[Chapter 273. A Substantial Investment]

Zibnak returned with the storage rings, each appearing from nowhere as his long fingers dipped into an unseen dimension. He placed them meticulously on the crystalline table before Searanox, the metal clicking softly against the surface.

"Four intermediate and one grand, each with the Lock and Switch enchantments." The rings gleamed under the light of the shop, their surfaces unmarked and unblemished by the System's harsh reality.

Searanox took the grand ring, the metal cool against his skin. He slipped it onto his finger and focused his will, feeling the familiar tug of the spatial connection. With a soft pulse of blue light, all his items vanished from sight, returning to his dimensional space. He flexed his hand once, testing the ring's fit.

"Now, would you like to sell me some gear?"

Zibnak's smile widened, his yellow eyes gleaming with anticipation. The sharp teeth that had seemed menacing earlier now appeared almost cheerful in their display. "Of course. What would you like?" His posture shifted slightly, leaning forward with the practiced grace of a merchant about to make a significant sale.

"I would like armor—four sets. I want them to be durable, and they should match a particular style," Searanox said, sitting comfortably back on the sofa, the leather creaking softly under his weight. He gestured vaguely with one hand, his mind already envisioning the loadouts he needed for his key personnel.

"Are you planning on gearing your team?" Zibnak asked, steepling his fingers together as he studied the Dhampir with newfound interest.

"Yes. I would like something white, suitable for a tank, a healer, a mage, and an assassin." Searanox's voice was measured, each role defined with a precision that betrayed his strategic thinking.

Zibnak stroked his chin as he stood up, his long nails scraping softly against his skin. "A white armor for an assassin. Just when you think you have seen it all, someone comes around to prove you wrong." He moved with surprising agility for his apparent age and pulled a book from a nearby shelf.

It was bound in what appeared to be pale leather with silver filigree. He placed it on the table with reverence, gesturing toward it. "Please, look through it until you see something you like."

Searanox took the book, its pages surprisingly cool to the touch. He flipped it open; each page featured a single set of armor. The high-quality drawings were accompanied by stats on the side, rendered in such detail that he could almost feel the texture of the metal and fabric. He immediately felt as if he were playing a game and flipping through the cash shop, armed with unlimited resources.

After a long time of browsing—hearing the soft rustle of pages and feeling the growing weight of Zibnak's patient gaze—he came across a design that caught his eye. It looked like Valkyrie armor, with silver plates that captured and reflected the light, pristine white fabrics draping elegantly over the frame, and feathers adorning various places to provide a nice accent to the color palette.

He read through the text on the side. While technical terms like "etheric harmonization" were beyond his current understanding, he gathered that this was a high-quality armor made from a mana-infused silver-mithril alloy, with enchantments for durability, mobility, and magical resistance. The design was both functional and aesthetically pleasing—a rare combination.

"How much would one of these cost me?" Searanox set the book down on the table and pointed out the armor, his finger hovering just above the detailed illustration.

Zibnak leaned forward, examining the page with a critical eye. "That would be 1,286 coins per set." He stated the price with the casualness of someone discussing the weather, though the amount was staggering.

"Wow... That's expensive." Searanox's eyebrows rose slightly as he calculated the total cost in his head. Four sets would deplete half the coins he had just earned from selling the Empire's gear. The price was a harsh reminder of the resources required to maintain an elite force in this unforgiving world.

"It is custom-made armor for the winged warriors of the heavens, crafted from a very special material," Zibnak said, his long fingers tracing the outline of the Valkyrie armor. The light from the crystalline lanterns made the silver plates in the illustration gleam as if they were real. "The material is called 'Aetherium Weave' it's as light as silk but stronger than steel, with natural magic resistance that increases exponentially during celestial alignments."

"Alright, I'll take four of them. I also need a set of armor for an Eldritch Knight." Searanox's voice remained steady, betraying none of the shock he felt at the price tag. Four sets at 1,286 coins each was a massive investment, but his elite team needed the best possible protection. The thought of Sarah in that pristine armor, or Lana commanding attention on the battlefield, made the expense necessary.

Zibnak took the book and flipped through it, his movements fluid and practiced as if he knew every page by heart. The paper rustled softly as he found the exact section. "Eldritch Knight, you say?" His eyes lit up with excitement. "I have something special that just came in."

He turned the book to show Searanox an intimidating set of black armor that seemed to absorb the ambient light. The plates had an otherworldly sheen, and the design incorporated dark patterns that coiled around the joints and shoulders.

"Hell yeah. I'll take one of those, too. How much?" Searanox leaned forward, his interest piqued by the menacing dark energy that seemed to emanate from the page. It would complement Iris's eldritch powers perfectly.

"This one would be 1,690 coins." Zibnak watched Searanox's reaction carefully, knowing the price would stretch his budget even further. The merchant's yellow eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

"Sure... Do you sell gear equal to this?" Searanox asked, placing his own gauntlet on the table. The metal clinked softly against the crystal surface, drawing Zibnak's attention to the intricate design.

Zibnak looked at it, then shook his head. "I'm afraid we don't sell set items. At least, not like these. The gear in this book is crafted by craftsmen." He pointed a finger at Searanox's arm. "Your armor is a set, crafted by the System itself. It may look like gear that was forged normally, but the System granted it power beyond what it originally held. On rare occasions, someone will sell a piece that belongs to a set, but they are always sold at auction." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned closer. "Once, a breastplate from the Sunfire Vanguard set sold for nearly two platinum coins at the Great Bazaar."

"Can't be helped, then. Are sets really that rare?" Searanox's fingers tightened around his gauntlet, suddenly hyper-aware of how valuable his equipment was. The System had gifted him something truly extraordinary—something that couldn't be purchased even with vast wealth.

"Very much so. A set is always unique; some say there can only be one of them in the multiverse at any given time. That makes each set highly valuable," Zibnak explained, his eyes gleaming with avarice as he stared at Searanox's gauntlet. "The synergy between pieces of a set creates powers that individual items could never achieve alone. When you complete a set, you unlock abilities that can change the very fabric of battle."

"Well then, I think that is all for now. I may visit you again in due time," Searanox said as he stood up, ending the conversation with a practiced finality that left no room for further discussion. He knew the merchant was sizing up his gear and calculating its worth, but he had no intention of parting with a single piece.

Zibnak walked over to a chest, opened it, and pulled the sets of armor out from within. The white Valkyrie sets seemed to glow with their own inner light, while the Eldritch Knight armor remained shrouded in shadow. "We will settle the coins at the counter; I will subtract these from your total." Zibnak's voice was smooth as silk as he gestured toward the payment area.

Searanox walked over, methodically storing each set of armor in a different ring. His movements were precise as he separated the gleaming white Valkyrie sets from the shadowed Eldritch Knight armor. The clink of metal against the floor echoed in the quiet shop, each piece vanishing with a faint shimmer of light.

Then, a slow smile rose on his lips, changing the entire atmosphere of the room. "Zibnak, you said you sell people, right?"

Zibnak paused, his yellow eyes glowing softly in the dim light, his expression unreadable. "Everything has a price in the multiverse. Are you looking for something specific?" His fingers drummed lightly on his fine clothes, the only sound in the tense silence.

"Let's say I had six full-bloods of the Empire, all around level twenty..." Searanox leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, "...with military training and knowledge of Imperial protocols."

"That is an interestingly specific scenario." Zibnak's eyes narrowed as he mentally calculated the value. "Depending on the information provided and their physical condition, I would say four hundred coins each. More if they have noble blood or unique skills." The merchant's voice betrayed no moral judgment, discussing them with the same casualness as common livestock.

"I'm beginning to like you more with every visit," Searanox said with a dark chuckle, storing the shadowed cuirass of the Eldritch Knight set into his ring.

"The feeling is mutual, Lord of Androxis," Zibnak said, his tone respectful as he finalized the tally. The merchant's mind raced, calculating the potential profits from trafficking Imperial captives.

Searanox leaned against the polished counter, his fingers tracing patterns on the surface. "And Zibnak, please call me Searanox," he said, pocketing the twenty-three gold coins and sixty-six silver that Zibnak had placed on the surface. The metal vanished into his ring with a satisfying weight. The transaction was complete, but the unspoken understanding between them lingered in the air.

"I am honored, Lord Searanox," Zibnak replied with a fluid, slight bow. "May we see each other again soon."

Searanox left the shop, his boots echoing softly as he stepped back onto the dark cobblestones lining the streets of Androxis. Without breaking stride, he swapped his entire loadout using the switch enchantment of his grand storage ring. The air around him shimmered as new equipment materialized on his body.

On his fingers were now four intermediate Rings of Willpower, granting him a combined total of forty extra stats. Three intermediate rings lifted his MP by 300 points, while two intermediate earrings boosted all of his stats by an additional twenty.

Sweet, my TP cap has increased to almost seventeen hundred and my regeneration is up to forty-two. These items are absolutely broken.

The thought raced through his mind as he continued down the street before summoning his travel drone and flying toward the Labyrinth. The city's violet-lit streets blurred beneath him as the drone's engines hummed softly.

He reached the glowing green portal and crossed it without waiting; he knew Iris should already be inside with the girls and every silver-ranked citizen she could find. The portal's energy tingled against his skin, causing a brief, disorienting sensation before he was thrust into the familiar desolation of the Labyrinth's first floor.

As he stepped into the wasteland, he could already see two Stonehide Striders under attack from a dozen or so people. The creatures' massive, rock-encrusted bodies glistened under the harsh sunlight, their thick shells deflecting most blows. The fighters moved with practiced coordination, their weapons striking with precision.

Searanox sent out his recon drones—this time not just the five intermediate units, but seven basic ones accompanying them.