“You… you’re an Appraiser…?”

  My eyelid twitched, a physical manifestation of the stress jolting through me. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second.

  Why does everything always have to be so complicated?

  How am I supposed to know what’s considered unusual in this world and what isn’t? What happens if, for whatever reason, I receive another blessing someday, and it ends up screwing me over completely? Besides, I didn’t even know if receiving a blessing was a "relatively" normal thing or not. Maybe high priests of the gods were sometimes blessed, but not normal people.

  I had to admit to myself once again that I knew far too little about this world. My only advantage was that I was a child, and thus could often feign ignorance. Just like now.

  So, I just looked at Verity with a carefully crafted, clueless shrug. “Appraiser? What’s that?”

  She was just about to start her explanation when a new voice from behind me beat her to it.

  “An Appraiser is a person who is used to identify unknown objects. It is common for an Appraiser to be magically gifted, but that you are one… that, surprises me.”

  I knew that voice. Arthur. Grinning, I turned around. “You know a hell of a lot, don’t you?” I replied.

  But that somehow seemed to have hit a sore spot with Arthur. The corners of his mouth and his eyebrows drooped slightly. An awkward silence descended, and no one spoke until Verity explained, her voice a little softer now, “That’s because we read a lot to Arthur.”

  The blind boy just nodded, a hint of what I thought might be wistfulness in his expression. But a sharp snap of Verity’s fingers brought him out of his reverie.

  “Arthur, would you perhaps like to take Grim and Pip with you to Mantris’s? You’re heading into the city today to get his statement for your current case, aren’t you?” she suggested.

  Judging by the way Arthur’s face lit up, he wasn't opposed to the idea. But who was Mantris, and why should we go there? A quick glance at Verity’s face, however, told me that I should probably just let myself be surprised.

  “Of course,” Arthur said, a smile returning to his face. “I would be very happy to have the company. We could leave soon. I just need to let Will know beforehand so he can get the cart ready.”

  Hm. I haven't seen much of the city yet, so why not? “Pip, should we go into the city with Arthur?” I said, looking down at Pip, who, I now realized, was no longer sitting next to me but had already trotted over to sit beside Arthur.

  “I guess that’s a yes,” I laughed, amused, and then said to Arthur, “I’ll just go grab something quickly, and then we can go.”

  Grinning, and 25 silver pieces richer, Arthur, Pip, and I sat with a man named Will on a simple, sturdy cart. We were just leaving the forest, turning onto the main road. Beneath us, the wheels rumbled over smooth cobblestones past the edge of the woods, and gradually, more and more people came towards us until we reached the first houses of the city proper.

  They were simple stone buildings, some with large window fronts that looked like shops. But in the background, towering over the smaller structures, I could see several massive buildings, and one of them I even recognized… the Arcane Sanctum.

  The streets were a vibrant river of life: common folk going about their business, simple carts and elegant noble carriages, robed mages, City Watch guards, and people in various types of armor. Some wore a mix of clothing and leather armor, others full leather, and a few were clad in a combination of leather and steel. These individuals were equipped with swords, shields, bows, daggers, and all sorts of other weapons I didn’t recognize.

  For Pip, all this was, of course, both exciting and overwhelming. She curiously watched everything that passed by, her head swiveling, but she sometimes flinched at loud noises from the street. Nothing we couldn’t solve with some reassuring strokes, though.

  Interested, I asked the driver, Will, “What’s the deal with all these armed people?”

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise, then a look of understanding crossed his face. “Right, you’re new to the city. Those are adventurers. Some are here to accept or turn in quests, while others are probably just coming from or heading to the dungeon.”

  He surely doesn’t mean that kind of dungeon, does he? But he can't mean a prison either, that would make even less sense.

  “What kind of dungeon do you mean?” I asked Will, feigning ignorance.

  But no answer came from him. He stared stoically straight ahead, his expression suddenly tense. When I followed his gaze, I saw why. There was a large commotion up ahead. A crowd had gathered in front of a building, and people were shouting. I could hear the sharp clang of steel on steel, followed by cries of pain.

  “Welcome to Mantris’s…” Arthur said, his voice flat and weary, shaking his head slightly.

  The driver just sighed and brought the cart to a halt about ten meters from the crowd. As we came to a stop with a jolt, we carefully climbed down and Arthur said “Thanks, Will. You can pick us up in about an hour.”

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  The tumult wasn't getting any quieter, so I scooped Pip into my arms and turned to the blind boy. “Arthur, forgive the questions. You seem to have recognized that we’ve reached our destination by the sounds. Is it normal for people to try and kill each other in front of this shop? And do you need help navigating through this crowd? If so, how can I help you?”

  Arthur nodded slowly as he listened. “The loud noises make it difficult to concentrate, and this district is always busy. I would be very grateful if you could perhaps lend me your shoulder. That way, I can follow you safely. And as for the commotion… yes, it’s not uncommon. Mantris is an Appraiser, like you. Adventurers often visit his shop because they’ve found an item that needs to be identified. If it turns out that the item is particularly valuable… then discontent often spreads within the group of adventurers. One says he found the item and therefore the money belongs to him alone, and the others, of course, want a piece of the pie. And then it happens that people can’t agree and settle their dispute with violence… even if it’s not the most civilized way. But don’t worry, they won’t bother us.”

  Greed… some things never change. But wait a minute… if Mantris is an Appraiser and Appraisers are so rare, was that why Verity wanted me to accompany Arthur? But from what I understood, this was an innate gift, not something you could learn. So it couldn't be an apprenticeship… but should I maybe still ask if he’d hire me? All that was irrelevant right now, though. First, let’s see what kind of person this Mantris is.

  “Ready?” I asked Arthur. When he nodded in agreement, I took his hand and placed it on my shoulder. And with that, we carefully made our way past the shouting, shoving crowd and entered the shop, which a sign on the wall introduced as “Mantris’s Steady Coin.”

  I pushed the door handle down and shoved the door open. A small bell chimed, announcing our arrival, and a wave of different smells washed over me: metal, herbs, cloth, oil, cold stone, fire, and what felt like a hundred other scents all mingled together, hinting at what awaited us.

  The shop, inside and out, was made entirely of stone. A large counter, dozens of shelves, and just as many wooden crates filled the room. The shelves were stocked with all sorts of items. On one wall were pieces of armor like helmets, gauntlets, and boots; on another wall’s shelves were daggers, crossbows, short swords, and weapons I’d never seen before. One looked like a whip, but made of jointed blades.

  The crates, on the other hand, were filled with raw materials like ores, chunks of wood, bolts of cloth, and so on. And then there was the large counter that dominated the room. It had glass display cases filled with richly decorated crowns, rune-engraved swords, and… glowing potions? Were those actual magic potions?! There was a lot of interesting stuff here; even Pip was looking around curiously from the safety of my arms.

  “Arthur, it is an absolute torment to see you,” a slick voice with a southern accent rang out as a man emerged from a back room.

  The man was probably in his mid-forties, with olive skin and a bald head. A small, thin scar cut through his right eyebrow. He wore a simple, short-sleeved white shirt with a brown vest, brown trousers, and simple sandals. But his fingers were richly adorned with gold rings set with colored gemstones, and exotic-looking golden pendants hung from his ears. A smug grin was plastered on his face, and his brown eyes didn’t look very trustworthy.

  And apparently, Arthur was of a similar opinion. The blind boy stepped forward from behind me. “Mantris. If I could see, I would surely return the compliment. But unfortunately, we can't avoid this conversation. So let’s get it over with. Are you prepared to pay a fine, or would you rather make a statement that might lead to you having to appear in court for a hearing?”

  When Mantris heard that, he rolled his eyes in annoyance and retorted, “How much…?” And I had to inwardly chuckle when I saw a tiny, almost unnoticeable, mischievous grin on Arthur’s face.

  “Ten gold pieces?” the blind boy said with an innocent shrug.

  When Mantris heard that, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “TEN GOLD PIECES?! You miserable cutthroat! Here. Look at this,” he said irritably and slammed a simple dagger onto the counter. “This is a dagger from my supplier. Exactly the kind of dagger that goes over the counter here every day. Look at this dagger and tell me that its quality is inferior.”

  There was a moment of silence. I saw Arthur’s eye twitch with annoyance, and with a soft sigh, he shook his head.

  And then I heard a slap. Mantris had smacked his own forehead.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone suddenly apologetic. “That was not very considerate of me. But the fact is, the weapons I sell here are of good quality. And therefore, I can’t understand why so many adventurers are complaining.” He explained it all with a feigned innocence. But Arthur just shook his head again, annoyed.

  “Grim, could you appraise this dagger for me, please?” he whispered quietly.

  Ahhh, so that’s how the wind blows. With a mischievous grin, I looked at the dagger on the counter and whispered, “Appraisal…”

  ========== APPRAISAL ==========

  Name: Crude Iron Dagger

  Category: Weapon (Dagger)

  Quality: Inferior

  Condition: Good

  Durability: Low

  -------------------------------

  (Further analysis requires higher rank)

  ===============================

  I can see the Quality and Durability of weapons now?! Hahaha, this is awesome! I felt like a little kid on Christmas morning. But the bitter reality quickly pulled me back into the situation. Either Mantris didn't know any better, or he was deliberately sending adventurers into the field with shoddy equipment. I couldn't just let that stand.

  “The Quality is ‘Inferior’ and the Durability is ‘Low’. This product is complete shit,” I explained, matter-of-factly. And Pip meowed in confirmation… however much she could judge the quality of a dagger.

  But Mantris’s jaw dropped. “You’re not messing with me. You… you’re an Appraiser? Do you want to work for me? I pay well. Very well, in fact.”

  When Arthur heard that, he raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then shook his head… disappointedly? And once again, it was all about profit. Human lives were worth nothing to some people.

  “Think about it, Arthur…” Mantris pleaded, turning his attention back to the blind boy. “I would never knowingly sell inferior goods. No, no. I give you my word of honor. But if we had another Appraiser, then quality control would be assured, and the adventurers could use the equipment I’m supplied with, with peace of mind. This boy would be the third Appraiser in all of Aegis!”

  Wh-what?! “There are only three—THREE Appraisers in all of Aegis?!” it burst out of me.

  When Mantris heard that, he had to laugh. “Well, that’s not entirely correct. There are probably between 20 and 100 Appraisers in Aegis. But most of them are simply no good and therefore aren’t known as Appraisers.”

  And now it was Arthur who asked, confused, “What do you mean, they’re ‘no good’?”

  Mantris rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then said, “Well, some of them can, with a lot of luck, tell you that a dagger is made of iron or steel, for example, but a blacksmith can usually tell that with the naked eye. But if you want the really important information… the hidden properties, the enchantments, the true quality… then you go to the King’s treasurer, whom no one will ever get to see, or you come to me.” He explained it with an arrogant and self-satisfied grin.