Chapter 5
AFTER ORDERING HER SECOND soft serve, Mira asked the chief detective, “By the way, we’ve been talking for a while about chasing Fuzzy Dice, but do you have any other information about him? Like where he’s hiding, who’s conspiring with him, or where the money he stole is going?”
Ultimately, Mira was after the location of an orphanage where the Wise Man Artesia might be residing. If Fuzzy Dice knew it, Mira might very well cooperate with him. And if she knew where his hideout was, who he worked with, or where his money went, she might discover some link to the orphanage. Of those possibilities, the ability to track his profits would be particularly useful.
The chief detective considered Mira’s question for a moment. “Hmm. Other information, you say? What would you like to know?”
He seemed to think Fuzzy Dice was hiding in Haxthausen, but since the phantom thief changed hideouts after every heist, Wolf couldn’t pinpoint it. The chief detective had spent a very long time hunting high and low for the hideout before concluding that Fuzzy Dice likely used an inn as his base of operations.
“I questioned a young man who’d been awake in the dead of night. He said he saw a suspicious figure enter an inn from a window.”
That boy’s testimony was the only proof Wolf had, but the kid had apparently spotted the figure immediately after the chief detective had lost sight of Fuzzy Dice.
After visiting the inn room, though, Wolf didn’t find any signs of the phantom thief. He did get some information from the innkeeper, however. The guest staying in that particular room was a rather average-looking male adventurer. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his appearance, speech, or anything else. In short, the man Wolf suspected of being Fuzzy Dice could only be described as frustratingly ordinary and run-of-the-mill.
“Now that you say it, that does sound pretty suspicious.” It sounded almost like the man had been disguised, so Mira suspected that he had indeed been Fuzzy Dice.
“Yes. I thought so as well,” the chief detective agreed once more. The only way someone could look that ordinary was on purpose. “My guess is that Fuzzy Dice is disguised as an ordinary adventurer and already hiding at an inn somewhere in the city.”
Since he looked so ordinary, people would have a hard time remembering him. And because Fuzzy Dice pulled off heists in a signature mask and outfit, no one would suspect him when he wasn’t wearing them. He was pretty flashy during heists, but also highly proficient at blending in.
“If we could just find him, it’d be so easy,” Mira murmured. The easiest way, she added, would be to find wherever he was hiding and capture him before the heist.
Of course, it wasn’t that simple. “Well, adventurers pass through Haxthausen constantly, and we don’t even know Fuzzy Dice’s real name. He’d be impossible to track down.”
The chief detective had tried many times to determine exactly where Fuzzy Dice was hiding. He’d never had much luck, and so he’d concluded that it wasn’t any use.
Fixing his eyes on Mira, Wolf smiled and said, “If I had your skills, though, one day would be more than enough to track him down.” Noting that he’d never observed anyone working with Fuzzy Dice, the chief detective then switched topics. “That just leaves how he spends his money, eh?” For a moment, he sat silently, as if lost in thought, before cryptically adding, “Officially, it’s not quite clear.”
“That’s an interesting way of phrasing it.” Mira asked what exactly he meant by “officially.”
The chief detective explained that it was a bit complicated. “Rumor has it that he donates it all to orphanages, right? Have you heard the same?”
Mira had been told as much by Theresa, a Magical Knights representative who did the clothing brand’s PR; Mira had sat next to her while traveling by train. So it was possible that all Fuzzy Dice’s charity was somehow connected to the orphanage Mira was looking for. If that was just a baseless rumor, she wouldn’t have any reason to continue going after the phantom thief. If it was true, however, then that remained a possible course of action.
More so than who Fuzzy Dice was working with or where he was hiding, it was the question of the orphanage that Mira most wanted to get to the bottom of.
“So you’ve heard as well, Miss Mira. Word sure does get around,” Wolf responded with a knowing smile and shrug. It definitely seemed like he knew something.
“Personally, I’d prefer to think that the rumors are true.” Having just taken a bite of ice cream, Mira smiled broadly.
“So long as you’re all right with discussing it off the record, we can talk about what my investigation has uncovered,” the chief detective responded.
She told Wolf that she had no problem with that, and he dove into his investigation—once again describing every tiny, insignificant finding, like some bird that wouldn’t stop chirping. Apparently, after investigating that rumor, he’d concluded that it was true.
The most important clue had to do with how orphanages were financed. You could separate the continent’s orphanages into three broad categories. The first ran off church donations and were known as church orphanages. These were common. Conditions in them varied greatly depending on the donations they managed to collect, and it wasn’t unusual for the priests running them to get greedy.
The next type was noble orphanages, which were financed by investments from the nobility. Nobles invested in them for all kinds of reasons, sometimes out of the goodness of their hearts or purely for appearances’ sake. The most notable feature of these orphanages was that they often trained the children for careers, so that when they grew up, they could work for establishments run by the nobility.
Lastly, there were independently financed orphanages known as private orphanages. Of the three types, these were rarest; they also had significantly different conditions.
The chief detective had focused on private orphanages close to where Fuzzy Dice had first appeared. He’d drawn on connections he’d made as an adventurer to get his hands on the orphanages’ financial records.
Upon checking those, he’d noticed that several private orphanages had raised at least 50 percent more donations than in previous years. They happened to be smaller, cash-strapped orphanages that were usually in the red. What’s more, Wolf realized that they’d all received donations within a week of Fuzzy Dice executing a heist.
“I went and verified this with those orphanages personally. While I was at it, I asked them for details.”
Ultimately, he’d never gotten the impression that anyone in or around the orphanages—staff or children—was hiding anything.
“I’m fairly confident in my ability to read people. Had they been acting, I’d have seen right through them. But none of them, not even the kids, appeared to be lying. If it was an act, they ought to start a theater,” the chief detective laughed.
The donations had all come from an anonymous donor who delivered the money personally, Wolf continued. Furthermore, he’d delivered it in the dead of night so that no one got a look at him.
The staff said that, after waking up, they’d discovered a suspicious box with for the children scrawled on it. They couldn’t say for sure who it came from, so no one could prove it was the phantom thief’s work.
“Based on the evidence, though, it was most certainly Fuzzy Dice. I reported as much to my acquaintances in the church, but they wouldn’t acknowledge it. And I agree with their decision not to. If it got out that those donations were stolen funds, the state would seize them from the orphanages.”
Since Wolf’s evidence wasn’t definitive, the church had kept quiet about those huge donations, which most likely came from the phantom thief. The only ones who knew about all this were some higher-ups, as well as the acquaintances he’d mentioned.
“I’d appreciate it if you kept what we discussed here secret, just in case,” Wolf added. “Not everyone in the church is on the same side.”
There were greedy individuals in every workplace, including the church. One could only imagine what would happen if the wrong person learned of Wolf’s evidence or the results of his investigation.
“Mm-hmm. Got it. I’ll keep it secret.”
More important than the money that had been stolen, or whatever, was the children’s well-being. Mira smiled to herself; being no tattletale, she wouldn’t have trouble keeping Wolf’s evidence a secret, so she swore not to tell anyone about their conversation.
When she was in the midst of getting more information out of the chief detective, they heard a bell ring loudly twice outside. It rang so loudly that it was audible well into the café’s interior.
“Oh dear. Is it that time already?” asked Wolf. The bell apparently signaled the time.
He hurriedly pulled a notebook from his breast pocket and checked it.
“Unfortunately, I’ve got a few places I need to be. I’m sorry I had you come all the way here. If possible, I’d like to meet again at six to continue our discussion. Would that be all right with you?” he asked apologetically, returning the notebook to his breast pocket. It must’ve been important.
“Hrmm, I don’t mind. Six it is. I’d still like to ask you a few things as well.”
This had been a long conversation. In addition to asking the chief detective about Fuzzy Dice, Mira had been able to query him about other things she was curious about, such as the local orphanages. For that reason alone, she quickly agreed to his proposition.
After getting the chief detective to agree to foot the bill for dinner when they met to talk later, Mira strolled down the main street. It was just after lunchtime, and—perhaps because they had full bellies—the people she passed all appeared content.
After walking a bit, Mira came upon the exact shop she’d been looking for: Dinoire Trading, a fantastic place that specialized in all kinds of supplies and gear for adventures. They had branches in most cities, often conveniently located near the local Adventurers’ Guild Union.
“Now, I wonder how much I’ll get for these…?”
Whenever Mira arrived in a city, she looked around the local Dinoire Trading and ended up buying things that she didn’t need. But this time, she wasn’t there to shop. She was there to sell the magic stones she’d collected so many of in the Ancient Underground City.
Her hopes sky-high, Mira opened the door and went inside.
Haxthausen itself was an old, rather large city that happened to be near several dungeons. For that reason, its Dinoire Trading branch was even bigger than most of the company’s larger stores. Needless to say, they also had a much wider selection.
“Wow. This place is incredible!” Mira exclaimed, her heart leaping.
To sell the magic stones, she needed to go to a counter separate from the checkout. Having learned as much beforehand, Mira resolved to prioritize selling the magic stones. Somehow fighting the urge to check out the shelves chock-full of new gear, she made her way to the sales counter located in one corner.
She was hoping this would go quickly, but two other people seemed to be in line. A staff member handed Mira a ticket. The store seemed to be doing well for itself. The more Dinoire Trading thrived, the more products they’d sell. Mira thought that meant she could expect a good price for her magic stones. Heart pounding, she smiled and hoped she was right.
An employee called to her, “You’re welcome to wait over there, if you’d like.”
Looking toward where they’d indicated, Mira saw a small waiting area beside the counter. Some chairs and tables were set up there, along with several varieties of presumably complimentary drinks.
“All right, I think I’ll do just that.”
Having decided to relax and take a seat there, Mira casually walked over, ticket still in hand. Overhead hung a sign saying CHILDREN’S WAITING AREA. Mira didn’t notice that, however; she was already busy picking a drink.
The two customers before her were also in the waiting area. One boy looked strongly as if he were a mage’s apprentice, and the other looked like a swordsman’s. Mira wasn’t sure whether they’d known each other beforehand or only just met, but the two were talking excitedly about their glorious futures as adventurers.
As Mira made her way over, their voices suddenly stopped. The two youths looked up and down every inch of her in complete silence. They’d fallen in love.
Filling a cup with vanilla rose au lait, Mira glanced at the tables. Are they both waiting to sell stuff too? The two youths were talking quietly about something under their breath. Perhaps afraid that she might notice this, they looked stealthily in Mira’s direction while pretending to go through a Dinoire Trading catalog.
Hrmm. Looks like they’ve taken an interest in me. Wherever there was a cute girl, there was a guy stealing looks at her while pretending to do something else. Understanding exactly how the boys felt, Mira couldn’t help being amused as she took a seat a little ways from them.
I hope I don’t set too high a bar for them… Thinking back on her old self, she recalled a bittersweet chapter in her own youth. As she did so, deep down, she fretted about the two youths’ boyish reactions.
Then she began to overhear bits of their conversation. It wasn’t terribly clear, and seemed to be all over the place, but she got a general idea of what they were talking about.
Things had apparently escalated past innocently chatting about merely liking Mira or thinking she was cute. Rather, they were making plans to start families with her, discussing everything from how much they would need to save to how they would earn livings, as well as their responsibility to provide for their children and, of course, how many children they’d have with Mira. Finally, they discussed how exactly they’d make those children.
Hearing the boys’ surprisingly mature exchange struck Mira speechless. Young people sure are a lot more mature in this world, huh? Perhaps they grew up faster in this world, or their parents educated them that way. Either way, the boys seemed much more grown-up than their appearances let on.
As the pair began to discuss which of them would satisfy her the most, Mira turned away from them and sipped gently from her cup. The bold flavor of roses and vanilla struck her. Smiling to herself, she looked into the distance as she enjoyed the brand-new taste and smell of her vanilla rose au lait.
Shortly thereafter, the swordman’s apprentice’s turn at the counter came, and he was called over. He stood slowly and stole several glances at Mira, as if trying to get his fill. Hearing his name called a second time, however, he scrambled to the sales counter.
Only one person ahead of me now…
This was actually a much more comfortable waiting area than she’d expected. Making herself at home, Mira glanced casually at the boy in the mage robe. With his friend gone, he looked bored beyond belief. That said, Mira wasn’t about to go over and chat with him. She didn’t want to encourage the plans she’d heard him discuss earlier.
Just then, the boy looked up as if to get another peek at her, and their eyes locked. It only lasted a second. The boy sheepishly looked up and away, letting his gaze wander in midair before looking down at the catalog again. Despite his previous conversation’s mature contents, he was seemingly still an innocent young boy inside.
I’m a wicked girl. For some reason, Mira felt a bit relieved. She struck a confident pose while leisurely waiting for her turn.
As she waited, a young girl came into the waiting area too, apparently waiting to go up to the counter after Mira. She poured herself a cup of orange juice and wandered around a bit before sitting across from Mira. The girl wore a long, simple robe and had a short novice’s staff at her waist. Judging from how she looked, she was a mage’s apprentice as well.
She appeared around twelve or thirteen, about the same age as Mira, and was somewhat timid-looking. Staring at Mira, her eyes overflowed with curiosity as she sipped from her cup.
Sensing that gaze, Mira looked up. The girl shifted her eyes slightly before looking again at Mira, having made up her mind to speak.
“Um…are you by any chance the Spirit Queen?” she asked bashfully. Her quiet voice belied her incredibly expectant expression. It was the same look a person would have if they suddenly ran into a celebrity while walking down the street.
Oh ho… Even children recognize me now. I must be pretty famous!
In Grandrings, the city Mira had visited prior to this one, a lot of rumors had been flying around, and word of the Spirit Queen had spread like wildfire. Word evidently spread so far that even Haxthausen’s children recognized her.
Realizing this, Mira attempted to calm herself down to contain her joy, then looked back at the girl with the most placid expression she could muster. “Hrmm. Just about everyone calls me that these days,” she replied, as if they did so despite the fact that the title meant little to her.
The moment she responded, the girl’s face lit up. “So it is you! For a moment, I wasn’t quite sure.”
The voice of the formally reticent young girl took on an exuberant tone; she must’ve been delighted. At the same time, the boy who’d been watching all this jumped in surprise at the sound of her voice.
“It’s an honor to meet you,” replied the girl, who now recognized Mira as the Spirit Queen. Quickly closing the distance between them, she plopped into the seat beside Mira. Eyes gleaming with anticipation, she began peppering Mira with questions. “You fought alongside Master Cyril, right?!”
By “Master Cyril,” she had to mean the man who led Écarlate Carillon.
“Hrmm. Yes, I did,” Mira answered, despite being uncertain as to why the girl was bringing him up. She cheerfully nodded at the girl, who was smiling at her innocently.
Mira soon discovered who the girl was really interested in. She immediately began asking everything she could about Cyril. She started by inquiring about the usual stuff, such as his favorite food and his taste in women, before moving on to ask what he smelled like, how Mira addressed him, and whether he was single. She lobbed dozens of questions.
She wasn’t interested in Mira, the famed Spirit Queen—only in her connection to Cyril. And while the girl was acting like any ordinary starry-eyed young fan, Mira got the feeling that this fascination might be unhealthy.
Thus, she needed to suppress a shudder as the girl asked her final question: “What’s your relationship with Master Cyril?”
“We’re just fellow adventurers who sometimes meet on the battlefield,” Mira replied.
That was how she spent her time with the Cyril-obsessed young girl.
Just then, the male mage’s apprentice was called to the counter. As he stood up, he looked over at Mira—whom the young girl was still hounding—as if some newfound feelings had awakened in him. He engraved the scene in his mind, then made his way to the counter.
Several children in addition to Mira and the Cyril fan now also awaited their turns in the waiting area. Making sure to sit away from Mira and the girl, they all discussed something quietly.
“Is that girl new here?”
“I haven’t seen her around before.”
“Me neither. She’s cute.”
“Maybe this is her first time here.”
“Seems that way. Poor thing.”
It seemed that they all knew the Cyril fan who occasionally appeared in the waiting area. They also knew that once she cornered you, she’d talk your ear off about her frenzied infatuation.
But since she’d managed to corner someone else, that meant she wasn’t targeting any of the newly arrived children. Even if they mentioned an adventurer, they wouldn’t have to worry about her barging in to bring up Cyril. Thankful for Mira’s sacrifice, the other children chatted eagerly about their favorite adventurers.
“Wow. Amazing.” Occasionally interjecting neutral responses to show that she was still listening, Mira clutched her ticket in her fist. Please… she prayed. For goodness’ sake, call my number!
Having finished with her questions, the girl began talking about just how much she adored Cyril. She moved beyond simply fixating on him and began sprinkling in wild delusions as well.
Being an attractive celebrity must be tough, huh…?
The girl spoke eagerly, but with empty eyes that looked like they were gazing into an abyss. That kind of manic love was so pure, yet so deranged. She kept talking to Mira only because she knew that the Spirit Queen had fought alongside Cyril. What would happen if she learned that Mira had shared a meal with him? Had pleasant conversations with him? And even got invited to his room?!
Mira had to make sure not to say the wrong thing. On her guard to keep herself from letting anything slip, she continued to offer nothing but brief, noncommittal responses as the girl spoke. In the midst of this “conversation,” the words Mira had awaited finally rang out. Her number was at last called.
“Oh dear. I do apologize, but it seems I’m being summoned,” said Mira immediately, standing up as if she’d waited hours. She was glad to have a legitimate reason to extract herself from the situation.
“What a shame! There’s still so much I wanted to ask you.”
Mira’s whole purpose for coming—her whole reason for being there!—was to get her magic stones appraised and hopefully sell them. So the girl had to at least accept that excuse, even if she refused to drop the subject.
“Have a good one.” With those brief parting words, Mira rushed to the sales counter as if death itself was behind her.
At the same time, she pointedly ignored Martel as the spirit said things like, “Obsession’s just another form of love.”
After Mira fled, the only ones left in the waiting area were the girl and the group of children sitting together. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. The children had been chatting eagerly about their favorite adventurers, but having lost Mira—their human shield—they’d fallen completely silent.
It went without saying that if the girl overheard them talking about that, she’d come over and start ranting about the greatest adventurer of them all, Cyril.
Still, it wasn’t easy to stay dead silent, and children weren’t usually fans of that kind of atmosphere. One opened their mouth and said a few words. It didn’t have anything to do with adventurers, the topic they’d been excitedly discussing a few moments prior. Rather, they commented on the rumors going around about Fuzzy Dice.
The honorable phantom thief was popular with children. The boys talked about how he was a hero who punished evildoers, while the girls discussed how he was a hero who helped rescue the weak. The way they saw him wasn’t quite the same, but both the boys and the girls looked forward to his next appearance, and they began chatting about him with a fervor equal to their previous discussion’s.
Suddenly, a collective chill ran down their spines. While they chatted back and forth about Fuzzy Dice, a voice cut in, “Master Cyril rescued a lot more people than Fuzzy Dice does.”
The children shuddered as they realized that the girl had, at some point, joined their ranks. And she’d instantly steered the conversation from Fuzzy Dice to the hero of justice, Cyril.
As they waited for an employee to call the girl’s number, the children became robotlike. As Mira had before them, they responded only with occasional indifferent remarks.
Unaware of the disaster that unfolded after she left, Mira was getting an explanation at the counter. She’d told the clerk that it was her first time there, so the clerk explained everything carefully.
First of all, to sell anything, she needed a form of identification. An adventurer’s license was acceptable and was what people most used. Second, appraisal took place in another room with the seller present. The price for magic stones depended not on their size but on how much mana they contained. Finally, if a seller accepted the price determined by the appraisal, the negotiation was over.
At that point, Mira could be paid by one of two different methods: She could simply receive cash, or she could get a payment deposited directly to her adventurer’s account. The clerk mentioned that most children chose to have their payments deposited.
Finishing the explanation, the clerk said, “Now then, come this way.” They ushered Mira toward a door near the counter.
The inside of the room where the appraisal would take place was plain but cluttered with several pieces of equipment, likely used for appraising. A girl in a white coat sat in a chair in the center, giving the room a laboratory-like vibe.
“Welcome. If you please, place your magic stones here,” the girl said with a friendly smile, gesturing to a tray on the table.
Mira saw a faint pair of what appeared to be butterfly wings on the girl’s back. Maybe I should call Mariana tonight. She couldn’t help feeling a bit like a husband working far away from his family. She wanted to hear her wife’s voice.
With that still on her mind, she opened her Item Box to retrieve her magic stones. Now, I wonder how much I’ll get.
Her Item Box contained quite a few magic stones that she’d picked up in the Ancient Underground City. There were small pebble-sized ones and fist-sized ones; Mira presumed that the larger stones must contain more mana and be worth more.
“All right, then. Here you are.” She took out a small, medium, and large stone from her collection and put them on the tray. She had no idea what any of them would be worth.
“Oh, wow. I haven’t seen one that size in a while,” the appraiser said cheerfully, putting the entire tray into an apparatus and flipping a switch.
Her interest piqued, Mira asked what the device was used for. The appraiser responded that it estimated how much mana the magic stones contained. The apparatus made a low rumbling sound as it worked for about ten seconds, then stopped. It was apparently finished checking the stones.
“Thanks for waiting,” the appraiser said as she placed the tray in front of Mira. Gesturing to each stone, she explained their individual worth. The small one was worth a thousand ducats, while the medium-sized one was worth twenty thousand. Finally, the large one was worth a hundred thousand ducats.
Whoa. Even the small one’s worth a thousand. That’s a lot more than back in the day. The prices of the medium and large stones don’t seem to have moved much, though.
Mira reflected on what magic stones went for now, compared to when she was still playing the game. She was happy they hadn’t been appraised for less than what she’d estimated, but she was a bit let down they weren’t worth slightly more. She’d heard that, with the advent of technomancy, demand for magic stones had skyrocketed—but aside from the small stone, the prices hadn’t changed much since thirty years ago. Why was that?
Out of curiosity, Mira asked the appraiser. Specifically, she asked how the prices had remained stable despite the increase in demand compared to three decades earlier.
“To have an idea of what these would’ve cost back then, you must really know your stuff!” the appraiser returned with a smile, then began cheerfully, “Let me tell you about my appraisal…”
The truth, she continued enthusiastically, was that the variety of goods that used magic stones and were sold through Dinoire Trading—those relating to technomancy and magical tools—had now skyrocketed compared to thirty years ago. She explained that, despite the expectation that the price of magic stones would jump to meet that demand, something had happened about thirty years earlier that helped to stabilize the price.
“According to my research, the quantity of magic stones necessary to make those kinds of magic goods is totally different now compared to then. These days, we only need about half as many magic stones!”
She pulled out some documents from somewhere and pointed to a hand-drawn graph. The expression that crossed her face invited Mira to look for herself.
Doing so, Mira saw that the graph was divided into categories corresponding to quantities of magic stones consumed. Apparently, the appraiser was prepared with research materials. Impressed, Mira noticed that the graph showed a steep drop in the number of magic stones used to produce weapons and armor.
The appraiser also said that, for whatever reason, a lot of top craftsmen had retired thirty years ago.
“Oh ho… I see.” Thirty years ago meant around the time when the game became reality and most players vanished.
Mira now understood one reason why the price of magic stones remained unchanged despite the jump in demand. The players who’d worked as craftsmen had all disappeared at once. Armorers and blacksmiths in particular relied on things like special kilns when forging powerful items—and those required large amounts of magic stones. About half the magic stones back then were used for that purpose.
However, thirty years ago, all the craftsmen vanished. Thus, the magic stones no longer being consumed by craftspeople were being used to power equipment and magic tools.
Mira understood that much, but the appraiser wasn’t quite finished. She moved on to describe the results of a study on what had pushed prices down even further.
The other reason the price of magic stones remained stable had to do with actions taken by the Adventurers’ Guild Union. Apparently, the number of people who made a living as adventurers had suddenly increased, so the number of magic stones gathered also rose to meet the demand.
Furthermore, in recent years, craftsmen who’d formally been in “retirement” had begun to trickle back. Their tools and techniques had also evolved considerably, so they no longer needed quite as many magic stones.
The biggest contributing factor to the relatively stable price of magic stones was that special fuels and spirit assistance had become a lot of craftsmen’s preferred methods over the past decade. Those yielded higher-quality results than previous crafting methods. They were extremely difficult to use, so only craftsmen of the highest caliber employed them. But those same craftsmen had previously used the most magic stones, so consumption hadn’t increased.
For those reasons, the appraiser concluded, the magic-stone market had remained mostly unchanged.
“Ah. Now they can make even higher-quality stuff…”
Finished listening to the appraiser’s explanation, Mira was more interested in what she’d said about improved crafting methods than in the magic stones. She began plotting how she could make the strongest equipment possible. The first step had been to get the highest-quality materials from the Machina Guardian. Next, she needed to find a craftsman. That wasn’t a problem, since she’d heard from Soul Howl that there was a laboratory where several former players who’d been craftsmen had gathered.
She also had to consider the information she’d just gotten. Those craftsmen had previously crafted legendary-grade arms and armor. Now, with access to top-quality materials and new crafting techniques, what would they be capable of?
There’s a chance I could get my hands on something mythic-grade…
Mira smiled to herself, picturing a brilliant future in which the Nine Wise Men all finally reunited and she could show off that mythic-grade gear.
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