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Tomb of the Blind Beholder

Thrown into the world of magic and the myriad races, those of myths and those unimaginable, Ryan finds himself grasping for all that he can to keep himself alive and protect those he loves. All the while a prophecy unfolds that no seer could have foretold, yet was known, an ancient promise to be fulfilled, the supreme wager to be concluded. - - - Note: Not a Tomb Raider story! Updates: 7/Week - - - Discord: https://discord.gg/sJ7XabXM

Rookie_Draconian · ファンタジー
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24 Chs

Money comes and goes

As I was skipping to the square, I overheard some bits and pieces of what the nearby gossipers were saying.

To summarize, today the Auzle kingdom was sending ten teams from the 'National Academy of Magic', each team had five students.

The National Academy of Magic was a place specially built to teach the young generation of the kingdom of Auzle, so they could become the next pillars of the kingdom.

Since it was a place of great importance to the kingdom, they put great emphasis on it, hence there is no back door entry… which is just crow shit, surely.

That was also the kingdom our small village – Gunhar is the name – fell under the jurisdiction of. So, everything that belonged to the village belonged to the kingdom, and that made every little brat that went there, arrogant.

Once money enters the equation, no person can say no to the temptation of more. I sighed in my heart and swore to stay low-key for now, to avoid drawing the attention of those brats.

As for the knights, the advance party was already here, making preparations for the stay of those richie-rich brats from the capital.

Well, not like any of this was my business as long as they took care of the wave.

Thinking as such, I went along my way and soon arrived at the market.

"Is it effective? And how much is it?" A lady, with a simple bronze breastplate and a sword sheathed diagonally at her back, asked a boy with silver hair and ocean blue eyes standing behind a trolley decorated with some glass bottles filled with pink liquid.

"These are mid-grade healing potions, used to treat minor internal wounds and small skin injuries, and it would be 16 Bronze Vels per bottle, ma'am."

I replied, trying not to focus too much on the muscular build of the lady in front of me.

Depending on whether they used magic or not, people in this world could be roughly divided into two groups. Due primarily to prolonged exposure to mana, those who succeeded typically had stronger and more resilient bodies.

As a result of their bodies being fortified, traditional healing techniques would no longer be effective on them, or at least would not be as effective as they would be on regular people.

Non-tempered bodies were those that had not been baptised by Mana and were, therefore, easier to mend.

The woman asked with a heavy voice, "Hmm… how about 14?"

"Sorry ma'am, we don't have much of a margin, but since this is your first time here, it will be 15 for you." I responded in the kindest and most collected tone I could muster.

"Deal, give me two." She responded after giving it some thought and pulling some coins from the waistband pouch.

"Sure thing!"

"Huu…" I sighed after confirming the money and the lady had left. "It's exhausting to haggle over every single coin."

But when I remember that these single coins will add up and help us live happily ever after, all of my mental fatigue fades.

And, besides, these people were already filthy rich, comparatively speaking, so there's no harm in ripping them off a little. After all, by simply hunting a few magical beasts in the woods, these people can recoup tens of times what she just spent.

Yup, that's right, that lady was an adventurer.

Adventurers are people who accept quests from the Adventurers' Guild in order to exterminate magical beasts and complete other menial tasks that the kingdom's rulers have neglected.

The Adventurers' Guild also served as a shield for adventurers, preventing the kingdom from exploiting those who were powerful but lacked support.

In short, the standard fantasy Adventurers Guild.

What happened, and who created such an organization capable of competing with all kingdoms? That's not the kind of information you'd get from a 15-year-old country bumpkin.

The sun had already set, but the market district was as lively as ever.

It was pretty much the same as it was during the day: buyers were buying, sellers were selling, and some drunks were yelling.

3 still left, huh. But it's almost time to go, I muttered as hawked off for the potions.

Nine of the twelve bottles I had brought with me had already been sold. Because 12 wasn't a particularly large number, I was determined to sell them all today.

The sun vanished in an hour and a half, and the beautiful moon peeked out from behind the clouds.

By this point, every bottle had been sold, and I was left staring at the now-empty wooden drawer.

By this point, most of the bustle had petered out and only stragglers remained.

172 Bronze Vels…

'Not bad,' I thought as I tallied the day's haul.

Because the 12 bottles sold for 15 Vels each, I should have had 180 Bronze Vels in theory, but because bargaining is unavoidable, the amount was reduced by 8 Vels.

In comparison to what could have been, the outcome was more than satisfactory.

I smiled as I nodded and prepared to return.

"Perhaps I should pick up a few more bottles while I'm at it." I murmured to myself as I removed the trolley's wheel stopper.

With my trolley in hand and cash in its drawer, I was humming my way towards James's store in a matter of minutes.

"Oy… your face seems even more stupid with that stupid smirk of yours." said the 1.72m (5'7" feet) grumpy, twenty-something man with the beard and black hair.

"Hehe… surely you jest." I dismissed his unfounded charge with humor.

"I want 24 bottles, branded with the zeroth circle, if you would please." I continued, still smiling smugly after calculating the profits from today's sale, which came to 132 Bronze Vels.

It was the amount that I would return to Mom after deducting the cost of the bottles.

"Did you win the lottery or what? Not that I care." James responded half-heartedly.

"Oy, Bolg! Bring the crate by the furnace!" James called out to someone.

'Hmm? Did he have a helper the last time?' I pondered in my mind.

"Huff!" And a very animalistic sound returned, seemingly in agreement with James' remark.

Soon after, a brown bear appeared, carrying a wooden crate twice the size of the one I had carried home the day before.