The money from the guild job was considerably more than what Dallion earned at the inn. Back in Dherma village, the amount would have been considered impressive, verging on unimaginable. Here, Dallion could live a comfortable life… unless he wanted to get any awakened goods or gear. Then, it became a whole different matter. For starters, his current resources weren’t enough for a simple buckler.

After his lunch shift, Dallion had spent several hours going about the city in search of awakened armorers. Those that he found had all their product prices in gold coins. Dallion would have to take out a loan if he were to buy anything remotely adequate, and from the brief conversation he’d had with Hannah, taking out loans was generally a bad idea. Some things seemed to be the same no matter the world.

The more Dallion learned about the economy of the city, the more he saw how incredibly lucky he had been so far. It would have taken him months of saving at the very least to buy a dartbow, and as for the harpsisword… given that it was a level three item, it was starting to look like he wouldn’t be able to afford it in a lifetime. A hint of guilt still lingered on in Dallion’s mind as to how he had obtained it, but it was fading away by the day.

Natural born awakened sure had it tough, unless they were born in a family of means. If it hadn’t been for the awakened shrine, Dallion would likely have remained a level one, spending the rest of his life mending small objects or improving an item per day. It would have taken him years to afford a shrine trial at the current prices. That explained why his grandfather had been so eager to join the army all those years ago—that was one certain method to get ahead. That or becoming an indentured awakened. From what Dallion had heard, there were quite a lot of those in the city, indebted to nobles or people of means. Of course, there was one other way as well, although Nil had been vehemently opposed to even discussing it: the Order of the Seven Moons.

Similar to the monasteries in the wilderness, the Order had shrines and sanctums in most cities, even beyond the borders of the empire. Due to pressure from the nobles, the shrines had been opened to the public, allowing anyone with the means to undergo a trial. In contrast, the sanctums were reserved to members of the Order. That only made Dallion more curious as to their nature. At some point, he was definitely going to visit, but that time wasn’t now.

“What about this one?” Dallion pointed to a small buckler the size of a teacup. This was the fifth awakened armorer he had gone to.

“Seven,” the man replied, with as little as a glance at the item. “Could bring it down to six.”

Seven gold coins. That was still fifty percent more than what Dallion had.

“Any chance I can split the pay? Like two golds per month for three months?”

“Nope.” The man didn’t even bother bargaining.

“Three gold per month?” Dallion offered.

“Six gold,” the armorer said, annoyed. “Take it or leave it.”

That was a bit harsh. Then again, the man was probably used to dealing with low income awakened. The sign above his shop clearly said “Cheapest gear in Nerosal” and judging by the quality of the items it had to be.

“It’s really not worth it,” a familiar voice said from the shop’s entrance. Turning around, Dallion saw Arthurows standing there with a grin on his face. It had been a few days since the two hadn’t seen each other. In awakened time, weeks had gone by.

Unlike the last time Dallion had seen him, Arthurows was dressed much better, the personalized guild emblem hanging prominently from his neck. With a confident smile, he entered the shop and walked up to Dallion.

“For one thing, it’s only decorative,” Arthurows said.

Dallion’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Performers use it during dance routines. It’s pretty high end, I’ll give you that.” Arthurows took the buckler and turned it around. A series of small cracks and chips were visible here and there. “Or had been at some point. Either way, it’s useless in actual combat.”

The shopkeeper didn’t even bother to grunt, directing his attention elsewhere.

“Hey, Arthurows,” Dallion said, trying his best to maintain a smile on his face. “Shopping?”

“Actually, I came to find you.” Arthurows put the buckler back in its place. “I heard you completed a job at the guild, so though you might go off and spend it all on equipment. A personal piece of advice, don’t bother with second hand gear. It’s hardly worth the bother, especially since you never know how easy it’ll break.”

“I thought it could be mended.”

“Good luck mending special materials,” Arthurows laughed. “If you’re capable of that you won’t have any trouble getting armor for free. Any radiant will kill to have someone like that on staff. You might even get snatched by one of the nobles.”

That made sense. If the material was too difficult to be achieved through improving, it stood to logic that it would be equally difficult to mend.

“Still, if you’re set on getting a shield from here, take your pick. It’ll be on me.”

“On you?” Dallion couldn’t but feel suspicious. The entire time during the selection trial, Arthurows had done nothing but slack off, leaving everyone else to do the heavy lifting. He seemed like that sort of person who went through life taking advantage of opportunities and having an angle in anything he did.

“You carried me all the way through the trial.” Arthurows tapped his emblem with a finger. “Got me a mentor, access to better jobs, it’s natural I’d want to pay back the favor. And make no mistake, it’s thanks to you that the rest of us got our mentors. The rest were good solo, but if it wasn’t for you, the group would have been swept away before the first guardian.”

There was no denying that. Even so, Dallion felt good hearing it from someone else. It was a pity that it had to be the slacker of the party.

Maybe I do deserve some credit, Dallion thought, looking at the shields on display. Would it be so bad if he took advantage of the offer? The shop didn’t only offer bucklers, but larger shields as well. Granted, Dallion would have to learn how to use those, but now that he knew how to call items in battle, they could provide a huge advantage.

One shield in particular drew Dallion’s attention. Large and perfectly round, it had an extremely sharp edge, which was ideal for slicing attacks.

“Not a bad choice,” Arthurows said, following Dallion’s glance. “It’s not good for you, though. You need to have athletics to throw that at a target.”

Damn! Athletic skills again.

“No worries,” Dallion lied. “I’m fine. Was thinking about the buckler, but since it’s decorative…” In truth, being reminded of his limitations had soured his mood to the point he didn’t want to look at things to buy anymore.

“I know what you mean. Second hand is no joke when you’re starting out, but once you’re set up, you can’t give that stuff away. The nasty thing is that most of the special weapons can’t be reforged, so you either have to spend a bag of coins on getting it fixed, or an even greater bag of coins on someone mending it. There’s one more option, though.”

“Oh?” Curiosity made Dallion react on instinct.

“You can rent equipment.”

Renting. So simple, and yet Dallion hadn’t thought of that… maybe because none of the shopkeepers so far had agreed to anything other than a direct purchase.

“How?”

“There are a few places.” Arthurows became suspiciously vague. “Most require a large deposit. You can always use guild equipment. It’s cheap, but it’s crap in battle. If you really want to get your hands on something good, you have to become a member.” There was a slight glint in Arthurows’ eyes. “Interested?”

So, this was the angle. Now Arthurows’ behavior suddenly made much more sense. Even without knowing anything about this world’s economic system, Dallion could see that his guild mate was involved in some kind of scam. If Dallion was to guess it was going to be something along the lines of “every member can use the items of every other member.” Thus Dallion was going to be free to use a shield of his choosing, but in exchange would have to surrender his harpsisword to the club. Likely at a later point some unexpected incident would happen, resulting in a lot of club items disappearing, among which Dallion’s harpsisword.

“Definitely,” Dallion smiled. While he had no intention of joining such a club, he was extremely curious about seeing it. “Okay if we go there now?”

“You don’t waste time, do you?” Arthurows shook his head. “Sure. Let’s go.”

Dallion’s hunch turned out to be correct. After ten minutes of walking, they had already entered what passed as a less reputable area of the city. Unlike earth, the cities in this world were made to look magnificent—a city’s level was an indication of its power, so filthy alleyways and decaying buildings were quickly mended and improved. The people living there, though, were a different matter. Closed doors and shuttered windows were a clear sign that the people of the neighborhood were hiding from the outside world; the lack of shops and overabundant of low-grade taverns, though rarely inns, was an indication that no one wanted to take the risk of opening a serious business here, relying on the lowest vices instead.

“Drunkard’s end,” Arthurows whispered as they walked. “Not a place I’d suggest you go to. However, it’s the fastest shortcut.”

“The club isn’t here?” Dallion asked, genuinely surprised.

“You’d have to be crazy to do business here. Even the alcohol’s watered down. Don’t worry, though, we’ll be fine. People know better than to attack an awakened, especially if there’s more than us.”

That much was true. Dallion could hear the whispers of the locals as he walked on. There was fear in their voices, sometimes mixed with hatred.

“How did people end up here?”

“Depends. Gambling debts, war orphans, people with skills that can’t match up to an awakened. Some came to the city in the hopes of getting lucky. Unless you’re an awakened, nine out of ten times you’ll end up here. And of course, there are also those who take advantage of people in misery,” Arthurows almost spat out the words. Although it was a whisper, for Dallion, it sounded like a shout.

“And the city does nothing?”

Arthurows glanced at Dallion for a few seconds, then faced forward again.

“Sometimes I forget you came from outside,” he sighed. “The cities are only good for the awakened and those with money. Being born with good skills doesn’t cut it. Unless you have exceptional skills and in an area that the awakened don’t want to touch, life is tough. Take you. You’ve been here for a week and already you have a place to stay, food, guild membership, and enough money that would survive this entire neighborhood for a week. Do you think anyone else can march in a tavern and get a job off the bat? No. The only thing the city does is give them enough food to keep them dressed and alive. Sometimes not even that much.”

“What about the Order?”

“The Order’s not as generous as they claim to be.” There was hatred there. It lasted only for a moment, but thanks to Dallion’s frequent use of his music skills in the awakened realms, he was able to spot it. “The only way to get out of here is to be lucky enough and have a child that awakens early. That and—”

“Why hello, there,” a voice said a few steps away.

A group of five people had gathered on the road, blocking Arthurows and Dallion’s path.

“Nice day, isn’t it? The only thing that would make it nicer is a charitable donation to all the less fortunate in the neighborhood,” the leader of the group said—a large man with, dressed in worn down adventurer clothes. “Lucky that such generous people happened to pass by.” The man grinned.

Five against two awakened? Dallion was just about to make an offhand comment when he suddenly stopped. A silvery glint on the man’s neck caught his attention. That wasn’t just a random piece of jewelry, it was a chain of sky silver, which meant that despite their looks this band of people weren’t common thugs—they were awakened, fully awakened at that.