The Arcadia Exchange room carried a serene stillness, the kind that wrapped around every corner like a soft veil. Golden lantern-light reflected off glass cases and shimring runes, making the place feel less like a shop and more like a temple of treasures.
Luca turned at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Ohh, brother!" he said with a faint smile.
Vincent approached, silver hair brushed neatly back, his presence as composed as ever. He gave a small nod before asking, "So, what are you doing here?"
"Well..." Luca scratched the back of his neck. "I have so credits now, so I thought maybe I could buy sothing useful."
Vincent’s sharp eyes studied him for a mont before he gave the slightest nod. "That’s true, but you won’t find anything much useful here. Co with ."
Luca blinked, surprised. Hmm? Is there sothing I don’t know?
Curiosity piqued, he followed Vincent deeper into the exchange. Soon, the familiar divisions of potions, weapons, techniques, and armors fell away. They entered a different section altogether—an isolated hall where no shelves were labeled, no racks separated by type. Instead, each item displayed here glead with an aura of importance, as though every one of them was a rare treasure.
Vincent stopped, folding his arms lightly as his gaze swept the room. "Take a look here. You’ll find the most useful things in this lot."
Luca’s eyes narrowed slightly. Hmm? There was no such special section for items in the ga... Am I missing sothing? His gaze flicked back to Vincent, waiting for an explanation.
"This was the dean’s idea," Vincent said at last, his tone calm, almost offhand. "It was implented a few days ago out of nowhere. These are the items deed most useful against the devil cultists."
So that’s it... another butterfly effect. Luca exhaled softly, his lips curling in a faint, wry smile. Well, it’s good for .
Vincent’s cold voice broke his thoughts. "So, what are you looking for?"
Luca tapped his chin, thinking carefully before answering. "Definitely not a weapon, since I already have twin swords. Maybe a movent or defensive technique, because I lack them. Though... a defensive technique could also be replaced by an armor or an artifact." He paused, then added, "As for potions... I don’t lack much for now."
Vincent nodded, expression unreadable. "Good thinking."
Vincent’s cold eyes swept across the shelves before he stopped at a long, narrow pedestal. He gestured with one hand, voice even and composed.
"This one—Moonveil Barrier Technique. Origin: Astravia Empire. Rank: Rare. Cost: 2800 credits. It’s a defensive technique that generates a crescent-shaped mana barrier strong enough to withstand mid-tier spells and physical strikes. Good for a quick deploy, but its weakness lies in constant drain—your mana will bleed fast if you try to hold it for long."
Luca narrowed his eyes, the words already etched in his mory. Yeah... I know this one from the ga. Pretty good, but not worth the mana unless you refine your control. Still, not bad for ergencies. He nodded politely. "Hmm... I see."
Vincent didn’t linger. He moved on to a glass case where a small, faintly glowing silver pendant rested on red velvet.
"This—Aegis of Brymholde. Origin: Dwarven Kingdom. Rank: Unique. Cost: 4200 credits. Armor in artifact form. Passive enchantnt, aning it doesn’t drain mana to function. Can absorb a single fatal blow once every seven days. Beyond that, it strengthens your natural resistance against curses and poisons."
Luca blinked, his lips twitching. Right... the dwarves were always good with enchantnts. This is one of the safer bets. Expensive, but worth it if you don’t want to die from a surprise stab in the back. No wonder players used to fight over this one...
"That’s... not bad," Luca admitted, tilting his head.
Vincent gave a curt nod, as if approving his observation, before stopping in front of a heavy, leather-bound to sealed with tallic clasps.
"This is a Defensive Array Scroll, crafted in the Elven Forest. Rank: Rare. Cost: 3500 credits. It allows you to inscribe a one-ti-use barrier in a fixed location. Once activated, it creates a do of light that can hold against high-tier destructive spells for about five minutes. Not portable, though. More useful if you’re defending a position or retreating."
Luca exhaled quietly. Yup, I rember. Players called this the ’coward’s scroll’ because it was mostly used when cornered. Still, for a real fight against cultists... it could save a team’s life.
Vincent finally turned his gaze to Luca, his expression unreadable. "You said you wanted sothing defensive. These are so of the best options. Decide carefully. Credits aren’t easy to earn."
Luca smirked faintly, rubbing his chin. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. It’s not bad to hear this out loud, though."
Vincent’s silver eyes lingered on him for a mont, as though searching for sothing in his tone, before shifting back to the items.
Luca’s gaze drifted across the room once more, moving past the array of glittering artifacts and tos—then his steps suddenly halted.
His eyes narrowed.
Wait... what’s that?
Luca’s eyes lingered on the golden-blue emblem etched across the armor’s chestplate, shimring faintly under the exchange hall’s crystal lights. He had seen this countless tis before in his playthroughs, always as Aiden’s exclusive piece, and yet standing before it now stirred a strange ache in his chest.
"That’s a full body armor," Vincent’s calm, asured voice broke into his thoughts, noticing where his gaze had settled. "Probably the greatest treasure in this entire exchange. But forget it—it’s not suitable for you."
Luca’s lips curved in a small, almost self-mocking smile as he let his eyes rest on it a mont longer. How could I not know what it is? This armor... the one I’ve played with every single turn, the one that only responds to Light Aura. Of course, it belongs to Aiden, not .
He exhaled softly through his nose, tilting his head. "Yeah, I know."
Just as he shifted his attention away, a sharp pain jolted through his skull, forcing a grunt past his lips. He clutched his temple, stumbling half a step as a familiar sound echoed inside his mind—
Papa! Papa!
Luca’s eyes widened. His chest tightened. That’s... impossible. Baby dragon? Here? His gaze flicked rapidly across the crowded exchange hall, packed with senior students moving between shelves. Summoning here was out of the question. Then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed Kunpeng’s feathers bristle, the temporal beast on his shoulder staring intently at sothing across the aisle.
Following Kunpeng’s line of sight, Luca froze.
"Dragon Blood Essence!!" he blurted out.
A tiny vial rested under glass, glowing faintly crimson-gold, like molten fire captured in liquid form.
Kunpeng’s sharp voice confird, "Yes. Dragon Blood Essence. That too... from a purebred one. This will be extrely useful for Baby Dragon."
Luca’s pulse quickened. His fingers tightened at his sides before he gave a firm nod. "Yeah. That’s it."
Vincent’s eyes narrowed slightly, his tone cautious. "Do you want that? Are you sure? It’s seven thousand credits. That’s everything you have."
But Luca didn’t hesitate. He pulled out his ID, the cold crystal humming as he pressed it against the panel. The display lit up—7000 credits deducted. The protective glass case lifted with a soft hiss, and the vial glead in front of him like a fragnt of destiny itself.
Vincent exhaled, shaking his head. "You didn’t even think about it, huh?"
A slow grin tugged at Luca’s lips as he carefully lifted the vial into his hand. The faint heat it radiated seed to sink straight into his skin. "You know it," he replied, tucking it away securely.
"Well," Vincent said with a resigned shrug, "let’s go. You don’t have a single credit left, no point in staying here."
"Mm." Luca nodded, surprisingly light-hearted, no regret in his eyes. He had gotten exactly what he needed.
But just as they stepped toward the exit, Luca’s body stopped on its own. His boots scraped softly against the polished floor.
His brows furrowed, his hand instinctively rubbing his eyes as though trying to banish a hallucination. Yet when he looked again, it was still there.
Luca’s throat went dry. His heart gave a violent thud against his ribs.
I’m not... dreaming, right?
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