"Next… I want demonic crystals," she said casually, like asking for a snack refill.
"...I don't have that."
"All of them," she said bluntly.
"I told you I don't have any," he snapped back instantly.
"Just three, then."
"Just? You call that just... brat, do you think I farm them?" He was getting agitated now. "Even after so much effort, I barely managed to gather fi—"
He paused mid-sentence.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
He slipped.
'Grandpa is not good at lying,' she thought, smirking.
"Ugghh…" he grunted in frustration.
"I'm not giving you that," he declared.
"Hmm?" She tilted her head.
Was he saving them for someone? Maybe for his grandson? She wondered silently. her eyes shifted… a certain image flickered in her mind.
Still, she needed them. Without those crystals, awakening was impossible.
"I'll pay double the price," she said, serious now.
"No."
"Five times."
He paused.
His gaze shifted to her slowly, and she could see the greed flickering behind those aged pupils.
His face was ugly—scarred, old, and hunched slightly to the left as if age and time bent him permanently—but it was the glint in his eyes that betrayed him.
One thing this old man loved, even more than his artifacts, was money.
He was obsessed with it.
"…One. I'll give you just one," he grumbled.
"Three. I can't go any lower than this. And don't negotiate—if you want, I'll even throw in more coin."
He clicked her tongue twice, annoyed.
But in the end, he gave in and tossed her three blood-red crystals, each glowing faintly like burning embers sealed in stone.
With that, she was done. Everything she had come to buy was in her grasp now.
She knew this was the last time—the Demon King would surely take back the Black Card once he saw how recklessly she had spent. But she didn't care. She had bought everything she would need for her growth.
As she slid the new treasures into her ring, satisfaction crept into her expression.
She wasn't awakened yet, but thanks to the glove, she could absorb and manipulate small amounts of mana—just enough to use the ring's storage. That alone was a game-changer.
The old man grumbled under his breath, scribbling numbers and calculations.
It was then—
Her eyes caught something.
It wasn't in the buying section. It was blurry from distance, hanging far on the wall, not displayed like the other goods but just there.
"Hey, Gramps… what's that?" she asked, pointing.
The old man looked up, clearly annoyed that his counting was interrupted.
"What?"
She motioned with her hand again.
He followed her finger, and his face twitched instantly.
Tsk.
Clicking his tongue he looked at her.
"You sure have an eye for things brat"
Rie simply smile..
Looking at her smile his facial muscle twitched more...
She was stubborn… just like him in his youth.
He almost liked her.
Almost.
If only she didn't have such a rotten personality.
"Don't disturb me. I'm calculating," he growled. "And that thing's not for sale."
"Not for sale? Why?" she asked, eyes still locked on the item.
"What do you mean, 'why,' brat? Because I don't want to. That enough of an answer?"
"Fiiine, fine. Why so loud?" she muttered, sticking her pinky into her ear.
The old man's mouth twitched again.
"I get it, you don't want to sell it. But at least let me see it."
He narrowed his eyes, sighing heavily. A moment later, space trembled—and with a pulse of distorted mana, the wall shifted.
The black sword appeared in front of them, floating ever so slightly in the air.
It wasn't overly flashy.
It was matte black, the metal absorbing light instead of reflecting it. It had no ornate patterns, no runes or sigils, and no gemstones in the hilt.
Just a long, jagged blade with subtle curves, and a presence that devoured the room's aura.
"…This—" she froze, eyes widening.
'Why is that thing here…?'