Damian entered the Magic Shop with Roland and the four Valkyries following closely behind him.

The dazzling displays continued deeper into the establishment, filling three large floors connected by floating staircases.

Crystalline lights drifted near the ceiling, illuminating enchanted goods without producing any heat, while translucent barriers protected the more valuable items from curious hands.

Despite the obvious wealth surrounding them, there was no shopkeeper waiting to greet the group.

Instead, Damian soon found her asleep behind the counter.

The young woman appeared around the same age as the four ladies, though her exhausted condition made it difficult to judge precisely.

Deep bags rested beneath a pair of half-visible green eyes, while her hair had exploded into such a disorganized frazzle that it resembled a bush struck repeatedly by lightning.

Loose black Mage robes hung from her body without a single decoration. They were as plain as a nun’s attire and several sizes too large, swallowing her figure beneath layers of dark fabric.

Her face rested upon a stack of neatly arranged research papers as a thin line of drool escaped the corner of her mouth.

"...reverse the fourth rotational sequence... no, no, the mana loss exceeds twelve percent... substitute powdered basilisk lens with... compressed ocular essence..." the sleeping woman mumbled.

Damian paused.

Thanks to <Arcane Knowledge>, he recognized that she was attempting to stabilize some form of advanced divination formula by replacing an expensive magical material with a more concentrated substitute.

That was the extent of what he understood, which was perhaps twenty percent of the whole thing.

The rest sounded like a mathematician, physicist and lunatic sharing the same mouth.

Judging from everyone else’s expressions, they understood even less.

Roland stared at the sleeping woman for several moments before taking a step toward the counter, but Janet’s eyes suddenly gleamed.

The halfling grinned, motioned for Damian to follow and bounded forward before Roland could intervene.

Damian followed with furrowed brows. He was not particularly interested in whatever Janet planned to do.

Rather, he wanted to remain close enough to prevent her from going too far.

In the short time Damian had known the halfling, his opinion of her could be simplified into a single word.

Troublesome!

Janet crept toward the sleeping Mage with exaggerated care, placing one foot before the other while holding her arms out for balance.

She reached the counter and glanced toward the research papers beneath the woman’s cheek.

Several other documents had been stacked neatly beside them, covered in formulas, diagrams and handwritten notes.

Janet extended one grimy hand toward the uppermost page, and her fingers were less than an inch away when the sleeping woman’s arm shot forward like a released arrow.

Her hand closed around Janet’s wrist, which made the mischievous halfling freeze on the spot, but the Mage remained asleep.

Janet attempted to pull away, but the pale hand gripping her possessed the strength of an iron clamp.

She rolled her eyes rather than panicking, leaned closer and inhaled deeply.

"OPHELIA!" Janet bellowed directly into the sleeping woman’s ear.

The one called Ophelia shuffled slightly, her cheek moving from one research paper to another, leaving a small wet mark behind, but she did not wake.

Janet’s free hand slowly rose, and Damian suspected she intended to either pinch the Mage’s nose or pull her hair.

Before she could attempt anything worse, Roland approached and lightly pressed the brass bell sitting on the counter.

Ding!

A clear chime spread through the shop.

Damian sensed a pulse of mana travel from the bell, across the counter and directly into the sleeping woman’s mind.

Ophelia slowly sat upright, her listless green eyes opened halfway as she looked around in confusion, a sheet of research paper still stuck to her cheek.

"Rise and shine, Ophelia. You have some customers here hoping to make some outfitting requests," Roland greeted in a genial tone.

"Uhh... huh? Okay?" Ophelia muttered drowsily.

She removed the paper from her face, examined the damp corner with a brief look of regret and folded it carefully before placing it aside.

Afterward, she withdrew a clean pink handkerchief from somewhere within her robes, wiped her mouth and rose from the counter.

Ophelia took several steps before noticing the extra weight hanging from one arm.

She looked down and saw Janet staring back at her without amusement.

"Oh... it’s Janet. Why are you holding onto me?" Ophelia asked with lazy confusion.

"It’s not me who is holding you! You’re the one holding me!" Janet shouted, pointing furiously toward the hand still wrapped around her wrist.

Ophelia followed the direction of her finger.

"Oh."

She released Janet.

"Sorry," Ophelia apologized in a listless tone.

Janet rubbed her wrist and muttered several dark promises beneath her breath, but Ophelia had already forgotten about her.

She turned toward Roland, yawned and pushed several wild strands of green hair away from her face.

"Okay, Mr. Hammond, who is the client?" Ophelia asked.

Roland placed one enormous hand upon Damian’s shoulder, to which Damian felt as though someone had dropped a table onto him... again.

"Our Otherworldly young man is here to claim his Pantheon benefits. Outfit him with a complete set of basic Mage gear, will you?" Roland requested cheerfully.

Ophelia blinked, her sleepy eyes widening almost comically.

"An Otherworlder? Here... in Rosewood?!" Ophelia exclaimed.

The exhaustion vanished from her body immediately as she shot forward with such speed that Damian barely saw her move, but Julia and Paulina stepped between them at the same moment.

Julia stretched one arm protectively before Ophelia, as though preventing the strange Mage from approaching a dangerous animal.

Paulina stood before Damian with her claws partly extended, evidently protecting him from Ophelia.

For several seconds, neither side appeared certain who was being saved from whom.

"Move aside. I only need to examine him, take several blood samples, measure his mana response, inspect his soul frequency and perhaps perform a harmless cranial opening," Ophelia declared rapidly.

"No," Paulina rejected without hesitation.

"Absolutely not," Julia added coldly.

"The cranial opening would be extremely small," Ophelia argued.

"No," Paulina repeated.

Roland placed two fingers against Ophelia’s forehead and pushed her backward.

"Control yourself, lass. Damian is a customer, not a research specimen," the Guildmaster reminded her.

Ophelia regained her balance and slowly returned to her listless state.

"Fine. Customers usually pay better than specimens anyway," she muttered.

Damian decided not to ask how many specimens she had acquired.

Ophelia returned behind the counter and produced a slate similar to Roland’s teaching device.

"Basic Pantheon package for a Mage Otherworlder, huh? It’s all common-grade equipment only, but the full package is generous," she murmured while scrolling through several records.

The shopkeeper raised her head and explained. "Magic items are separated into six broad grades: Common, Uncommon, Rare, Epic, Legendary and Divine. They loosely correspond to the Novice, Journeyman, Adept, Master, Legend and Divine levels, though equipment is more complicated than people."

A Common item was suitable for Novices, while Uncommon goods served Journeymen. Rare equipment could remain useful to Adepts, and Epic goods belonged within the realm of Masters.

Legendary equipment was designed for beings who had crossed into the Legend levels, though the enormous differences between Grandmasters, Supremes and Demigods meant that Legendary items possessed several internal divisions.

And finally, Divine items stood beyond all of them.

Damian listened carefully, because on Earth, anything enchanted would have been priceless.

But here, an object capable of manipulating supernatural forces could be sold as beginner equipment!

"The Pantheon package gives you one Common Magic Robe, one Common wand or staff, two Common enchanted rings, one Common enchanted amulet, one Spellbook and either a Common dagger or shortsword," Ophelia listed.

Silence followed.

Janet’s expression became blank, Paulina’s tail stiffened, Julia slowly closed her eyes, perhaps hoping that the world would become fair when she opened them again, and Eunice merely placed one hand over her chest and began breathing carefully.

Damian looked toward Roland.

"Is all of that truly free?" Damian asked in disbelief.

"Completely free indeed. Try not to say it too loudly, or Little Paulina may relapse," Roland confirmed with a chuckle.

"I heard that!" Paulina growled.

Ophelia began with the robes.

She led Damian toward a section containing dozens of Common outfits designed for different magical disciplines. Some resisted heat or cold, while others improved mana sensitivity, protected against stains or reinforced the fabric against physical damage.

Damian eventually selected a black Apprentice’s Arcane Robe with dark gold edging that was durable, self-cleaning and capable of improving the stability of simple spells by conducting mana along several hidden channels.

For his weapon, he chose a staff rather than a wand.

Wands were compact and easier to conceal, but staves offered greater casting stability and could also provide limited support if he needed to walk across difficult terrain.

Ophelia recommended a blackwood staff capped with a small blue crystal, which possessed no offensive enchantment but reduced minor errors when directing ambient mana.

The rings created a more difficult choice.

Damian selected a Ring of Minor Mental Recovery, which slightly accelerated the restoration of Mental Energy, and a Ring of Lesser Protection that created a thin defensive layer against weak physical impacts.

For his amulet, he chose an Amulet of Cleansing, which could purify small amounts of water, resist ordinary poisons and reduce the risk of illness caused by contaminated food.

Considering his future journey into Shengyuan, Damian valued practical survival more than decoration.

The Spellbook required further thought, however, because unlike ordinary equipment, Spellbooks possessed no fixed grades. Each was a growth-type item capable of developing alongside its owner as new pages, enchantments and functions were added.

Damian eventually requested one with strong preservation, automatic indexing and space for future modifications.

Ophelia walked toward a high shelf near the rear of the shop.

"I should have a suitable blank Spellbook somewhere here. The automatic index model is unpopular because most Novices believe organizing their own spells builds character," Ophelia explained as she began rummaging through several boxes.

Her oversized robes shifted around her body, hiding nearly everything beneath their loose folds.

Suddenly, Janet approached from behind, and Damian noticed her expression too late.

The halfling grabbed the back of Ophelia’s robes and pulled the excess fabric tight.

The effect was immediate.

The shapeless black cloth suddenly outlined a figure so outrageously bountiful that Damian’s mind briefly stopped functioning.

Ophelia’s upper body possessed proportions that bordered upon the unreasonable, while the robes curved dramatically around her hips before clinging to an equally formidable lower half.

There had been no warning nor expectation, as the loose clothing, along with her above-average looks, had concealed everything with the efficiency of an enchanted tent.

Damian’s eyes widened before he sharply turned his face away, feeling his blood begin to flow faster.

Damian was not necessarily a horndog, but he was not a monk either. Despite his difficulties on Earth, there was the occasional young nurse or coworker at the warehouse—or in the offices—who had dragged him onto a date or two, a few of which had a ’happy ending’.

But this... this was simply the kind of thing you expected multimillionaire yacht owners to marry, not a tired-looking woman who slept while drooling.

Luckily, Damian possessed enough self-control not to stare nor have an... ’extreme’... reaction.

"Janet!" Eunice cried, her own face turning crimson as the priestess seized the halfling by one ear and dragged her backward.

"Ow! Ow! I was merely helping everyone appreciate hidden treasure!" Janet protested.

"Pulling a woman’s clothing against her body without permission is not appreciation, it is illicit behavior!" Eunice scolded her.

Paulina studied Ophelia from head to toe, and the wolfgirl slowly raised one thumb.

"Impressive! In my clan, a woman with proportions like yours would be bred day and night!" Paulina praised sincerely.

Eunice nearly released Janet from speechless shock.

Julia remained silent as her gaze moved from Ophelia’s chest to her own, and a brief shadow passed over the elf’s face.

...Complete and utter defeat!

There was no honorable interpretation through which Julia could claim victory in that territory.

Her eyes then lowered, and after another comparison, Julia’s posture subtly straightened.

The upper battle was lost beyond recovery, but in the lower department, she could still put up a respectable fight!

For reasons the young elven ranger could not explain, the realization filled her with pride!

Roland watched the chaos with amusement.

He was an old, happily married man, and these girls were little more than troublesome children in his eyes. Even Ophelia’s absurd figure failed to shake his composure.

Ophelia looked over one shoulder, appearing entirely unbothered by Janet’s actions.

Instead, her half-lidded eyes settled upon Damian’s face, where the young man closed his eyes with an annoyed look and a slight blush on his face.

’Interesting,’ Ophelia thought to herself.

So the Otherworlder had reacted strongly, though he had also looked away rather than openly staring?

Ophelia quietly recorded that information.

Hmm... perhaps her physical assets could be weaponized to secure some... ’private research time’... with Damian.

All she needed was a little closer examination, a few harmless samples and possibly a restrained dimensional scan.

As for the moral and ethical constraints, Ophelia had none.

Research required creativity, patience, bravery and a strong will!

And she, Ophelia, would be the one to leave her name in history as a top Magic Researcher!

Ophelia retrieved the Spellbook and allowed her robes to fall loose again.

"This one should suit you. It possesses automatic indexing, basic page restoration and enough initial capacity for fifty spells up to the Legend level," she explained as though nothing unusual had occurred.

Damian accepted the dark blue book with visible relief.

Finally, he selected a dagger rather than a shortsword as his Strength and Dexterity were both too low for serious melee combat, but a dagger was lightweight, useful as a tool and better than bare hands when magic failed.

Once every choice had been confirmed, Ophelia guided Damian toward a changing room and was forcefully kept outside when she tried to sneak in by the four ladies.

Several minutes later, Damian emerged, and the black-and-gold Mage robe fitted him far better than his torn work clothes or Eunice’s borrowed cloak. Its structured shoulders and clean lines made him appear taller, while the dark coloring contrasted sharply with his blue eyes and brown hair.

The staff rested comfortably in his right hand while the two rings decorated his fingers. The amulet lay beneath his collar, whereas the Spellbook was secured within a leather holder at his hip beside the dagger.

The four ladies couldn’t help but find themselves staring with surprise and interest.

Even Ophelia’s sleep-heavy eyes widened slightly.

Damian had not physically changed, but the clothing revealed what exhaustion, poor grooming and damaged work clothes had concealed.

He was indeed a rather handsome young man, not mind-bogglingly so, but enough to make a good majority of women receptive to his presence.

"Haha! Indeed, it is as they say, the clothes make the man! With some rest and proper food, you’ll have the young ladies of Rosewood causing trouble before long!" Roland declared with approval.

Damian felt his face warm again, because very few had called him handsome on Earth. Like most young men, he took it as a polite compliment rather than truth.

He had spent years looking like exactly what he was, an exhausted laborer surviving from one shift to the next.

Even now, his body remained weak and his face still carried traces of fatigue, yet proper clothing had changed how everyone looked at him.

"Thank you," Damian replied somewhat awkwardly.

Janet grinned and wiggled her brows suggestively, Paulina nodded approvingly, and Julia looked away after realizing she had stared for too long.

Eunice smiled without hiding her honest appreciation.

With the outfitting complete, Roland led the group toward the exit.

Ophelia escorted them to the doors, her gaze remaining fixed upon Damian’s back.

For now, she made no attempt to stop him, because there was no need to rush.

After all, good research required patience...

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