Chapter 34: FRIH - 34
Ronan nodded.
"Magical tools are profitable; no wonder those bandits tried to rob us. Even if you don't use them, selling them would support your village for millennia. How do we test their abilities? Frieren, can you do it?"
His words hung in the air, quiet but firm, as he surveyed the spread of magical artifacts before them. Sunlight streamed in from the high window, slanting across the array of items like a golden veil. Each tool—some glinting with metallic sheen, others dulled with age—carried the weight of mystery and potential. The room itself, lined with aged wooden beams and stone walls, was silent save for the distant sounds of horses in the city courtyard and the faint ticking of a wall-mounted clock enchanted to never wind down.
Frieren hesitated, then shook her head.
"I can't, but the elder can. Should we go back? Six thousand three hundred gold coins... I'm worried..."
Her voice trailed off as her eyes lingered on the neatly packed satchels, each heavy with history and magic. The number itself—six thousand three hundred—echoed in her mind like a warning bell. That sum could feed her village for generations, could fund fortifications, repairs, education, and tools. She chewed the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit, and glanced at Ronan. Beneath her calm exterior, a storm of responsibility churned.
"Don't worry. No one will dare touch us. As for going back..."
Ronan looked outside.
He stepped toward the window, folding his arms as he gazed over the cobblestone streets below. The early morning light bathed the city in a warm amber hue. Market stalls were just beginning to open, their awnings being unfurled, merchants yawning and stretching as they set up for the day. The aroma of fresh bread and roasting chestnuts drifted faintly through the air, mingling with the sharper scents of horses and stone.