Return of the Woodcutter

Aito bought a few more goods from Roan, ranging from food to a new set of clothes. In his backpack, the merchant had more goods than it appeared at first glance.

So much, in fact, Aito thought the merchant's Inventory bag was bottomless. Although he could have walked around the different districts to buy what he needed, Aito was too tired to make the trip and choose to purchase from Roan.

The latter cheerfully accepted the transactions before leading Aito towards today's last stop, where an answer about his shiny rock's origin could probably be found.

Aito walked by a remote corner of the bazaar district where a few challengers turned beggar roamed the streets. Some of them, appearing semi-conscious, laid down on the ground. Glass bottles filled with green liquid in their hands.

Life in the Tower wasn't necessarily easy. If one couldn't provide for oneself, only misery awaited. Most revived humans on Earth had lived a fairly comfortable life because of the abundance of resources. However, once taken out of their comfort zone, they would either rise or fall.

With humanity's potential to adapt, a great majority of the challengers managed to make a living. Day by day they would struggle to collect as many TP as possible. Equipment, food, lodgings, and other services weren't free in the Tower.

Aito learned along the way that he would be deducted 500TP for every "Cooldown period" spent in his room. It was apparently expensive because of the perks it offered. Apart from the accommodations, sleeping one "night" in that room would make him entirely recover his stamina, and mana, on top of healing his injuries. Pretty much like the nights spent on the island, but better.

However, white, blue, and red challengers didn't necessarily benefit from such favorable treatment. Smaller rooms, fewer recovery effects, fewer amenities. Taking into consideration that most of them hadn't received as high a reward as he did, they sometimes wouldn't be able to afford to pass their Cooldown periods in a room.

Some of them went mad or depressed. Mental instability, hopelessness, lack of motivation, weakness, had turned a few people into a shadow of what they used to be.

Seeing his past self in these beggars, Aito glanced sideways. Not because he despised them, but because he understood them too well. He knew how hard their current psychological situation was, and what that bottle they all carried did to them. Although he didn't know what kind of drug it was, he could guess it wasn't soda.

"We call it Fog," Roan said, walking next to him. "A beverage made of Brum leaves. It's basically alcohol. It relieves stress but renders you incapable of thinking clearly because of some other shady components inside. Very nasty. I prefer to smoke the actual leaves. More enjoyable. And it doesn't leave you in such a decrepit state. But harder to find since all of them are requisitioned by the churches, aka military."

"Nobody is willing to help them?" Aito asked, even if he already knew the answer too well. He had been in their shoes, so he couldn't help but want to help them in a way. Even if… it was hopeless.

"Soft-hearted, hun?" Roan replied, "Let me tell you something. Only the strong survive here and in Iris. Only the strong. If they cannot adapt to this place, they won't be able to handle the horrors they are destined to fight because of their Oath Pacts with the gods."

Meaning, if they wanted to live, they could only count on themselves. No one would help them. Others were already too busy caring for their own asses.

"Such is their fate," Roan added, his face turning somber. "There will be no end to their torment. Even after death."

Even after death? Aito wondered what he meant. Wouldn't they be freed from their duty after dying?

"Unless a new legend arises from within the ashes of war," Roan added, smirking this time. "A legend, yet to be told."

"The fuck are you on about?" Aito sent him quizzical gazes. "Did you smoke too much of those Brum leaves?"

"Hahaha! I'm often asked that question." Roan said, before turning his attention elsewhere. "Ah! There is the Atelier, we've finally arrived."

Settled by a wall, a peculiar stall offered leather armors, funny-looking magical items, and weapons for purchase. The items were neatly stored in racks or shelves. A bulky 1.40 meters humanoid figure stood by the counter. His grey rock-like skin reflecting the fake sun's light.

"Ainar! My old friend!" Roan said with open arms. "How are you doing, my rocky fellow!?"

Ainar's flat rocky forehead furrowed slightly, creating fissure-like lines on his face. He left his counter and furiously walked towards Roan.

"Oooh, are you that eager to greet me? Haha—urg!" Roan said, interrupted by a punch in the stomach. "That… wasn't… a greeting."

"What did you expect!?" Ainar said, with an unsurprisingly low, rocky tone. "You red pebble owe me 10000 TP!"

Surprisingly, Roan quickly recovered from the previous blow and fled behind Aito, using him as a shield.

"I have them! I'll be able to repay you today! That's a Roan guaranteed!"

"Shut your trap! How many times did I endure that freaking line of yours! Your 'guarantees' are worth nothing more than human shit!" Ainar said, before turning his two big round grey eyes towards Aito. "And who's that? Another of your idiot customers?"

"I'm Aito Wal—" Aito tried to say.

Ainar interrupted him. "I wasn't talking to you, boy."

Boy? Aito knew he hadn't grey hair, but 25 years old could be considered old enough to be addressed as a full-fledged adult. At the very least "young man" but not "boy."

"Don't be so rude to your potential best client. He's the black challenger." Roan said, smirking. "And he has something that will pique your interest. That's a Roan guaranteed!"

Ainar's flat nose twitched, tired of hearing that stupid line. Then his gaze switched from Roan to Aito and studied him. His focus passed by Aito's leather armor, weapon, and Inventory bag. Then it traveled to his long black hair, full beard, and black eyes filled with fatigue but also… something else. A spark that might soon turn into a flame.

He then grunted and walked back behind his counter.

"First time seeing a Minerian, hun?" Roan said, patting Aito's broad shoulder. "Don't mind his grumpiness. He's a kind fellow at heart. Go and show him what you've got." Roan said, inviting him to take out his Ancient Shard.

Aito sighed. He didn't know what to think about all that. Tired and desiring nothing but rest, he turned a blind eye to the Minerian's rudeness. Aito walked to the stall and tried to bring out the shiny rock from his pouch. But instead, a viking arm guard appeared in his hand.

"What?" He said, turning towards Roan in search of an answer.

"Well… you see," Roan said. "Inventory bags can store items, but the one you'll pick up won't necessarily be what you're looking for. Which is kind of logical if you think about it since inside the storage space, it's a real....hum, mayhem."

Ainar snorted mockingly. "So he really is a newbie."

Aito granted, ignored the comment, and searched for his Ancient Shard. The counter was stuffed with his tattered viking armor set when the desired item finally showed up.

The Minerian pushed aside the pieces of armor like they were crap, grabbed Aito's shiny rock, and gently settled it on the counter.

"Do you happen to know what that is?" Aito asked, but no answer came his way.

Ainar was too immersed in his reflection to respond. He examined the rock using various methods. Poking it on different sides. Smelling the mineral. Even tasting it using his rough-looking tongue.

Aito sent Roan an interrogative glare.

"That may seem idiotic." Roan said, "However, I assure you that in reality, it's very professional, but also very rare for him to use those techniques.. Usually, only a single glance is enough."