Lone: The Wanderer

Lone stared at the 47 items laying before him, all of different qualities, shapes, sizes, effects, and values.

Some could mask up to 200,000 MP for a couple of days before becoming worthless, some could do the same for 50,000 MP and work for years if properly maintained.

Some had different main purposes like acting as an unreliable treasure hunting tool that could also hide up to 3,000 MP of the wielder's for a few hours before requiring a recharge, while others allowed the user to breathe underwater while camouflaging themselves, including up to 12,000 MP.

All of them were useless to Lone and Sofia. Breena could get some use out of them, sure, but she didn't have nearly enough MP to be a target of interest for someone she couldn't handle.

And she was hardly delving into dungeons that could detect and act on MP, making these tools useless to her also.

"I have no idea how any of these were created..." Lone thought.

At a glance, three, maybe four, were simple metal tools that had been enchanted, but most of the items had been magically forged one way or another and Lone had exactly zero knowledge on that subject.

"Grimsley's a better smith than me. Bet he can help me dismantle some of the duplicates here and figure them out far faster than I could on my own," Lone concluded.

He glanced at Breena who was still sleeping soundly. "You'll be fine for a little while on your own, won't you?"

If she got attacked or hurt in some way while he stepped out for a little bit then the clan would learn to fear more than just human slavers by the day's end for such negligence.

Lone nodded and cracked his neck. He wrote a quick letter for her in case he ended up taking more than just a few minutes. He then applied his Agility and used Survivor's Speed to move so fast it was like he had teleported.

He first went to the Spirit Pavilion's kitchen and fully stocked it. With that done, he rushed out of the pavilion and zoomed across the gorgeous landscape that was the Crimson Foxkin Clan.