I sleep in until late morning.

It takes me a while to get up. My eyelids are heavy and my movement is sluggish. I tell myself that I should be up already, but my body seems to disagree.

I told myself I’d get up first thing in the morning to do something, but what exactly was it? I struggle to remember. Whatever it was, it must not be that important.

I force myself into a sitting position and find myself staring at the edge of a bed I don’t recognize and a room that I’ve never been in.

I almost call out for Ma before my brain registers where I am.

Upon remembering the reality of my situation, I’m even less inclined to remove myself from the floor.

In fact, I lay back down for about ten more minutes. It’s not like I’m in a rush anyway.

I start to count the number of wood planks in the ceiling.

It’s the first time in a very long time that I haven’t gotten up early. There’s no security attend to, no gathering to do, no organizing, no spying on patrols, no hunting, no nothing. Any semblance of motivation that I had when I entered the town yesterday had gone with the night. I’m alone in my room with my thoughts. I’m still stuck on what I should be doing to fulfill Ma’s request.

Do I kill humans until there are just as many monsters as there are of them?

That doesn’t sound right. In fact, that sounds almost impossible. There are way too many. Even if I got an extra couple millennia added onto my already extremely long lifespan, it would never be enough time. That’s also completely ignoring those adventurers who are just blatantly stronger than me.

Maybe she wants me to rally monsters against the humans? That sounds more feasible, but where would I even start? It’s not like I have any sort of leadership skills.

I blow a strand of hair out of my face.

What did you mean, Ma?

Maybe her trust in me was just misplaced. What can I do, actually?

I roll onto my side and pull the black rock out of my cloak. I begin to rub it gently with the end of my thumb. It eases my sense of uselessness. I squint at the rock’s design. The smile has yet to appear again.

‘What did it do to Ma that made her so powerful?’

At the very least it’s a transformation rock. That’s the only thing I’ve seen it do, after all.

I try to channel mana into it. Nothing.

Aaaaaand that exhausts all my ideas.

I lay still, grasping the stone tight. After holding it for a long enough time, even despite its mystery, I begin to feel a bit better. Maybe it was just the knowledge that I still had something to remember my mother by. I can’t really tell, my mind is a mess right now.

I return the stone to my cloak.

Regardless of whether or not I’m capable of upholding the legacy of the cucuy, I still have to give an effort, and sitting around here isn’t going to help that one bit.

I sit back up and slap my face in an attempt to beat away the sluggishness. It doesn’t really work, but I stand up anyway.

Remembering what I need to do, I gather all my belongings and set out to Richie’s.

__________________

The front door opens, and I enter a surprisingly small room with a set of three more doors. Above each door is a picture of a weapon, chest plate, and anvil from right to left respectively.

After a very short deliberation, I decide to check the armor door first to assess whether or not I needed a new set at all. I walk through the middle door.

Upon entering the actual shopping area, the store is just as you would expect it to look from the outside: gigantic and filled to the brink with sturdy-looking armor. The area is categorized into extremely long aisles created by shelves housing the armor. Each one is marked by the type of armor that they hold. The entire building seems to be made of the same dark stone as the walls keeping out invaders.

What I didn’t expect was the place to be absolutely packed with adventurers. They’re everywhere, each browsing a section in adherence to their specific needs. Archers seemed to hover around the leather armor section while the bigger warriors looked through EXTREMELY heavy-looking plate armor.

Surprisingly, a lot of the armor seems to be moderately stylized in varying colors and designs, as if the customers here were trying to match with their outfits.

A man passes by me with a lion engraved in his chest plate.

Seems a little over the top.

I just want to leave now. There are too many people here. I decide to quickly check the light armor section to get this over with.

This seems to be the most versatile armor amongst adventurers, because this section is absolutely teeming with people, many carrying different weapons from one another. Swordsmen, spearmen, thieves, and knucklers seemed to be the most common.

I do my best to push past them and look through the armor. No one pays me any mind. After a quick scan, I don’t find anything of interest. Should’ve just skipped this part after all.

Now for the real reason I’m here.

I make my way back to the weapon door and enter.

This area is significantly less crowded, for some reason. It seems to be less organized as well. The only people here are all of a very similar nature in that they appear to be somewhat poorer than the individuals I saw perusing the armory. Interesting. I turn my attention back to the weapons.

Most of them were sticking out from barrels in very generalized sections, as if they were produced and then just haphazardly thrown into widely categorized areas, despite their obvious differences.

I spot claymores in the same barrels as short swords and bucklers in shield barrels, as if there were no difference.

Before I get frustrated with the complacency displayed, I decide to no longer care about how the store-owner chooses to organize his wares. I begin to look for the spear section.

After having done battle with that exceptionally skilled crocodile spearman, I knew that I had to have a weapon with much longer range than what I currently owned. I need a polearm of somesort.

It doesn’t take long for a particular weapon to catch my eye. It’s a small rod with a spearhead at the end, as if someone had forgotten the remainder of the shaft. It lays all the way at the bottom of the barrel, so it would have been easy to miss if I was just looking for one thing in particular. Curious as to what it was doing in the spear section, I ask the man at the front desk about it. He seems pretty happy to give an explanation.

“Ah, that. That’s a new product I was working on. It’s basically an extendable spear.” His eyes light up a little bit talking about his creation.

“It’s a very practical design, but no one who wields a spear really wants to buy it. I don’t completely understand why that is, because it’s really convenient. Look.”

The man pours a negligible amount of mana into the weapon. The rod quickly turns into a full- length spear through a series of telescope-like extensions. However, the difference in size between those extensions is almost completely unnoticeable. That frightens me in terms of its durability. This kind of design would have to mean that the cylindrical extensions that make up the spear are exceedingly thin. The shop owner was prepared for such thoughts.

“I bet you’re thinking it’d break in a fight, right? Wrong.” He takes a hammer out from behind his desk and slams it as hard as he can into the weapon. It doesn’t even so much as scratch the metal or shift the rods. Color me impressed.

“It’s made of a mana reinforced metal that the boss has been working on. Not only that, but the system that keeps the extensions locked in place is basically technology I borrowed from the big boys over in The Anvil. I don’t know all the details, but I’m willing to bet it won’t break on you. Ever. I trust in the boss’s work”.

I nod my head, having already been convinced.

“Yes, this does seem like it’s a little too good to be true. I’m surprised they’re not selling”. I once again hold the rod, weighing it in my hand. I didn’t really notice before, but it’s actually really light.

“The adventurers around here would rather carry around a big weapon and look cool”. The man scoffs.

“They’re probably compensating for something. Wouldn’t know a good weapon if it bit ‘em in the arse. They’re all too busy trying to get one of those “rare” magic weapons from the mountain yetis, so most ‘em tend to ignore my shop”. The man begins to pout, but I’m in high spirits. Not only did the man just introduce me to a decent weapon, but he also just let me in on a useful piece of information. I’ll still go to the local guild to make sure, but the more information I have, the better.

“Well, I’ll buy it. Better yet, I’ll show those other spearmen what they’re missing out on. Trust me.” I smile warmly at the man.

I flip five silver coins onto the desk; the price marked on the barrel the spear was in. I turn to take my leave.

“Thanks again.”