Chapter 84: Changing Clothes

Life is full of surprises; when Li En received this “check,” he truly thought he’d accidentally added an extra zero.

“Well, that’s what she said,” said Sallyman, too weary to bother with embellishment.

The Princess is upstairs? You just have a meal and get paid?

“Why not just get it done now?” Li En thought it too troublesome to make two trips; why not pay and finish it in one go?

“She says she doesn’t want to see you for a while.”

Alright, then let’s call it a day.

Li En didn’t refuse the money—he had no leisure to spare; he needed cash everywhere.

He casually inquired how much damage his actions had caused that day.

“No need,” Sallyman not only saw through him but politely declined.

“At least let me express my gratitude,” Li En tried again.

“This? Not even enough for change,” Sallyman spoke plainly.

Hearing this, Li En fell silent, and decided to just drop it.

In a certain sense, the Sudar family still lived up to its status as an old noble house; the artworks and decorations displayed in the hall, courtyard, and corridors were all treasures.

After eating, Li En immediately took his leave.

He noticed the maid had also delivered food upstairs—clearly, Dainya held little fondness for him.

He didn’t rush back; coming to Huicheng District wasn’t easy, so he headed to Mage Street instead, ready to spend.

“Go shopping! Go shopping!” Kuku was even more excited than Li En.

“This is all my money! My money!”

“First buy a modern magical pharmacopoeia, then get a steam engine kit!”

“By the way, those foreign enchantments are interesting—maybe study them?”

If Kuku were truly allowed to spend, this “fortune” wouldn’t last two days.

“Fix the emergency first,” Li En pleaded and persuaded until Kuku abandoned the plan to waste it all in one day.

At dusk, Mage Street glowed brightly—magic lamps, steam-powered lights, and flickering electric lamps made the street prettier than daytime, leaving the “country bumpkin” Li En stunned.

Especially the bank where he withdrew money: not only did it have absurdly huge lamps, but it also used steam-powered conveyor belts—pure luxury and uselessness. The glittering belts carried customers right to the counter—how much effort did that save?

Li En vaguely realized that magical civilization wasn’t backward—it just seemed unrelated to most ordinary people.

After withdrawing money, the mage shops were still open; Li En went straight to pay his tuition.

This earned him a raised eyebrow from his senior; a mage with money might not go far, but one without money would surely move slowly.

The senior, who had been about to clock out, enthusiastically promoted the shop’s goods.

Including mid-tier spell scrolls, staves, custom robes, and meditation incense—all practical, not overly overpriced.

But when Li En subtly indicated he had no interest, the senior didn’t press further.

After all, this was still a mutual selection phase—too many aspiring spellcasters spent their whole lives as apprentices.

Some gifted individuals ultimately abandoned their path for other reasons.

Before confirming one’s talent and direction, investing recklessly is pointless—in plain terms, don’t buy gym equipment and textbooks that’ll just gather dust at home!

Li En was clear-headed: before knowing exactly what he needed, training classes and self-study courses were essentially wasted investments.

You might never get rich in the future, but the course sellers definitely did.

“What I need most right now is immediate combat power.”

Li En was pragmatic; he didn’t believe his future would be peaceful—even without the Violet Rose’s contract, he needed combat readiness.

“How much for a full plate armor?”

With money in hand, he naturally wanted the best; Li En walked confidently into the equipment shop marked with Dwarf script.

Dwarf armor was famed for its durability and functionality, crafted with generous materials and fine workmanship; aside from being slightly heavy and expensive, it had few negative reviews.

“Uh, other full knight armors are 40 to 60 gold coins—yours start at 70? Good quality ones are 80 or 90, easily over 100?”

This price seemed a bit ridiculous.

But as Li En touched the armor’s strangely textured metal, his eyes couldn’t look away.

Unlike the static equipment tiers in legendary tales, the fantasy world’s armor industry constantly evolved.

In this multiverse’s endlessly long cold-weapon era, the three core pillars—smelting, enchantment, and material technology—had continuously advanced.

In ancient times, armor might still have been made of mithril or adamantine, but today’s armors no longer used pure metals; alloys were the norm.

“What’s this material?” Li En couldn’t tell, but the feel was exceptional.

“Terso-17 synthetic steel, at least 3% adamantine, combined with full Dwarf rune-stone inlay technology.”

Compared to other races’ blacksmiths, the Dwarves—who inherited fragments of “Giant technology”—were masters at “playing with stones.”

Their unique craft infused special stone materials into the alloy, greatly enhancing armor quality.

Li En touched the 120-gold-coin armor, haggling aloud, yet inwardly didn’t think it expensive—it was far superior to his original 60-gold standard military gear.

“How heavy?”

“About 1.3 times the weight of standard armor of the same size, but good armor is always like this—you can’t have hardness without sacrificing openness.” A bit heavier and pricier was the Dwarf trademark—don’t like it? Don’t buy.

The salesperson wasn’t a Dwarf, but a scantily clad “bunny girl.”

Wealthy, skilled Dwarves worked in the back or waited at the counter to collect payment; the main laborers here were local beastfolk.

“What are the stats?” Li En glanced at the label but didn’t understand.

“Magic resistance 67 Fuda, slashing resistance average 88 S Daer .” The salesgirl rattled off numbers; Li En didn’t grasp them, but they sounded impressive.

“It has magic resistance?”

“Of course! For frontline warriors, spells are the biggest nuisance.”

The salesgirl was used to customers asking about magic resistance.

These days, full armor sold better if it had magic resistance—even if the actual protection was negligible.

Whether you’d use it or how much you’d use it was one thing; but you had to have it. Market demand lacked cost-effectiveness, yet it was mainstream.

After all, full-armor users didn’t want to be roasted or electrocuted.

“No magic resistance at all—pure physical defense only,” this customer was different.

Li En remembered Larry’s armor—loaded with resistances, perfect for ordinary warriors or knights, but—

“.I’m a Holy Knight.” The faint golden glow on his hand was proof.

“Even Holy Knights need some resistance,” the salesgirl remained puzzled; Holy Knights had higher innate resistance, but low- and mid-tier ones still chased after armor with magic and elemental resistance.

For Holy Knights, spellcasters and magical creatures were the true enemies; in a sense, as those always hunting evil, they needed magic resistance more than warriors.

Li En smiled, offering no further explanation—the purity of his Oath Knight status rose further.

“Try this then—Terso-21 synthetic steel, over 5% adamantine, no mithril, coated with enchanted obsidian.” The salesgirl led him straight to the back warehouse.

Li En liked the armor’s spiked design—it would feel great in impact.

The metal felt dense and solid; without magic or elemental resistance, it was surprisingly light—yet—

“It’s black.” Black knights were cool, but Li En wasn’t suited for it.

“We offer free color customization. Gold, silver, or weathered white?” This request was standard—over ninety percent of Holy Knights chose one of these three.

“Silver, but light—don’t make it shine under moonlight.”

The salesgirl nodded; clearly a true knight, not a noble’s spoiled son—those boys wanted to glitter in every public appearance.

“Alright, combat-grade paint coating—this shade 18-silver okay?” She pulled out a color chart.

The professionalism made Li En feel odd, but he was satisfied with both armor and service.

In the end, Li En paid only 90 gold coins for this armor he found quite impressive.

When placing the order, he learned it was a slow-moving item—warriors who could afford this price usually demanded magic and elemental resistance.

Li En didn’t lack need—he just felt the armor’s elemental resistance couldn’t match his Oath Knight’s innate protection.

He’d snagged a small bargain; the armor’s production cost was nearly this price, and its original retail had exceeded 120 gold coins.

“Boom!”

“Crack!” Armor required fitting; a wild-looking one-eyed giant easily disassembled it, allowing Dwarf craftsmen to adjust it to Li En’s body measurements.

Looking around, Li En noticed many small Giant-kind workers in this Dwarf shop named “Huiguang Rockshield.”

When Li En heard Dwarves were descendants of Giants, he thought he’d misheard—but now, it was clear these shield Dwarves had inherited their ancestors’ technology and civilization.

Since he could pick it up today, Li En didn’t leave; while waiting, he browsed other items.

“Space bag—show me the smallest one.”

He bought a small space bag, max capacity around 200 kilograms.

The “space bag weight increment” of stored items was roughly one-tenth—so fully loaded, it added only about 20 kg of burden, an excellent compression ratio.

This was essential gear for veteran adventurers and travelers—far easier than carrying supplies directly.

Li En planned to use it for carrying armor and weapons, since ordinary spellcasters couldn’t wear heavy armor.

He also bought a short dagger, a precision crossbow, a medical kit, and twelve enchanted bolts—all for just two gold coins.

Li En’s Spirit Codex’s built-in space could carry items too, but constantly pulling things from it was asking for trouble—anyone who knew what they were doing and traced it back would cause major problems.

This was already a low-end small space bag, barely enough for one armor plus a supply box, yet it cost 150 gold coins.

His shopping urge rising, he hesitated—should he just get something better?

“Do you have speed boots?” Ever since trying them, Li En had been thinking about them.

“Yes, yes! We have the ones crafted personally by the Gnome master S Daer —only 14,500 gold coins!”

Okay, I shouldn’t have asked—I’m not worthy.

After some thought, Li En bought a steel longsword, still in the Hero Sword style.

He specifically requested that its exterior be identical to the original, for easy replacement when necessary.

But once he got it and gave it a quick test, Li En found it far more comfortable to wield than the genuine Hero’s Sword.

“Dwarven craftsmanship?” The blade had been lightened, and its edge clearly bore a simple sharpness enchantment.

Swinging it felt faster, sharper.

It wasn’t an illusion—without activating the true power of the Hero’s Sword, this replica was indeed more practical than the original.

The price was reasonable too; even with an extra scabbard included, it cost Li En only two gold coins.

Meanwhile, the sales clerk reminded him that the armor he bought came with a recommended “enhancement package.”

“This armor is compatible with Enhancement Scheme No. 165: Stone Skin. ‘Fairy’s Art’ Enchantment Shop offers premium permanent enchantments; this package starts at 300 gold coins.”

In other words, if he spent another 300 gold coins, he could add a “charged” Stone Skin effect (once per day) that would greatly boost defense for a short time—at the cost of reduced speed.

This spell was not the same as the fourth-rank Stone Skin spell (which was far more expensive and required diamond dust as a casting material), but more like a “petrified coating,” offering protection roughly equivalent to a first- or second-ring spell—yet still dramatically improving combat defense.

Li En realized that purely handcrafted, mineral-based items were priced normally, but once magic or enchantments were involved, prices became arbitrary—sellers could just add zeros at will.

Seeing Li En still tempted by the speed boots, the clerk offered an alternative.

“These boots come with a built-in Feather Fall enchantment (activated), and paired with this pouch of Jumping Spell scrolls, they can greatly increase mobility in the short term—and the whole set costs just over 100 gold coins.”

Li En was tempted, but he refused.

“Kuku can make better ones. Better ones!”

“That Stone Skin armor? Give me the materials, and I’ll enchant it with the real Stone Skin spell!!”

Though Li En didn’t fully believe it, his wallet decided to pretend he did.

Once the armor was ready, Li En left immediately.

He was certain that if he kept browsing, his 1,300 gold coins would be completely spent in this shop.

And now that he’d changed equipment, Li En didn’t rush home—he’d already wasted a day on his surgery and missed his scheduled meeting with Dimon and the others.

Of course, he also wanted to casually show off his new armor.

But as soon as he reached the docks, Dimon handed him another hard-to-refuse spending opportunity.

(End of Chapter)