'Need to stock up on supplies,' he thought. He had one gold left, yet it was enough.
Elvira seemed the most reliable for general knowledge.
He found her gazing at the sky, lost in thought, before the sound of his footsteps drew her attention. She turned her head, meeting his approach.
"Elvira, I need your help." His tone was polite as he stopped just a few feet from the bench. "Do you know of any places selling supplies?"
She studied him, weighing his intentions. "It depends on what you need. The general store is close by, near the main road if you need provisions. But for more specialized items..."
Her eyes flicked to the dagger sheathed at his side. "There's a shop to the right selling poisons and elixirs."
Vergil nodded in approval. Exactly what he was looking for. She knew what was useful and didn't waste words. That was comforting.
"Thank you."
"Be careful with that place. The old man running it isn't your average merchant. He's a master of his work but enjoys playing with new customers like you." Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Just make sure you leave with what you need."
Playing with the customer. Amusing, but troublesome. Still, he would manage.
---
Ding. Ding. Ding.
The shop felt half-dead before he even stepped inside, the bell jingling as the door creaked open. Outside, the sign dangled loosely; inside, the air was heavy with a strangely pleasant scent.
Shelves lined the walls, crowded with bottles of every shape and color, each row arranged with obsessive care.
Behind the counter hunched an old man, a vial in hand. His skin was like parchment, his robes blotched with stains of countless experiments. One eye was murky grey, the other amber, both gleaming with mischief. The scent of herbs clung to him like a second skin.
Each movement was slow and deliberate, the essence of time itself weighing him down. A sweet herbal scent lingered about him.
"A new day, a new face," he croaked, coughing lightly before smirking. "Welcome to my abode of oddities. The name's Osric. What do you seek?"
Suspicious. Definitely. But Vergil needed what he offered.
"I'm looking for a paralysis potion," he said firmly, straight to business.
"Ah, a boy who knows the value of an unfair fight. I can respect that." Osric's tone carried subtle interest as he leaned back. "For an E-rank potion, a vial will run thirty silver."
"And what about an E-rank health potion?" Vergil asked.
"Restoring life is always trickier," Osric said thoughtfully. "That will be sixty silver."
They were expensive, but worth it.
"I'll take one of each."
The old man chuckled, reaching behind the counter and setting down two vials. One shimmered dark green, the other glowed faintly red.
"A fine choice. But be careful with the paralysis potion. You wouldn't want to poison yourself by mistake."
"I'll keep that in mind," Vergil muttered, sliding the gold coin across the counter.
The moment it left his hand, a notification flickered before his eyes.
[Inventory Unlocked]
[You now have a storage capacity of 20 items! Additional space can be unlocked using Astralyth stones or other rare materials.]
Finally. He tucked the potions safely into his inventory instead of carrying them in his pouch. The dagger, though, he kept at his hip. Too dangerous to pull it out mid-battle.
With supplies secured, he decided to return to Elvira. The world was complicated, and information was a must. Understanding it would give him the edge he needed—maybe even leverage.
Wait, he thought. Wouldn't my system know something?
[If you already learned the information, then I can tell you. Otherwise, I'm just a useless system.]
The voice sounded sulky. He rolled his eyes. This was what he had to deal with now.
---
Elvira was still at the same spot when he returned, watching him approach with a curious gleam.
"We meet again," she spoke lightly. "Did you need something else?"
He hesitated before answering. "I… want to know more about the world."
Her expression shifted into deep thought. "Shouldn't you already know that?"
His gaze dropped briefly. His voice was quieter than usual. "I lost my memories. When I woke up, I was already here."
She studied him, eyes narrowing as though testing the truth of his words. Then, with a sigh, she rose.
"Poor soul," she murmured. "That explains a few things." She gestured toward her home. "Come inside. If you plan to survive, you'll need more than instinct."
Warmth struck first, the house carrying the scent of dried herbs and old parchment. Shelves filled with books and scrolls, dust gathering where hands hadn't touched in at least years. A wooden table stood at the center, a cushioned chair pulled close to the crackling hearth.
"Sit here, Vergil," Elvira said, motioning toward the chair opposite her.
She plucked an aged leather tome from the shelf, brushed off the dust, and laid it open on the table. A hand-drawn map sprawled across the double page—mountains, seas, borders. Entire kingdoms waiting for their stories to be told.
"Being ignorant is bliss," she said quietly. "But too much ignorance will kill you. So listen well."
"Their are seven great powers divide the world."
Her hand rested first on the sprawling golden lands.
"The Huanglong Dominion. Cultivators, pill refiners, array masters. Strength rules everything there. Their emperor is dying, and his heirs circle the throne like vultures. When he falls, so will the lasting peace."
Vergil raised a brow. "So basically a land where kids half my age could fold me in half."
"Exactly." Her lips curved wryly.
She shifted northeast, tracing forests and rivers.
"Thaelon. The Kingdom of Magic. Their capital sits on a leyline nexus, mana so thick it seeps from the ground. A council of archmagi rules, their leader bending time itself. It is paradise for mages… and hell for fools."
Vergil whistled low. "Yeah, I won't mix well with them."
Elvira didn't smile. "You'll cross paths with them sooner than you think."
Her hand drifted east, across the painted sea to jagged islands floating in cloud.
"The Sky Kingdom. Wind mages, stormcallers, and engineers. They build constructs that fly—ships, gliders, weapons. Their chosen heir bears the Storm's blessing. With it, he commands lightning itself."
Vergil blinked. "Ships that fly? Now that sounds like fun."
Her expression darkened as she turned southeast, her fingers trembling slightly.
"Aurelia," she whispered. "The Holy Kingdom of Light. Its city gleaming with white spires and cathedrals. A theocracy ruled as much by faith as by politics."