jawed but he most likely killed it as well.

“If I may be rude enough to ask Sir, but where is this beast’s body?” His tone was filled with respect.

“In the forest.” The man’s cold voice replied with an odd accent.

Though slightly disappointed, Phil’s voice was unfazed. “With all due respect Sir, the body of this beast is worth a bit more than that of this deer. So I’s suggest-”

“Too heavy. Not worth the bother.”

Phil’s tongue was caught in his throat. Wasting such a precious resource just because it was too bothersome? What sort of nonsense was this? He shook his head wearily, warriors were often described as thick-skulled, but this was truly too wasteful. He sighed.

Still, this man was strong and he seemed to be new to Phentar so making an enemy out of him was not something Phil wanted.

“I’ll give you five hundred reds for everything in the bag.” The price was fair in his opinion if not then slightly leaning towards the stranger’s side. This was a show of goodwill.

The stranger was unruffled as he seemed to consider the proposition lightly. “Deal.”

Phil nodded with a slight smile. “Alright, would you like it in reds or oranges?”

Cort was caught off-guard by the question but answered anyway. “Red.”

Phil nodded once more and went into the back-room shortly before coming out with a rather large bag. “Here you go.” He placed in on the spacious counter, next to the one Cort originally brought.

Looking at the large bag of money, his palms grew itchy. He could feel an old habit claw its way to the surface. Especially so after seeing the weapons, the store had to offer.

Showing a rare smile, he asked. “Do you have more arrows?”

…………………………………………