Chapter 28: The Spirit
The dismantler brought over the appraisal sheet. Without a formal request, the unit prices were a little lower, but that couldn’t be helped.
- Red Chicken ×18 — 22,000 Darla = 396,000 Dara
- Green Bird ×15 — 27,000 Darla = 405,000 Dara
- Runner Bird ×9 — 38,000 Darla = 342,000 Dara
- Chiki-Chiki Bird ×11 — 63,000 Darla = 693,000 Dara
- Big-Horn Boar ×1 — 75,000 Dara
- Medium Elk ×1 — 51,000 Dara
- Orc ×3 — 82,000 Dara = 246,000 Dara
Total: 2,208,000 Dara
“Not satisfied?”
“I just figured that without the marquis’s commission, the purchase price would drop a bit.”
“Oh? Where were you taking those commissions?”
“I wasn’t, personally—but since the marquis had put out a request, the dismantlers asked me to bring them Chikki-Chikki Birds.”
I showed him an appraisal slip from Rosenne as proof of payment:
- Chikki-Chikki Bird ×2 — 68,000 = 136,000 Dara
- Runner Bird ×1 — 41,000 Dara
- Green Bird ×1 — 30,000 Dara
- Red Chicken ×2 — 25,000 = 50,000 Dara
Total: 257,000 Dara
“So you’re the one who hauled in that big batch of Chiki-Chiki Birds in Rosenne. If you keep bringing them, I can sweeten your appraisals.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Why’s that? You should make money while you can.”
“Because this guild doesn’t trust what I declare. When I pull the goods out like they ask, they yell at me anyway. Still, I’m fine with your valuation—I’ll sell. Besides, if I wipe out all the game in one place, other adventurers will hate me.”
“Hard to take that seriously, considering how much you’ve already brought in.”
“This haul came from zigzagging all the way from Rosenne to Korche.”
“Well then, bring more if you feel like it.”
The dismantler muttered in exasperation and went back to his work.
“Leon, are you really earning that much?”
“More or less. I owe a lot to Lady Félicienne, who granted me my magic. By the way, how were those guild potions?”
At that question, Toby and the others all pulled the same sour face—it reminded me of kids tasting a pickled plum. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“So it’s true—nothing beats buying potions from the Apothecaries’ Guild.”
“I’ve never tried theirs before, but the Adventurers’ Guild’s potions taste like chewing on the most bitter herbs imaginable. After this experience, I can confirm it.”
“In that case, before heading out to the plains, how about guiding me to the Apothecaries’ Guild? A silver coin a day sound fair for wages?”
“Actually, we sold the Fang Dogs for 22,000 Dara each. After buying three potions for 25,000 Dara, we still have 107,000 Dara left—we’d like to return that.”
“Then take that as today’s guide fee.”
“Are you sure? That’s quite a lot.”
“It won’t take long, so it’s fine.”
They led me to the Apothecaries’ Guild. While they waited outside, I stepped in. Another burly man greeted me.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to buy potions—something better than what the Adventurers’ Guild sells. It’s my first time here, though, so I’d appreciate an explanation.”
He seemed surprised; right, I remembered the Apothecaries’ Guild also bought herbs.
Then a man with sharp, elegant features and slightly pointed ears—clearly an elf—appeared.
“First time buying potions, is it?”
“Yes. My companions said the guild’s ones tasted awful, so I figured I’d get something effective and drinkable.”
“As adventurers, you’d want wound-healing potions, not ones for illness—you can treat disease later.”
That made sense. It’s always better to heal injuries on the spot.
He explained that potions came in basic, intermediate, and advanced tiers—each divided into low, mid, and high grades.
A light bite wound could be handled with a low-grade basic potion, but if flesh was torn, a mid- or high-grade would be needed. Lower ranks healed proportionally less.
For major injuries—broken bones or deep cuts—you’d need intermediate potions, the grade depending on the severity.
Listening, I realized the system basically forced you to learn through experience—get hurt, try the potion, and see what works.
He said that unless you were mortally wounded, carrying three kinds of intermediate potions would usually be enough.
As he spoke, I occasionally sensed that presence again. I kept staring at the elf.
The prices were more reasonable than expected, so I decided to stock up.
- Basic Potion (Low) × 5 = 12,000 × 5 = 60,000 Dara
- Basic Potion (Mid) × 5 = 20,000 × 5 = 100,000 Dara
- Basic Potion (High) × 5 = 28,000 × 5 = 140,000 Dara
- Intermediate Potion (Low) × 2 = 60,000 × 2 = 120,000 Dara
- Intermediate Potion (Mid) × 2 = 120,000 × 2 = 240,000 Dara
- Intermediate Potion (High) × 2 = 180,000 × 2 = 360,000 Dara
Total: 1,020,000 Dara
After paying, I received a complimentary potion case—and then an unexpected question.
“You have strong elven blood. Are you a mage?”
“I am. I’ve got about one-quarter elven blood—why?”
“You possess the skill of Presence Detection, don’t you?”
There it was again—Presence Detection.
“I’m an adventurer, so yes, I can use it reasonably well, but…”
“Then you can sense me, can’t you?”
Was he talking about that faint thing Presence Detection kept picking up?
“You mean that sensation that occasionally appears around you?”
He smiled warmly, though his eyes were deadly serious.
“Some with that skill—and we elves—know what that presence is. What do you think it might be?”
“I’m not sure. It isn’t hostile, and when I sense it, it seems to hover near people—almost clinging to them.”
“We call those beings spirits. And those who have one with them… are known as spirit-blessed.”
“Spirit-blessed…?”
“I myself haven’t been granted any magic, nor do I have the skill or ability of Presence Detection. What appears around me is something I was only taught about back in my village. According to the elders, those who are spirit-blessed can receive aid from spirits—but it seems you don’t have one attached to you?”
“I’ve never sensed anything like that. Though sometimes I felt a strange presence around a mage I met out on the plains—it caught my attention. Maybe that’s what I was feeling? I never noticed it in the guild; maybe because there were too many people. You mentioned help from spirits, but…”
“I’m an apothecary and possess the skill of potion-making, but…”
He shrugged, implying he hadn’t benefited from any such “help.”
“I’ve probably said too much. It’s been a while since I met someone perceptive enough to notice, and I got carried away talking. If you ever visit an elven settlement, you should ask the elders there.”
In the end, all I’d really learned was the name of it—spirits, huh?
It sounded outlandish, but in a world where magic and skills exist, it wasn’t impossible. Maybe there was some benefit to being favored by one—but since I didn’t seem to be, it probably wasn’t my concern.
When I told Thaddeus and the others the price of beginner potions, they discussed among themselves, decided to buy a few “just in case,” and went inside.
I had a little over 2,200,000 Dara left. I wanted better clothes and boots, but first things first—I decided to buy a decent short spear and bow.
Thaddeus and his group were hesitant about accepting the leftover Fang Dog money as payment for guiding me around the city, but I told them not to worry. In a new town, even buying a single potion alone could’ve taken me all day. Since they’d be guiding me across the plains starting tomorrow, it was fair compensation.
I didn’t need a spear or bow for combat, but if I brought in prey without a mark or wound, I’d have too much explaining to do. A clean, sharp weapon was useful for finishing blows—or faking them.
A sturdy short spear with a long head cost 200,000 Dara, a two-man pull bow 180,000 Dara, and thirty heavy-tipped arrows 150,000 Dara—a total of 530,000 Dara.
That left me with about 1,800,000 Darla. Money disappeared fast.
Once I bought proper clothes and boots, who knew how much more it would take—I’d probably be relying on adventurer shops for a while.
“He said he sleeps around here, right?”
“Isn’t that it?”
Kenneth pointed toward a single spindly tree standing alone.
Its branches were stripped bare, with only a few leaves clinging to the tips—making it easy to spot.
“He said he’d be on the plain on the side with that tree, didn’t he?”
“Yeah. Said it was a discreet spot, not far from town.”
“There—look.”
Regina pointed toward a tall patch of grass. A similar marker tree stood there, just like the one by the roadside.
“It’s not exactly obvious, but…”
“The marker tree sticks out like a sore thumb.”
“So, where’s the entrance?”
Hearing them talking among themselves, I called out.
“Just push through the grass—you’ll run right into the dome.”
Lately, I’d gotten good at setting up a quiet sleeping spot: clearing a small three-meter-wide space among the tall grass, then putting up a compact dome. It kept beasts away, stayed out of sight, and with a Flame spell under a pan, it stayed nice and warm.
I’d even added a little chimney for air circulation—safe and comfortable.
Safe, warm, and convenient—thank you, Lady Félicienne.
Thaddeus and the others rustled through the grass toward me, and I invited them into the dome, offering tea before we set out.
Our plan was to head toward the forest, do a little hunting near the edge, and return.
I told Regina that I’d handle scouting and perimeter watch, and that she should focus on locating magic reservoirs—the key to controlling mana.
It would be difficult to do while walking, but she had to learn. Mastering mana control and manifestation was the foundation of being a mage.
If she could grasp those, I’d teach her enough to surpass the average mage—but no further than that. We’d see how far her talent could take her.
As for Thaddeus and the rest, I warned them to stay close, and if I called out, to gather around me and crouch immediately.