While Ashwin sat serene at the Lotus King's table, sipping tea like some sage in a painting, I was practically skipping down the palace steps with Felicity at my side. With my mind on my spirit ring and the vast treasures it contained.
"Why are you smiling like that?" Felicity asked, her raven hair and braid swaying as she trotted to keep up.
"Because," I said, "today's the day I level up my Ninja Gear."
I plunged my consciousness into the Philosophers Stone, pushing deeper, past the plants and herbs section, past the mechanism section all the way to the gear and armor tomes. The second floor unfolded like a blacksmith's dream: anvils that shimmered with starlight, racks of spectral armor, phantom blueprints sketched across the air. My mind locked onto one of them, pulsing faintly with recognition.
Dark Gear.
It looked like my old Ninja Gear, but denser—layered like shadow-forged scale, with runes glowing faintly along the seams. I could feel it in the blueprint: same stealth, same silence, but a spine of defense that could shrug off blades. The Dark Gear also possessed a natural ward against darkness element attacks. Exactly what I'd need when facing cultivators like Vaylen or Dimitri.
But the recipe was clear: Dark Stones. Not just any old obsidian junk, but refined elemental minerals that pulsed with abyssal qi. Without them, the evolution couldn't take form.
"Stones," I muttered aloud. "I'll need stones. Dark Stones."
Felicity tilted her head. "Is this like when you dragged me across two provinces looking for 'the perfect silk' just to rewrap your shuriken pouches?"
"You must be thinking of a previous master" I said, eyes shining. "This is the difference between sneaking into a fortress naked and sneaking into a fortress wearing a fortress."
She snorted, but I caught the faint curve of her lips. "Well, if you're shopping, I'm shopping. Fanghua has the best apothecaries in the continent. Let's split the bill."
I tightened the straps on my chest, excitement buzzing through me. Ashwin could play Solomon with kings and queens all morning long. I had my own kingdom to build—one hammer strike at a time.
The streets of Fanghua pulsed like a living vein. Stalls spilled out onto every corner, their awnings dyed with bright silks, their counters piled high with everything from glimmering beast cores to jars of suspiciously wriggling powders. Incense smoke tangled with the scent of roasting spirit-meat skewers, and the cries of vendors rose and fell like a chorus.
I was in heaven.
"Focus," Felicity muttered, tugging my sleeve as I tried to veer toward a stall selling glassy mushrooms that hummed when tapped. "We're here for Dark Stones, not whatever's going to turn your tongue purple for three days."
"I can multitask," I said, reaching for one. The vendor winked. "Guaranteed to make your voice sound like a thousand monks chanting in harmony."
Felicity yanked me back by the collar before I could buy it.
We pressed deeper into the market, weaving past a merchant hawking bottled lightning, shouting "Fresh from a storm dragon's breath!" and a tinkerer selling clockwork-crabs that pinched anyone who tried to haggle too low. One particularly old vendor waved a feather fan at us, croaking, "Immortal radishes! Eat one, skip five years of cultivation pain!"
"Why do I feel like everything here comes with a side effect no one mentions?" Felicity whispered.
"Because it does," I said cheerfully.
Finally, tucked between a rune-engraving stall and a cart full of singing gourds, I spotted it: a modest stonecutter's booth. The counter was piled with crystals and minerals in every hue. In the middle of it all sat a box of jagged, matte-black stones that seemed to drink in the light. My breath hitched.
"Dark Stones," I murmured.
The stall-keeper, a squat man with a single gemstone embedded in his forehead, leaned forward eagerly. "Ahh, young master knows his materials. Rare stock. Straight from the Abyssal Trench."
Felicity squinted. "They look...dull."
"Dull?" I pressed my hand to one and felt its heavy thrum, like a drumbeat in my bones. "Felicity, this is the dull that makes your enemies wish they were dead."
The vendor cleared his throat. "Of course, they are not cheap…"
I smiled, "Neither am I. Care to strike a deal?"
The bargaining began—spirits high, qi flaring slightly as words danced like blades. Felicity crossed her arms, rolling her eyes at both of us. But I noticed, every so often, her gaze flicked to a case of glimmering silver vials labeled Moon Dew Nectar.
"Oh no," I said under my breath. "She's plotting."
The market swirled with voices and laughter, and I knew by the time we left, both of us would be carrying far more than we'd planned.
The vendor spread his arms dramatically over the box of Dark Stones.
"Five hundred gold coins, per piece. A once-in-a-lifetime chance!"
But I could taste deception with my Embercoil tongue. The air itself soured against my palate, tinged with sweat-salt and cheap ink.
I leaned on the counter, smirking. "Five hundred gold? For rocks that look like they came out of your backyard fire pit? Why not try selling daylight to the sun itself."
The man puffed his cheeks, scandalized. "Young master wounds me! These were pulled from the Abyssal Trench by divers who cannot speak of what they saw! Their silence alone is priceless!"
I flicked my tongue against the air. Still deception—thick, sticky, undeniable. Besides, I could see the chisel marks on the stones, neat little wedges where a pickaxe had bitten. Not an ocean relic—just a land vein dressed up with salt and myth.
"Or," I said flatly, "you made up a fancy story. And you simply know where to mine them."
His heart skipped, stuttering like a drum out of beat. The taste of it spilled across my tongue—panic, sour like old vinegar. The man clutched his gemstone forehead as if I'd skewered him through the soul. "Such cruelty! Such—such sacrilege!"
"Three hundred fifty gold a piece," I intoned.
"Impossible! I'd sooner feed them to my goats!"
"Two hundred fifty," I shot back, voice like a hammer. "And every time you turn me down, my next offer gets lower. Agree right now, and I'll throw in a signed autograph."
The vendor blinked. "...Who are you again?"
Behind the man, Felicity stifled a laugh with her hand. I glanced at her quickly, catching her crouched over a nearby shelf. She wasn't looking at the Dark Stones at all—no, her fingers were already dancing around the neat row of silver vials labeled Moon Dew Nectar, sliding one, two, three into the box of Dark Stones I was haggling for.
I didn't miss it. I also didn't say a word. I cleared my throat loudly to cover her. The vendor stroked his chin, weighing it. I pressed forward before he could back out.
"Alright, fine. 250 gold coins AND if you include one of those, uh, side trinkets to sweeten the deal, I'll tell everyone in Fanghua that your stall is the only place worth buying from. Free advertisement."
The vendor squinted. "What side trin—?"
Felicity straightened smoothly, hands behind her back, a silver smile on her lips. "He means these," she said sweetly, plucking one of the Moon Dew vials off the shelf and twirling it between her fingers. "Hardly worth anything to a grand merchant such as yourself, right? Toss them in as goodwill. A gentleman's gesture."
The vendor hesitated, bead of sweat rolling down his temple. His gemstone flickered nervously. "Two hundred fifty… and—perhaps… perhaps a… gentleman's bundle, yes?"
"Bundle deal," I agreed immediately, snapping the words before he could retract.
His gemstone flickered faintly, betraying temptation. "Mmm… very well! A bundle deal! But only because I sense the future greatness in you, young master."
I slapped the counter, triumphant. "Ha! Done." I swept the box of stones and pilfered trinkets into my storage ring, Felicity leaned close, her whisper curling like smoke into my ear. "You're welcome." My tongue savoring the faint tang of victory. Felicity slipped the Nectar into her sleeve with a sly smile. As we walked away, she murmured,"Thats what we call sweetening the pot."
I gave her a look. "One day that sticky-finger habit of yours is going to get us both hanged."
"Please," she whispered back, smug as a cat with cream. "I was grafting loot before you were a gleam in your great ancestors' eyes, a hummingbird couldn't catch me at work."
"You owe me," I muttered back.
"For what?" she teased, tucking one of the Moon Dew vials into her sash. "All you did was argue. I'm the reason you got dessert with your meal."
The vendor beamed, oblivious, upholding our end of the bargain Felicity began shouting at passersby: "Hero Ash buys only from Oolong! The Dark Stone vendor of destiny! Half-price bundles, only today!"
"Did you hear? Lord Ash himself bought from that stall!" whispered a woman clutching a parasol. "It must mean those stones are blessed by fate!"
I groaned. "What have you done?"
"Given you a fan club," Felicity said with a grin.
I flicked my tongue once more tasting Felicity sweat and breath, I detected notes of nectar-sugar and guilt.
I sighed. "One day, little fox."
She only grinned wider. "That's what makes it fun."