The Proper House
“This way! This way!”
Camilla took the lead like a tour guide as we headed to the Granferry Merchant Guild's exchange.
The moment we arrived, she flashed her gold-embossed card.
That alone bent the escorts' backs ninety degrees.
“Ugh, this kind of treatment! I've never seen merchants act like this... What a filthy world! Rich get off scot-free, poor get the blame!”
“Camilla, this isn't something you buy with money...”
“Anyway, poor get the blame! Master! Ah, what a filthy world!”
I ignored Camilla's bizarre rant and surveyed the exchange.
This place was a sort of joint exchange.
Counters from various merchant guilds combined to form one big trading hub.
“It's this late, but still packed.”
Even at night, the area in front bustled.
Everyone moved busily, transporting goods or prepping deals.
Yet merchants eyed each other warily. Impressive.
Insight of Invention
Magic Analysis
“Makes sense. They'd be in trouble if shady types pulled tricks.”
The exchange had a mana surveillance system running.
A device to monitor magic use against foul play.
“Welcome. We at the Granferry Merchant Guild Petronia branch are delighted by your visit.”
At the Granferry counter, even the customer-facing staff was top-tier.
Late as it was, no hint of annoyance—just polite warmth.
In this world, such courtesy was rare enough to feel fresh.
“Grandfel sent me.”
I presented the gold card.
The staffer's eyes widened briefly before masking it.
Gold cards must be rare.
His back bent deeper as he guided us.
“Please wait here a moment...”
“We can't keep a guest waiting, can we? Nice to meet you. I'm Grandpain.”
“Ah, Branch Chief! I-I'll be going now...”
Grandpain appeared before the escort finished—how?
He smoothly offered tea and sat us down.
His natural flow had us seated and sipping already.
I've gotta stay sharp.
His people skills were on another level.
No wonder he ran a branch in a mega-city like this.
“Hmm, Mage Theo... 2nd-class crafter, correct? Your party's grown.”
He'd already checked my info the moment I showed the gold card.
Just outdated.
“3rd-class now.”
“Yes, of course. 3rd-class... Pardon? What did you say...?”
“Just hit 3rd-class. Had some results.”
Grandpain looked stunned.
Like he'd misheard 3rd-class.
“B-but last year you reached 2nd-class. In less than a year—no, half a year—you're already 3rd? I hate to say it, but impersonating a class is...”
He couldn't believe me.
His eyes flicked between the papers and me.
Crackle.
I formed three small mana rings in my palm for him.
Visible ones, unlike my usual hidden style.
A simple trick, but solid class proof.
“Oh! A-already 3rd-class... Sorry for doubting. What a blunder...”
He wiped sweat, apologizing nonstop.
But I didn't blame him.
I knew my growth outpaced norms here.
“No worries. But... why call Grandfel 'Sir'?”
Grandpain outranked him, yet showed deference.
Made me curious.
“Oh, you didn't know? Grandfel is the Guild Master's son. He's training by managing branches now.”
“Ah, the heir?”
“Yes, current heir to Granferry.”
Explained the casual gold card handout.
Not given to just anyone.
“When we heard a gold card holder was coming, I suspected... Indeed, Grandfel's doing. Building ties with someone so impressive already. Heh heh.”
Not that impressive a tie.
But no need to sour the mood—I let it ride.
“Hmm, you want to buy spellbooks? I know you've bought plenty in Asterium...”
I smiled at Grandpain's words.
As expected.
Better not sell my learned spellbooks.
I'd considered it at first purchase.
But held back.
Selling meant revealing what I'd learned.
Exposing my spell collection.
Even merchants collect intel... Gotta be careful.
A leak could be fatal.
Enemies could prep counters to my spells.
Didn't apply to me much—I crafted items over direct casting.
Still, better safe.
“Now that I'm 3rd-class, I need new spells.”
“Hmm, spellbooks alone might not cut it... Need a magic tutor? We can arrange one.”
“Magic tutor? What's that?”
Odd combo, but his explanation clicked.
“Petronia's got the Academy, right?”
Unlike places short on mages, Petronia differed.
Academy here.
Everyone's scraping by...
Not all mages were rich, even with an Academy.
Unless snagging a noble gig as estate mage, life stayed rough—like trailing slave traders.
3rd-class was awkward spot.
4th got quasi-noble status, professor shots.
Like that Talk Squad guy this morning.
3rd-class... Tricky indeed.
Not noble, not professor material.
Academy tuition added up too.
Hence the grind.
Just like grad students? Private tutoring gigs? Same everywhere...
Felt a bit relatable.
Hunter days hid such folks, though.
Situations mirrored anyway.
People's struggles universal.
“No need. Wanna try solo first?”
“Some prefer that... Tell me if you change mind. Here's our current 3rd-class spellbook list.”
Grandpain's list helpfully noted effects.
But no thanks needed.
At these prices, bare minimum.
Not many spellbooks.
Exactly five.
Prices speechless-making.
Grandpain awkwardly excused as I stared.
His excuse odd, though.
“Crafter spells? Best source yourself. 3rd-class ones are rare, and user-specific...”
Translation: Didn't sell.
I sighed at his words.
These would do for now.
“How much for all?”
“Pardon? All of them...?”
“Yeah, all.”
Grandpain hesitated.
But calculated fast.
“Total 1,923 gold... Make it 1,900, and they're yours, Mage Theo.”
Nearly 2,000 gold in spellbooks.
I handed over gold, heart bleeding.
For 4th-class, might hit a battlefield soon.
“You really bought them all... Whew.”
Grandpain's mouth twitched up.
Pleased with the sale, it seemed.
Still regretted no crafter spells, continued.
“For crafter spells, try official auctions. Decent ones pop up sometimes...”
He trailed off.
Then issued a warning-not-warning.
“Some might mention underground auctions or black markets—ignore them.”
“Unclear origins?”
“No, not that...”
Stain's shady goods came to mind.
But different reason.
“Mostly scams. Glitzy names, but defective junk.”
He shared official auction details.
Trustworthy spot.
But good crafter stuff? Long wait.
“No crafter spells after all. Guess I'll shop around starting tomorrow.”
Heading out, I told the group.
Start with referrals.
Plus, down to about 1,000 gold left.
Tight funds.
Might sell some Magrid ruin mine loot soon.
Then Camilla sidled up slyly.
“Hmm, Master?”
She whispered like a secret.
Her eyes crescent-moon curved.
Barely holding laughter.
“What now? Spit it out.”
Suspicious Camilla.
But her words hooked me.
“That branch chief? Clueless. Totally clueless.”
“What're you on about?”
“He hasn't seen a proper black market spot!”
According to her, real dealers handled goods reliably—separately.
Tempting, but no time to dwell.
Weird message popped.
Death's Compass activates.
Corpse detected.
Something deep in my spatial pouch activated.
Trouble brewing.
Exchange's mana alarm stayed silent, though.
“Camilla!”
She nodded once and vanished into shadows.
As if never there.