The forest was quiet now, but Max still swore he could hear the goblins’ screeches echoing in the back of his mind. The fight had been messy, brutal, and too close for comfort. His thigh still ached from where one of them had gotten lucky with a jagged blade, and though the wound had healed, the memory lingered.

  He glanced down at himself and almost laughed. The Initiate’s Robes were little more than fraying cloth now—thin, stained, and riddled with tears from claws, teeth, and poorly aimed knives. The hem was scorched in more than one place, and the color had faded so much that calling it “gray” was generous.

  Level 10, he thought, shaking his head. I’ve survived mutant rats, psycho squirrels, an enraged deer, goblins with more enthusiasm than skill, and a damn Beast that nearly tore me in half… and I’m still wearing what is basically a glorified bathrobe.

  He exhaled slowly. “Yeah… it’s time.”

  Max pulled up his HUD, navigating over to the Store icon. The interface shimmered into view like a holographic catalog, neat categories lining the side. He scrolled past the Featured Items tab, his mind already made up.

  The staff he’d found earlier—a fine enough weapon but not something he was attached to—hovered in the inventory display. Selling it would be a solid start toward upgrading. He tapped the “Sell” button, and a confirmation prompt appeared:

  Sell: Staff of Twin Channels

  Credit Value: 2,500

  Confirm?

  Max smirked. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  The credits icon in the top corner of his HUD jumped upward, the number gleaming a satisfying 2,500 brighter than before. The little rush of satisfaction was immediate.

  Alright, let’s see what’s behind Door Number One.

  He tapped Armor from the category menu, and the screen shifted into an overwhelming grid of equipment thumbnails. Rows upon rows of chest pieces, greaves, gloves, boots, and full sets stared back at him. Each had neat little icons marking their rarity, defense rating, weight, and special properties.

  Max blinked at the sheer volume. “Wow. Yeah. This is… a lot.”

  The first set he looked at was obviously warrior gear—a suit of plate armor that could have doubled as a personal tank. Full chest plate, pauldrons big enough to shield a small child, and layered greaves so thick they probably laughed at swords. The tooltip read:

  Steel Vanguard Set (Uncommon)

  +65 Physical Defense

  +10 Strength

  Movement Speed: -15%

  Casting Speed: -40%

  Max grimaced. “Yeah… that’s a hard pass. Not looking to cosplay as a slow-moving tin can.”

  He scrolled down. Another warrior set caught his eye, this one made from a strange chitinous material—a glossy black that reflected light like wet stone. The armor was segmented, lightweight, and looked like it had been peeled off some nightmare beetle.

  Carapace Guard (Rare)

  +45 Physical Defense

  +15 Poison Resistance

  +5 Agility

  Weak to Fire Damage

  Max tilted his head. “Cool… but I don’t really want to find out what it smells like when it gets hit with a fireball.”

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  He flicked through a few more warrior options—ornate helms that boosted intimidation stats (whatever that meant), bracers lined with spikes, even a set that came with its own cape. But the theme was the same: great for melee tanks, terrible for someone who relied on casting.

  “Alright, warrior stuff’s a bust,” he muttered, switching over to Mage Gear.

  At first, it was disappointing. Most mage robes seemed obsessed with mana efficiency, regeneration, or increasing the duration of supportive buffs. All useful in the right hands—but for Max, who favored frying things before they got too close, none of it felt right. He didn’t want to just support. He wanted to hit hard, hit fast, and still not die if something closed the distance.

  One robe caught his attention for a moment—deep midnight blue with silver embroidery that pulsed faintly in the store preview.

  Aetherweave Regalia (Uncommon)

  +25 Magical Power

  +15% Mana Regeneration

  -10 Physical Defense

  He sighed. “Yeah… I’d look great in that, but I’d also die in it. Pass.”

  Then, while scrolling through another handful of support-heavy sets, his eye caught something different.

  At first glance, the armor looked like a cross between a mage’s battle robes and a warrior’s plate—sleek, form-fitting plates of some silvery metal layered over reinforced dark fabric. The pauldrons were modest, the gauntlets slim enough not to restrict his grip, and the chest plate was etched with faintly glowing runes that hinted at enchantment.

  The tooltip popped up as he hovered over it:

  Runeforged Battlegear (Rare)

  Material: Arcane Steel Alloy

  +40 Physical Defense

  +30 Magical Power

  +10% Casting Speed

  No penalty to spellcasting or movement

  Set Bonus (3/3): +5% Critical Damage Per Piece

  Credits: 5000 for each piece. Set of 3

  Max’s eyebrows rose. “Oh… hello.”

  The description continued:

  Forged from magically conductive metals mined from the outer planes, this armor offers the best of both worlds—protective plating without sacrificing magical output. Designed for battle-mages who stride into the thick of combat without fear.

  He turned the preview model around with a swipe of his hand. The armor caught the store’s artificial light, the silver-blue sheen shifting subtly like the surface of a calm lake. The rune etchings across the chest and vambraces pulsed with a slow heartbeat glow, as though alive with power.

  This… this was it.

  Max leaned back slightly, considering. It wasn’t cheap—15,000 credits for the full set—but the numbers were solid, the balance between offense and defense exactly what he’d been looking for.

  The memory of the goblin fight came back to him—the way their blades had cut through his robes like tissue, the way he’d been forced to dodge like a madman just to stay alive. The warrior trial flashed next in his mind—close-quarters combat where one wrong move had almost caved his ribs in. If he’d had this armor back then? The fight would’ve been entirely different.

  He tapped Purchase.

  The credits counter dropped, and a chime rang in his ears.

  Runeforged Battlegear acquired.

  Stored in inventory.

  Max didn’t even wait—he equipped the set immediately. The Initiate’s Robes dissolved in a faint shimmer of light, replaced by the cool weight of Arcane Steel.

  It wasn’t heavy—surprisingly so. The chest plate hugged his torso without restricting movement, and the layered plates flexed naturally with his body. The gauntlets felt like an extension of his own hands, and the greaves shifted smoothly as he took a few experimental steps.

  A faint hum of energy radiated from the rune-etched plates, syncing with the thrum of mana inside him. It wasn’t just armor—it was a conduit, feeding his power rather than choking it.

  Max grinned. “Now this feels like Level 10.”

  The HUD pinged again, offering a brief tutorial on armor maintenance and enchantment slots. Apparently, this set had three open rune sockets—meaning he could further customize it with enhancements down the line. That thought alone made his pulse quicken.

  For now, though, he was content to stand in the middle of the forest, the light from the setting sun glinting off his new armor.

  “Alright,” he said softly, flexing his fingers as the gauntlets shifted with him. “Let’s see how you handle a real fight.”

  He closed the store window, his credits slightly lighter but his confidence heavier than ever. The path ahead might still be dangerous, but at least now he’d be walking it with more than just a bathrobe between him and death.