The two of them paused in the middle of the bustling street, eyes lifting to the towering buildings around them. Each structure was a marvel of craftsmanship, their facades painted in a riot of colors that caught the afternoon sun. Faera's gaze lingered on the intricate carvings etched into the stone, the way light and shadow played across the surfaces. There was a certain grandeur here that the villages could never match.
"Fortunately," Faera said as they began to move forward, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease, "I used a shadow concealment spell to hide our aura. As long as no one employs a rank four investigation method, we will remain unseen."
Edmund nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. Yet his eyes betrayed a deep admiration as they roamed over the diverse architecture. "Should we stay here for a while or should we go straight to the capital?" His voice was low, almost hesitant, caught between the desire to explore and the urgency of their mission.
Faera glanced at his brother, then cast a quick investigative spell, the glow in his eyes betraying his focus. "We need to equip ourselves first," he said firmly. "A weapon for each of us and good armor. We cannot afford to be unprepared."
Edmund's lips curved into a small smile, understanding the wisdom behind the words. "Then let's find someone who can point us to a good weapons and armor shop."
They moved carefully, their steps measured as they navigated the crowded streets. The scents of roasting corn and fresh bread mingled in the air, mingling with the chatter of merchants and townsfolk. Soon, they spotted a small cart adorned with bright yellow ears of corn, steam rising lazily from the roasted kernels.
Edmund approached the seller, a burly man with weathered hands and a face tanned by years of sun. "Hello there," Edmund said politely. "Can you tell me about a store that sells weapons and armor?"
The seller's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, studying Edmund for a moment before he spoke in a strong, authoritative tone. "You should go to the market and ask about Harilon's store. That place is known far and wide. Many Hunters swear by their weapons."
Edmund nodded his thanks, the name sticking firmly in his mind.
Quietly, the two brothers moved off in the direction the seller had indicated. The streets grew busier, the energy shifting as they approached what could only be the heart of the city.
After about fifteen minutes of walking, the market came into view. It was enormous, sprawling out before them like a living, breathing organism. In the center stood a giant fountain shaped like a swan, its wings spread as if ready to take flight. Water cascaded from its beak into a clear pool below, sparkling in the sunlight.
Around the fountain, rows of shops lined the wide square, their signs hanging neatly like badges of honor. Food and beverage carts dotted the open spaces, their colors bright but without the clamoring calls of village merchants. The atmosphere was calmer, more refined.
Edmund turned to his brother, curiosity shining in his eyes. "So this is the difference between villages and cities?"
Faera gave a small nod. "In villages, most people are less educated. They respond to loud voices, offers, and discounts. In cities, residents usually know what they want before they arrive. They do not need to be drawn in by noise."
Edmund considered this, though he knew there was more to it. 'Money and reputation play a huge part,' he thought. Many city shops belonged to well-known chains, relying on their prestige to attract customers rather than shouting or bargaining.
Faera's gaze shifted to a nearby stall where a man was arranging finely crafted daggers. "Let's ask someone about this Harilon shop," he suggested.
Edmund nodded and stepped toward the closest seller. The man was middle-aged, his hands calloused but steady as he polished a small blade. Edmund cleared his throat politely. "Excuse me. Could you tell me where I can find Harilon's store?"
The seller looked up, eyes sharp and assessing. He pointed down the street, giving detailed directions with an ease born from familiarity. Edmund listened carefully, committing the path to memory.
"Thank you," Edmund said sincerely before returning to Faera's side.
Faera's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Good. Now we can prepare properly."
As they set off toward the direction the seller had indicated, Edmund let his gaze wander once more over the vibrant market. The hum of conversation, the clinking of metal, the distant laughter of children all blended into a lively symphony. 'This city,' he though. 'Huh.'
---
"He says it's at the northern corner of the market and the name is written in large letters on the front of the shop," Edmund said quietly, his voice barely rising above the hum of bustling vendors and chattering townsfolk.
The brothers exchanged a quick glance, the unspoken understanding passing between them. Without hesitation, they began moving northward, weaving through crowds laden with colorful stalls and pungent aromas.
The market's northern edge emerged slowly, revealing a towering shop that dominated the street corner. Its front was gigantic, stretching wide and tall, crafted from heavy timber and polished stone, as if daring adventurers to enter.
Through the outer glass, slightly fogged with the breath of eager customers, the brothers could see rows of large armor stands, gleaming weapons hung meticulously, and a steady stream of people moving inside.
Every person within the shop shared a common thread. They were clad in armor, from sturdy leather to shining plate, and each one bore weapons strapped securely at their waists.
The atmosphere thrummed with quiet determination, a sanctuary for those who lived by steel and skill.
Edmund and Faera stood just outside for a moment, absorbing the scene. Then they entered.
The air smelled faintly of oiled metal and aged wood, mixed with the faint hint of leather and smoke.
Then, a worker approached them, his steps measured and respectful. His eyes were sharp but welcoming.
"You must be new Hunters. Welcome to the store. What do you need?" he asked, his voice steady and polite.
Faera spoke directly, his simple voice cutting through the murmurs.
"I need two mountain wolf leather armor, two silver rank swords, two silver rank battle daggers, and two casting speed enhancement rings."
The worker blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He quickly masked it with a warm smile.
"Come with me, sir. We have many swords and battle daggers of the rank you want," he said, motioning for them to follow.
Faera nodded slightly, his expression calm but focused. The worker led them through aisles of weaponry and armor, their footsteps echoing softly on the polished wooden floor.
They stopped at one of the counters, broad and sturdy, carved from dark oak and polished smooth.
Without hesitation, the worker disappeared behind the counter and reappeared moments later carrying an impressive collection of swords and daggers, each varying in size and shape.
He placed them carefully on the counter, the metal catching the light and glinting sharply.
"Mister, please consider what you want from them and tell me while I get the casting speed enhancing rings," he said respectfully.
Faera nodded quietly, motioning for Edmund to join him at the counter.
The two brothers leaned in, their hands reaching towards the blades one by one.
They raised the swords, feeling their weight and balance, the subtle hum of power in the finely crafted steel.
After a thoughtful pause, Faera chose a long sword with an understated appearance. Its blade was straight and true, the hilt wrapped in black leather, unadorned yet exuding silent strength.
Edmund's eyes were drawn to a long curved sword, its dark metal almost black, decorated with intricate gold inlays that traced elegant patterns along the blade.
The sword felt like a fusion of artistry and deadly precision in his hands.
Next, Faera examined the daggers. He selected a pair, each about a third of a meter long.
The blades shimmered with a faint red metal that radiated a subtle warmth, as if alive with contained fire. The hilts were simple black metal, unassuming yet refined in their design.
Faera's fingers brushed the edges lightly, savoring the feeling of power and craftsmanship.
Edmund watched, a faint smile tugging the corner of his lips.
'These will serve us well,' he thought.