Dian Cecht Familia Treatment Center.
Leon left his umbrella at the entrance and pushed through the heavy oak doors.
"Welcome to the Dian Cecht Familia Treatment Center! How may we help... oh, Leon!"
As a regular customer who never haggled over potion prices and always paid promptly, he'd built up considerable goodwill with Airmid. She greeted him warmly.
"Been a while, Airmid."
He gave her a nod and got straight to business. "I'm here to sell. Materials. You buy those here, right?"
Her eyes lit up, her small face bright with anticipation. "Of course! You've seen the standing commission Dian Cecht Familia has posted at Guild headquarters, haven't you?"
"Then you must be swimming in materials by now."
Leon kept his tone casual, fishing.
Airmid didn't catch the bait. She shook her head, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. "Unfortunately, the ingredients for our medicines aren't common. Aside from the herbs we purchase from Demeter Familia, our stock of Dungeon-sourced materials has always been thin. Rare monster Drop Items especially. We only see one or two come in every few days."
Everyone knew rare monster spawns were pure luck. In the upper floors, the drops they yielded, things like infant dragon wing membranes, were already considered top-tier.
Leon's lips curled into a grin. He reached into his pack and produced a cloth-wrapped bundle, setting it on the counter with care.
Then he looked at Airmid, smiling, and said nothing.
Her fingers tightened on the hem of her skirt. The composure on her face cracked.
Blue Papilio Wings.
With the recent spike in unrest across the city, demand for medicine had exploded. Evilus was the obvious source of chaos, but foreign organizations, gray-market operators, and drifters had all crawled out of the woodwork to exploit the disorder. The constant fighting burned through potions far faster than they could be produced.
If Freya Familia's healing corps, the Andhrímnir, hadn't been shouldering part of the burden, every pharmaceutical Familia and treatment center in Orario would have been overwhelmed weeks ago. Even with that support, stockpiles were running critically low.
Any potion ingredient, especially a rare monster drop, was a lifeline right now.
"Twenty..." Airmid ventured.
Leon reached for the bundle as if to take it back.
"Wait! Twenty-five!" She scrambled to correct herself.
His hand didn't stop.
Airmid stared at his face, her cheeks flushing a deep red. Finally, the number ground out through clenched teeth.
"Thirty!"
The moment it left her mouth, her shoulders sagged like a deflated balloon. This round was hers to lose, and she'd lost it.
Looking at the defeated little doll of a girl, Leon allowed himself a victorious smile. "Congratulations, Airmid. You've just secured the materials you desperately needed."
This man...!
Airmid glared at his grinning face, seething, silently vowing to get even somewhere down the line.
The deal was done.
"See you around, Airmid. Next time I get my hands on something good, you'll be the first to know!"
Humming to himself, bouncing the satisfying weight of his coin purse, Leon turned and strolled out, radiating smugness with every step.
"That horrible, stingy, opportunistic jerk! Taking advantage of someone in need! Aaargh, I could scream!"
Airmid snatched a cushion from behind the counter, imagined Leon's insufferable face on it, and hammered it with both fists in a furious barrage.
"Just you wait, Leon Hart. You'll pay for this!"
...
Her reaction was more or less what he'd expected.
As a healer, Airmid sat at the very top of Orario's food chain. What Adventurer could guarantee they'd never get hurt?
There was a saying among Orario's Adventurers: you could offend a god of chaos and survive, but never cross your healer.
As the city's premier medical authority, being outmaneuvered and strong-armed by a Level 1 nobody had to sting. No wonder she was furious.
Picturing her fuming little face, Leon couldn't help but laugh.
With the loot dealt with and his pockets heavier, he headed home without a care in the world.
...
At home. The living room.
Laurier sat cross-legged on the couch, pen clamped between her teeth, brow furrowed, face scrunched into a knot of misery as she glared at the book splayed across her lap. Everything about her screamed this is not going well.
Beside her, Aura was a different story entirely. Beneath her loose house clothes, her back was straight, her posture immaculate with the effortless elegance of an elf. She turned pages at a steady clip, calm and focused, absorbing information like water into dry earth.
Jeanne sat in the armchair across from them, watching Laurier with a look of deep sympathy. She knew that pain all too well.
The front door swung open. Leon shook the rain from his umbrella at the threshold.
"I'm back."
The instant she spotted him, Laurier's eyes went wide. She launched off the couch like a spring.
"Leon, I can't do this anymore! None of it makes sense! This is torture!"
"Not an option," he said, shaking his head. "Dungeon knowledge keeps you alive. Unless you want to end up torn apart by some monster because you didn't know any better?"
"..."
Her face fell. All the fight drained out of her, and she slid bonelessly down the couch like melting wax.
Leon watched her deflate and recalled a trick from his past life for dealing with reluctant students. He let his voice turn tempting.
"How about this, Laurier. Finish the fundamentals and pass a test on them, and I'll buy you a weapon worth up to a hundred thousand Valis. Deal?"
"For real?!"
Her eyes snapped back to life, shining with excitement.
The mood whiplash on this girl. Leon clicked his tongue silently. Way too easy to bribe.
"Of course. Jeanne's primary and secondary weapons cost about that much, so it's a solid reward. Same goes for you, Aura."
Aura gave a mild nod, seemingly unfazed by the offer.
"Yes! You'd better keep your word, Leon!" Laurier bounced on her heels. "A hundred thousand Valis weapon! That's premium gear even for a Level 4 Adventurer! I want a katana!"
Leon and Jeanne exchanged a glance and stifled their laughter.
"Maybe worry about passing the test before you start shopping."
"It's just a test! No test in the world can defeat the great Laurier!"
"Sure, sure. Laurier's the smartest."
...
With the "carrot" temporarily solving the motivation problem, Leon stepped out to the rocking chair beneath the eaves and settled into his own studies.
He drew out a Grimoire with a weathered cover, fingers tracing the extraordinary texture of its binding before opening it with care.
Name: Grimoire: Fireball
Origin: World of Warcraft
Type: Knowledge
Effect: Ignites and expands air into a fireball. Ranged projectile attack. Produces a rumbling fire explosion on impact.
Description: Greatness speaks for itself!
As Leon sank into deep concentration, his skill Scholar's Heart activated in tandem. The Hieroglyphics of his Falna glowed faintly, dramatically accelerating his rate of learning.
Inside, the living room fell quiet. Nothing but the rustle of turning pages and the occasional scratch of a pen.
...
The peace held until dinnertime.
BOOM.
A sudden blast ripped through the rainy evening. Searing flame erupted against the curtain of rain, the light and thunder jolting all three in the living room to their feet.
"What was that?"
"Did something explode?"
Aura and Laurier reacted on instinct, faces hardening as they dropped into combat stances.
Jeanne's expression, though, was odd. She glanced out the window, then held up both hands to calm them.
"Relax. It's just Leon testing a new spell."
"A new spell?"
Relief gave way to instant curiosity. Both women leaned forward, eyes wide.
Magic held a primal allure for them. Even setting aside racial affinities, who wouldn't be fascinated by a power that could turn the tide of any battle?
A potent spell could define an Adventurer's true worth. It was the trump card that flipped losing fights, the last hope when all else failed.
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