Becoming Legend

"Swords! Grade E made—"

Ned couldn't finish what the sellers were shouting since another cry interjected.

"Swords! Crafted from a Peak Grade D monster: Uduru! A signature of our famous blacksmith: Chian!"

"Cloak! From the scales of Bakunaoua!"

"Fuck the witches! We have talismans here! Protects you from a witch's spell for a year!"

"Blades!"

"Are you a warrior who likes to hack everything in the way? Or a mage, scared enough to go to the front line? Perhaps, a rouge who liking to play hide and seek during a raid? Worry not! Shop Babel! Got you covered! Tier two spells are now available!"

Ned was caught in surprise. The fireball he had was a spell he often used, even as a first-generation clone. The spell was a weaker version of his own spell Egnious, that conjuring it to his new body was a bread and butter to him. But having one or two spells wasn't enough. Especially that fire spells weren't made for versatility purposes. He could at least learn a new fire spell.

ICE, Ned sounded his system. How many Fire spells you have stored?

[Ned, you have thirty Unique fire spells stored in memory. Three of which is usable by your current body: Egnious, Fireball, and Fire lance.]

[Fire Lance is just a condensed form of Fireball manipulated precisely to look like a spear. A weaker version but faster throwing speed.]

[In order for you to use the remaining spells. Your body must reach at least half the state of your old one. Following the plans and workout for your body. It would take twenty more years to use the lowest fire spell you had like Fire Encubbus, Ignis Ultra, Reign of Fire, or the one you used to save Kamma from the pits of Hatshin Flamma Tango."

Ned paused across Babel shop. He was in-between the elevated platforms and the shops inside the building of Ventura. Which, he assumed that prices were higher than their counterparts sitting under the sun.

Ned was approached by the guy who cried for help buying their spells. It was a skinny guy, probably late twenties, a hollow—perhaps. Since it made sense to use hollows to sell spells; no matter how they tried learning spells was a feat impossible for them.

"Kid," he said, eyeing Ned high and low.

"I'm here for the spells," Ned said, breaking the guy's thoughts. Judging from his narrowing eyes, he must have thought that Ned was here for a stroll. "Got fire spells?"

The guy went silent as he led Ned inside their shop. A wooden shop cabinet against the walls on both sides. At the center were a man, late sixties, loose hair, and scratchy nose. "Sir," the guy said, "urchin's here for a spell."

"You idiot!" Cried the old man, slapping the high table. "He is a customer! Are you, kid?"—nodding toward Ned—"Forgive my son. He was just teasing. He was the urchin, not you. Now, come, come."

Ned nodded toward the urchin guy as he left with a scuff. Ned looked at the cabinets stacked with paper rolled and tied with a ribbon.

"Scrolls," the old man said. Noticing Ned with curious eyes. "We ain't that rich to afford Spellbooks. Anyway, urchin—I mean, kiddo, kid. Yes, yes—kid. What spell are you looking for?"

"Fire spells, sir," said Ned.

"Oh, hoo," replied the old.  Rubbing his long-aged beard. "You're not from here. Enough with the honorifics, Babel is fine. Anyway, we have Tier one spells like Fire Breath, Hot Stick, Fire Sting, or Fire Furt."

"Fire Furt," Ned muttered. "How much for the Fire Furt?"

"Good choice, kid," he said. This time rubbing the hair on his chest. "Fire Furt releases hot waves from your feet, which is a strong offense if you like to kick a lot. This is a common fire spell but greatly underestimated due to its slow process. Your magic capability must be above Tier one or Two, and it cost six hundred gold."

Ned coughed. Like the saliva went inside his lungs rather than his stomach. He cursed in his thoughts. Six hundred. Gold. He coughed once more. "Is that the cheapest?"

Old man Babel arched an eyebrow. "Scram, kid!" He cried. "Is that the cheapest? Is that the cheapest? You urchin. It is the cheapest of all the cheapest spells I have. Come back when you have enough."

"I think, I won't," Ned said. Leaving the reddish Babel.

The guy smirked and shook his head as Ned passed beside him.

I didn't even get to see the scroll. Ned thought. And left the spell shop. Six hundred gold for a spell, Tier one to say. Ned shook his head. My gold won't last a day or two if the prices here went a whopping gold.

And if to prove that Ned was right.  He bought a short sword (arm's length) that cost him a hundred a fifty gold. The sword was Grade E, made of iron, and the grip was made of hardwood neatly wrapped with a cloth. It came with an iron scabbard chiseled with an image of explosive fire.

According to the seller, bald, muscular, wore leather ( a blacksmith type guy). The short sword, which he named Boom, was a magic sword grade E. If Ned injected mana to Boom, the tip will explode once it made contact to the target. And gave Ned a warning that: "Remember, kid. Only the tip explodes. Not the edges, the tip. The tip." He had said those words like Ned was an infant.

He was a good guy though. Ned thought. The seller slash blacksmith Barbo ( which he proclaimed himelf as the best blacksmith in Sudden Plate) gave Ned a discount. Boom was supposed to be two-hundred gold coins.

With a sword hanging his waist, opposite of his pouch, a bag, and a near to none coins. Ned went to the fountain, where he would meet and start his job as a porter with the Quickfall team.