Credits still glowed in my hunter's account, though the sting of the two tomes—Safeguard and Minor Heal—was fresh. Nearly half a million credits gone in an instant. Worth it, yes. But the lesson was clear: power was expensive.
Skills wouldn't matter if my body broke under the first strike. Gear was the difference between living to see tomorrow and becoming another forgotten rookie statistic.
The Hunter's Armory sat across from the Skill Hall, its massive iron doors engraved with runes of strength and resilience. Inside, the air smelled of oiled steel and treated leather. Rows of mannequins stood clad in enchanted armor, while weapon racks gleamed with polished edges.
"Looking for equipment?" A burly quartermaster with a trimmed beard eyed me from behind the counter. His gaze lingered on my empty belt and lack of visible weapons. "Rookie, huh?"
I didn't bother denying it. "I need something reliable. Balanced. Not flashy."
He grunted approvingly. "Good. Flashy gets you killed."
He led me through the aisles, pointing out options.
Weapons:
Iron-forged Longsword [E] – dependable, mana-conductive, $70,000.
Steel Hunting Dagger [E] – lightweight, quick draw, $40,000.
Runed Greatsword [D] – heavy, mana channels etched into the blade, $200,000.
Mana-Conductive Staff [E] – amplifies casting efficiency, $65,000.
Armor:
Reinforced Leather [E] – light, flexible, minimal defense. $55,000.
Iron Plate Vest [E] – sturdy chest protection, weighty. $90,000.
Frost-Resistant Cloak [D] – insulation against cold-based attacks, $180,000.
Adaptive Combat Suit [D] – balanced protection, built for mobility. $250,000.
The prices made my stomach tighten. I'd just burned nearly $500,000 on skills. A reckless purchase here could cripple my growth.
I ran my hand over the Iron Longsword. Balanced weight, familiar grip. I wasn't a swordsman, but every hunter needed something to fall back on if mana ever faltered. Even with infinite mana, there were situations where a blade spoke louder than flame.
"Longsword," I said. "And the Adaptive Combat Suit."
The quartermaster's brows rose slightly, then he nodded. "Not bad for a rookie. That'll be $320,000."
I signed the transfer, wincing at the drop in my account. Gear was as much of an investment as skills.
When I donned the Adaptive Combat Suit, I immediately felt the difference. Lightweight yet sturdy, it hugged my frame without restricting movement. The material shimmered faintly with runes that flexed with my mana, strengthening where needed.
The longsword slid into the sheath across my back. Heavy enough to matter, light enough not to drag me down.
I caught my reflection in the mirror: no longer just a boy fumbling through fire and frost. A hunter. Rough edges, yes—but equipped, armed, and shielded by skills both mystical and material.
As I stepped out of the armory, the district's buzz swallowed me again. My pouch was lighter, my account thinner, but for the first time, I felt prepared.
Next dungeon, I wouldn't just survive.
I would dominate.