After a quick lunch—barely more than a few bites—Lucas cleaned up, grabbed his wallet and keys, and headed back out.
His destination: The Retailer, a massive two-story adventurer's supply store on the northwest corner of Adventurer's Avenue.
The place had a spotless reputation in Orario's adventurer circles. Aside from not taking custom orders, it basically sold everything under the sun.
Through the wide glass windows, Lucas could already see the crowd inside—packed wall-to-wall like a fantasy-world supermarket.
Everything on the shelves catered to adventurers.
From basic items like Magic Stone lamps and bug repellent powder, to high-grade accessories and enchanted charms. Even household goods and daily necessities filled the aisles.
In the premium section, displays showcased weapons and armor crafted by the Hephaestus Familia and Goibniu Familia.
Lucas instinctively patted his thin wallet, exhaled slowly, and pushed the door open.
"Welcome to The Retailer! How may I help you today?"
A neatly dressed clerk approached with a perfect professional smile.
"Just browsing," Lucas replied with a polite nod.
"Of course, take your time." The clerk bowed slightly and stepped back.
The first floor was a paradise of goods—an overwhelming variety of items in every shape and function.
Since he was already here, Lucas wandered the aisles without much of a plan, letting curiosity lead him. Magic Stone tools, potions, furniture, and trinkets filled his view, dazzling him with options.
To his left, a refrigerated display case caught his eye—it housed branded goods like Demeter's Produce and Njord's Seafood, premium products from elite Familias.
"Figures," he thought, half-amused. "The commercial giants of Orario really don't miss a beat."
After browsing the first floor, he headed upstairs.
Eventually, in a small accessories shop on the second floor, something caught his eye—a pair of golden wheat-shaped earrings, beautifully crafted.
He hesitated. Then winced. Then sighed.
Twelve thousand Valis later, he walked out clutching a dainty little box, face twisted in pain.
"So damn expensive. Twelve thousand for regular earrings?" he muttered, heart bleeding. "Side businesses really are where the money's at. Maybe it's time I put Hand of Omnipotence to work and start one."
He paused, then shook his head. "Not yet. Gotta get through my growth phase first."
Leaving The Retailer, he moved east through the familiar streets, from the Seventh District toward the First.
--
The First District—home to Orario's wealthiest neighborhoods and luxury establishments.
The city's finest tailor, Lafalt, stood there.
Even the Justice Familia's headquarters, Cour trees, private gardens, hidden paths—beautiful and serene. Between the branches, you could glimpse graceful, nature-blended architecture that looked almot of Stars, and the Demeter Familia's estate, House of Wheat, were nestled in this district's leafy calm.
Greenery dominated the landscape. Ornamentalst alive.
Following one of those paths to its end, Lucas stopped before a grand, golden manor.
The sprawling estate radiated abundance. Carvings of wheat and grain adorned the walls; vines and fruit trees lined the fences, while berry bushes formed the hedges. Even the air smelled faintly sweet.
This was the Wheat Manor—the headquarters of the Demeter Familia, one of Orario's wealthiest and most influential powers.
And this wasn't even her only estate. Demeter owned several across and beyond the city, each distinct in design and luxury—a testament to her divine wealth.
"Ah~ isn't that our little Lucas?"
A soft, melodious voice drifted from beneath a grape arbor.
A woman stepped into view—a breathtaking goddess in a wide-brimmed straw hat and a flowing orange dress edged with lace.
Honey-colored hair shimmered like sunlight beneath her hat, and when her amber eyes landed on Lucas, they sparkled with joy. A smile bloomed across her flawless face, bright enough to shame the flowers around her.
Then, with theatrical flair, her expression morphed into a teary pout. Shoulders trembling, she even dabbed at imaginary tears.
"Boohoo… my sweet Lucas, it's been so long! You've forgotten all about me, haven't you? So cruel! So heartless!"
Lucas's eye twitched.
A quick glance at the snickering Familia members nearby made him sigh through his nose.
"Lady Demeter," he said flatly, "your acting needs serious work. Way too over the top."
The goddess froze mid-sniffle, then dropped the act instantly. Not a trace of sorrow left on her face.
"Oh?" she tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. "And here I thought I'd gotten better. Guess my favorite mortal critic still isn't impressed."
Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd long since learned to be wary of this goddess. Charming, yes—but dangerously good at flustering him.
Still, he owed her more than he could ever repay.
"Lucas, it's been a while."
A gentle, familiar voice interrupted.
A young woman with golden hair braided neatly down her back approached and opened the gate.
"Persephone," Lucas greeted with a smile. "Yeah, it's been some time."
He lifted his bandaged left arm. "Had a little accident. Nothing major—you know how adventurers are."
"Monster attack, then?" she guessed, eyes soft with understanding.
"Something like that."
She nodded. "The fields aren't too busy this season, so I stayed behind to help take care of Lady Demeter."
"Right, that makes sense—"
"Lucas!" Demeter called from under the vines, waving him over. "Quit standing around and come taste these grapes I grew myself!"
He chuckled and walked over.
The grapes she handed him were round and full, like polished amethysts. Dew glistened on their skins, sunlight making them look almost translucent.
He plucked one, popped it into his mouth—and nearly groaned.
Sweet, clean, perfectly balanced with a hint of tartness. Juice burst across his tongue like liquid sunshine. Every bit of fatigue from the day evaporated.
"This is incredible," he said, eyes wide. "It literally tastes like sunshine. I feel… purified."
He grinned. "As expected of the goddess of harvest herself. I've never had grapes this good in my life."
"Hehe~"
Persephone puffed out her chest proudly. "Of course! Grapes grown by Lady Demeter herself are treasures even other gods can't buy. You'll never find them sold anywhere."
Lucas blinked. "Wait, really? What happens to the extra harvest? You can't possibly eat them all."
She smiled mysteriously. "They're used to brew divine wine! The kind served only at Godly Banquets or auctioned at top-tier events."
"Ah. That explains it."
He could easily imagine each bottle fetching hundreds of thousands of Valis. Demeter's wealth truly was bottomless.
After enjoying the rare treat, they moved to the reception room inside the Wheat Manor.
Demeter personally inspected his injured arm, sighing in relief when she saw it wasn't serious. Still, her tone softened with motherly worry.
"Be careful down there, Lucas. The Dungeon is no place to get careless. You were lucky this time."
"I understand, Lady Demeter," he said sincerely.
Her gaze softened, then she leaned back on the sofa with lazy grace—before suddenly curling against his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Her warm breath brushed his ear.
"Now then~" she purred, "you didn't come all this way just to flatter me, did you? What's the real reason, hm?"
Her teasing voice carried that dangerous mix of playfulness and intimacy.
Lucas froze, acutely aware of the goddess pressed against him—and the icy glare from Persephone across the room.
He coughed hard, sitting bolt upright and peeling away just enough to regain composure.
"Ehem. You're right, Lady Demeter. I did come to ask a favor."
He paused, then said carefully, "Do you happen to know any skilled magicians—or anyone reliable who could craft a custom staff?"
"A staff?"
Demeter exchanged a look with Persephone, both equally surprised.
"Wait—don't tell me you've learned combat Magic?" she said, eyes widening. "That would mean your third spell slot finally—ohhh. It's your third one, isn't it?"
They both knew his Status.
After all, on paper, Lucas was officially a member of the Demeter Familia, registered that way with the Guild.
Even the small home he lived in now was hers—a gift he could never truly repay.
And now, once again, he'd come knocking on her golden door for help.