By the time I woke up, Mahya and Al were gone, so I took Rue out for breakfast and wandered through the mall. Each time I came here, I appreciated it a little more. It was surprisingly thoughtful of the city planners to group everything in one place. It made it easy to get a sense of what this world had to offer without having to run all over the city.

The next two sections were moderately interesting. Carpets were first, followed by furniture. The furniture section had a weird contrast that didn't make much sense. They sold either super-basic, rough wooden pieces that looked like they belonged in some remote village a thousand years ago, or over-the-top, fancy stuff—draped in fabrics, covered in carved reliefs, and trimmed with gold. Suddenly, our hotel suite, which looked like a king’s treasury exploded there, made a lot more sense.

The section after that was the jackpot. Magical items. I stepped into a store dedicated entirely to storage jewelry and ended up losing more than two hours inside. I had my own Storage, so I didn’t need anything, but I couldn’t pull myself away.

Back on Earth, I’d read about storage rings and magical bags. Later in my travels, I “collected” some rings and even storage pouches from cultivators. So the idea wasn’t new, but this was on a completely different scale.

They had everything: rings, bracelets, armlets, earrings, brooches, necklaces, pendants, even storage tiaras. The size of the jewelry didn’t always match the space inside. Some pieces were massive but barely held anything, like the tiaras. The real champions were the rings and bracelets.

One plain mithril ring was the winner. It wasn't flashy. Just a simple band sitting quietly in a glass case like it belonged in a discount bin. The label claimed it held just under 2,200 cubic meters, if I was right in my conversion from local measurements.

And the price ... 600 mithril coins.

I pulled out a pen and paper, did some quick math, estimated the gold weight based on my coins, and converted it using the gold prices from before I left Earth.

Almost 200 million dollars.

My hand froze. I stared at the number. Then at the ring. Back to the paper. Then the ring again. My mind didn’t just stop. It stepped out, locked the door behind it, and went for a long walk.

I took a long walk out of the store.

Another store focused on bags had a similar lineup, just in wearable form. There were small purses, crossbody slings, and rugged adventuring packs, all enchanted with varying degrees of storage capacity. Some of the bigger ones could probably swallow a small town. And the prices matched—somewhere between ridiculous and completely unhinged.

They also carried specialized bags designed for specific uses. One type had less internal space but offered serious weight reduction, especially for hauling metals. Another allowed plants to keep growing inside. There were even water bags enchanted to hold a few thousand liters without tearing or leaking, which made my brain itch just trying to figure out the enchantment structure behind it.

By this point, Rue had given up on me. I was still muttering to myself in disbelief, caught somewhere between awe and a mental breakdown. He let out a long-suffering huff and announced, “Rue wait outside for John stop making strange noises,” before turning and trotting out of the store like he wanted nothing to do with me.

After the storage section came spells, which I skipped entirely. I wasn’t in the mood for another price-induced existential crisis, and honestly, I didn’t need more spells. I already had a bunch I barely used, so picking up more felt pointless. Plus, I still had plenty of ability points to spend.

But a few stores later, a sign caught my eye—spell marbles. That wasn’t something I could just walk past.

The selection here was on a completely different level. Until now, my understanding of spell marbles was shaped by Al’s explanations and my own experience crafting them with runes and script instead of using traditional aspect weaving. Browsing through these displays and reading the details made the differences click into place.

Spell scrolls were simple. Direct. You poured in mana and got a specific effect. They didn't have any frills or flexibility. Spell marbles were something else entirely. They weren’t static, but intricate, reactive constructs. Each one built to adjust mid-cast. They followed conditional logic—if this happens, do that—built right into the weave. Less like a spell and more like a tiny magical program. That was the real difference. They weren’t made to cast for you, they were built to cast intelligently. You could slot them in, activate them, and trust that they’d handle the situation as needed.

I was proud of myself for figuring out that characteristic when I built my own spell marbles. I’d built them right—at least, mostly—just going off instinct. But apparently, not right enough. When I asked the seller if the spell marbles could level, he looked at me like I was an alien and said, “Of course. Every spell levels.”

The prices, though, were a whole different story. Or maybe just the same local story, told again with extra zeroes.

Guardian’s Resolve

Creates a layered defense around the caster or chosen target. First absorbs physical damage, then elemental, then kinetic shock. If the outer layer fails, the spell shifts mana to strengthen the next layer. Ends with an emergency displacement if all defenses collapse.

Mana Cost: 1,200

It cost 100 mithril. Ridiculous, but not completely off the table. Might actually be perfect for Mahya, considering she traded her Mana Shield. Either way, I figured the decision—and the payment—should be hers, but suspected she wouldn't see it this way. The mana cost was half her reserve.

Healing Cascade

Scans nearby allies and automatically applies the appropriate healing spells in order of severity. The spell stops bleeding, removes poisons, closes wounds, and stabilizes fractures in a cascading sequence until the mana runs out. Does not work on beasts, undead, constructs, or summons.

Mana Cost: 1,500

Amazing spell. The price? 380 mithril. I think my wallet actually whimpered.

Burrow and Bite

Launches a small earth elemental that tunnels underground, using mana pulses to locate enemies. Upon reaching a target, it erupts upward in an explosion of stone and teeth. If no enemy is detected within 60 bops, it returns and stores the unused mana.

Mana Cost: 880

100 mithril for a glorified angry dirt ferret.

I risked getting thelook from the seller and found out that a bop was pretty much the same as a second. Maybe a tad shorter, but not by much.

Chrono Echo Loop

Records the caster's current position, physical condition, and immediate surroundings. After 10 bops, the spell can be triggered manually to rewind the caster back to that saved state. If the caster is about to die, the spell will auto-trigger by default unless this feature is disabled.

Mana Cost: 2,000 mana for saving a state. 10,000 mana for auto-trigger (can be stored through continuous channeling).

Warning:

If the caster does not have enough mana to cover the full cost of the auto-trigger, the spell will attempt to make up the difference by draining the caster’s life force. This process is excruciating and can be fatal. Disabling the auto-trigger feature is strongly recommended unless you have enough mana to cover it.

Hands down, one of the best spell marbles I’d ever seen. The price, though—12,000 mithril = 1.2 million gold = over 4 billion dollars.

I stared at the price while my mind stepped out for some air and hyperventilated into a paper bag.

Phantom Duelist

Conjures a semi-autonomous spectral copy of the caster that mirrors physical attacks and dodges, prioritizing melee threats. Fades after taking three direct hits or after 60 bops.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Mana Cost: 1,200

350 mithril.

Sentinel’s Mark

Tags up to three enemies with an invisible brand. The spell tracks their movement for one poten. If they cross within ten forons of the caster again, they receive a sudden burst of mana-disrupting energy.

Mana Cost: 1,050

After anotherfamous look from the seller, I discovered that a poten was about 80-83 minutes, since the bops were a bit shorter. A foron was roughly 780 centimeters—so about 7.8 meters from the caster. The cost? 150 mithril.

Spell Storm

Draws ambient mana from the area to overcharge the caster for 30 bops. During that time, all spells cost half mana, and cast speed doubles. If used again within a poten, backlash deals heavy internal damage.

Mana Cost: 1,300

(Not including the mana cost for spells cast within the 30 bops)

Price: 120 mithril.

At that point, I stopped converting prices to Earth currency for the sake of my sanity, and stopped looking at spell marbles altogether. It just felt safer that way.

Further into the magical section, I found shops selling more “regular” magical items. Things like alarm stickers for windows and doors, or flight harnesses for personal use. I actually considered getting a harness for Rue instead of the flying sword, which I still hadn’t figured out how to make. But a short interrogation of the seller ended that idea quickly. The flight speed was about three meters per second—a sporty mosquito could pass him without too much sweat. Or, as Rue would say, no zoom.

In the magical clothing section, I found an item even my inner squirrel had to admit was worth the price, especially when I remembered the time a Gate dropped us at the South Pole, and the infamous hailstorms in Zindor, also known as the murder balls.

Chameleon Survival Cloak

A high-tier magical cloak designed for survival in extreme environments. When activated, it shields the wearer from harsh environmental hazards, ranging from blistering heat and freezing cold to toxic air and airborne particles that could damage skin or impair movement. It can also shift its color and pattern to blend into the surrounding terrain for stealth purposes.

The duration of each activated function depends on the severity of the conditions. In moderate environments, the effects can last for potens, while extreme conditions will drain the cloak’s magic more quickly.

Even without activation, the cloak offers light passive protection against mild environmental conditions. It keeps the wearer reasonably warm in cool climates, helps regulate body temperature under the sun, and provides basic shielding against gentle wind or light exposure. As long as the conditions are not extreme, the cloak functions as durable and dependable outerwear without mana cost.

Mana Cost:

Cold / Heat Protection: 300

Toxic Environment / Airborne Particles: 500

Camouflage Mode: 250 (lasts 1 poten)

Price: 100 mithril.

Yeah, I squirmed a bit—it was still 10,000 gold. But after a few minutes of internal whining, I bit the bullet and headed to the financier. The shopkeeper here, like Payan, had no interest in a stack of gold coins. Just in case, I avoided converting the price to dollars. Willful ignorance was the best medicine for my mental health.

Rue sat near the entrance of a shop advertising magical items for children’s protection. The place was full of adults, and kids were swarming all over him. My buddy was clearly in heaven, but true to form, the moment he spotted me, he tilted his head and asked, “Lunch?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

We were near the eighth entrance, over a kilometer from the food court. Just looking at the distance gave me an idea. We stepped outside, walked a few meters away, then went back in through the same entrance. Worked like a charm.

Now I just had to figure out how people were entering from these side entrances and not ending up in the food court. I’d seen people appear all along the length of the mall, not just at the front.

During a delicious lunch of grilled meats with an open salad bar—which Rue refused to even look at—I kept turning the money issue over in my head. The prices here had basically devalued my hoard by a few hundred percent, and I needed a solution.

I considered selling them a spell marble with my Harvest Mana Crystal spell. It was a great spell, after all. The problem was that the marbles they sold here were actual marbles. Big ones, about three centimeters across, but still marbles. My spells, even after compressing them with mana, were closer to the size of a tennis ball.

Well, I can always find a use for the spell, even if no one wants to buy it.

Decision made, I headed back to the hotel and got to work right away. Al and Mahya were still nowhere to be found, and Rue had gone off for a well-earned digestive nap. With the peace and quiet, and the number of times I’d created this spell already, it went quickly.

At first, I started crafting the regular version, but after less than five minutes, I caught my mistake, facepalmed, and switched to the upgraded version. By evening, I had the spell marble ready, and the upgraded version even compressed better. It was still about the size of a tennis ball, but now roughly 20 percent smaller than one, instead of 20 percent bigger like before.

I loved progress, and Appraisal made me a happy, happy man.

Harvest Mana Crystal Spell Marble

Value 250 mithril.

I rushed back to the mall, hoping the stores were still open. We had a dungeon run the next day, and I really wanted that cloak.

I found the shop still open, but the seller was already halfway through closing procedures. He squinted at me when I approached, but didn’t stop me. When I pulled out the marble and explained the spell, his polite curiosity turned to open-mouthed shock. He turned it over in his hands, muttering to himself and using various identification skills. His eyes kept losing focus, and every time, the mana around him shifted slightly. I knew about Identify, Appraisal, and Analyze for crafters, but he ran through six or seven different skills, still muttering the entire time.

“You made this?” he finally asked.

“Yes.”

“It is… not listed in any catalog. But…” He held the marble up beside one of his. “Too big. This will not fit into standard marble slots.”

We haggled for a few minutes. He tried to shave the price down, and I stuck to my guns. When he found out the spell doesn't level, it was his way in to lowering the price. With a heavy sigh, we finally settled on 200 mithril. Not bad for my first spell sale, if I could say so myself. I almost dusted off my shoulders, but stopped myself. Still, I dusted them mentally.

“If you can create this in standard size and make it level,” he said, handing me the mithril coins, “I will pay full price, minus a five percent commission.”

I was already halfway out the door before he finished the sentence. I sprinted back to the clothing section like my boots had wings. Ten minutes later, I walked out with the Chameleon Survival Cloak clutched to my chest, grinning like I’d just robbed the place. Best trade I’d made all year.

I felt Mahya somewhere in the mall and followed the pull, weaving through the crowds until I spotted her near a row of glowing storefronts. The second I saw her, my gut clenched. She marched forward like she was hunting someone, hands balled into fists, her jaw tight, and murder in her eyes.

I quickened my pace to catch up. “What happened? You look like you’re about to dismantle someone with a spoon.”

She shot me a glare, her stride never slowing. “Why are you grinning like a loon?”

“I asked first.”

She growled under her breath and nearly shoulder-checked a signboard.

“Come on,” I coaxed, nudging her arm. “Tell me what happened, then I’ll tell you mine. Maybe it'll make you feel better.”

She let out a long, loud sigh and slumped a little as she walked. “Those idiots at the Magitech Guild refused to even listen to me. And on top of that, they tried to claim I had no right to our blueprint. Can you imagine the nerve?”

Her voice rose, and her hands started moving as she spoke, slicing the air like she was reenacting the argument.

“They tried to tell me I couldn't have my own shit! I couldn’t believe it. If they don’t want to trade, fine. That’s their right. But they actually tried to confiscate the blueprint, saying I didn’t have the right to possess it. I explained that my class gives me automatic guild affiliation and access to the trading boards, but the three bullies I got stuck with refused to believe me. They wouldn’t even Identify me!”

She stomped forward and almost plowed into a couple walking hand in hand. I reached out and grabbed her shoulder, steering her to the side before we caused a scene.

“They just wanted to steal it. So I switched my class to Bladedancer, pulled out my sword, and bellowed at them to identify me. They practically jumped out of their pants. Still, even after that, they had the gall to accuse me of lying about the Magicaneer class.”

Her mouth twisted into something that was probably meant to be a smile but came out more like a baring of teeth. “Idiots. I didn’t even bother to correct them after that.”

She turned to me fully, eyes gleaming. “I think we need an acquisition mission.”

“Forget it,” I said, holding up both hands. “I’m not robbing every asshole in existence just because they ticked one of us.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You did so far.”

“I’m stopping the trend now.”

She snatched a brochure off a nearby display and smacked it against my chest.

I nudged her back with a scowl. “Hey, don’t take your rage out on me. We’ve got a dungeon run tomorrow. Save it for the monsters.”

She opened her mouth like she was going to argue, then closed it with a click and lowered her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just wanted to work on it in the dungeon. If it needs more than one core, or if combining cores is the way to go, the dungeon’s the best place to do it. No spies.”

“Work in the dungeon? What about the monsters?”

She waved me off. “All of them have safe zones.”

I squinted at her. “You lost me.”

Mahya stopped mid-stride and turned to face me. “You’ve never visited a dungeon in a high mana world, so just know they’re different.”

“Different how?”

She smirked and resumed walking, the frustration from earlier melting away. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise. I love it when you complain about how it doesn’t make any sense.”

She glanced back at me with a cheeky grin, her steps lighter now, practically bouncing. “So, why were you grinning like a loon earlier?”

“I sold a spell marble for 200 mithril.” I grinned back, unable to help it. “Oh, and by the way—they’ve got a spell marble that’s similar to Mana Shield, but not quite. I’m pretty sure it’s different enough that the Guidance won’t block you from learning it. Bit pricey, but worth it. If you need help covering the cost, I can chip in.”

She threw her arms around me without warning, nearly knocking the breath out of my lungs. “Congrats! And how much is pricey?”

“One hundred mithril.”

She made a strangled choking sound.

“Yeah,” I said, matching her expression with a commiserating nod. “That was my reaction too.”

She brightened. “If I sell some wands and staves, it should cover it. I mean, I’ve got 10,000 gold, so I can afford it, but I know that in a world with saner prices, I’m going to regret it big time.”

“Yeah, selling’s a good idea.”

We walked the rest of the way in silence. I focused on figuring out how to shrink my spell marbles further. Judging by the way Mahya’s fist clenched every few steps, she was probably fantasizing about punching those pricks at the guild.

To each their own.