Cecilia wanted to pat herself on the back. The cane had been a brilliant choice.
The system shop was full of expensive items with flashy, talent-enhancing abilities, but as she'd suspected, all the starred items here had triple the price of equivalent items value from the gacha pool.
Scammy!
Not to mention how most items were just for aesthetics, with boosts that weren't quite right for either her or Oathran.
There were only three functional items in the shop. A cane, a candle holder, and an… undeniably ugly shawl.
And their descriptions were weirdly simple.
[Cane]
[Keeps you from stumbling!]
[Candle Holder]
[Helps you know where you're going!]
[Ugly Shawl]
[Keeps you warm!]
All three were the only four-star items priced at the base conversion rate of 1000 G, while the other, more ornate items started at 3000 G.
"Interesting," she mused, her mind latching onto the anomaly. "The other items have clear enchantments alongside their talent boosts. These three don't seem to have any… Can I add enchantments to them?"
[Correct!]
[You can add Def%, HP%, or ATK% to any of them, with a 10% boost for every rank you upgrade!]
"Hmmm, is that their only function?" she hummed, her suspicion growing. There had to be a catch. These were four-star items, after all.
"Lord Oathran has a limp. Perhaps the cane is the perfect birthday gift, after all," she nodded.
[Eh? Cecilia, there are many more suitable items for Oathran Alicei! We recommend—]
"No," she cut the system off. "The other items look too luxurious. Too much. It wouldn't feel thoughtful for a first real gift between us. I need to choose something that's helpful, not 'in your face'."
[U-uhh, dragons are a prideful species! Cecilia, don't you think giving him a cane might… hurt his pride? A Dragon Lord can heal himself without any he—]
"There's something you're hiding about these items, isn't there?" Cecilia interrupted, a smug smile spreading across her lips. The system's desperate backtracking was all the confirmation she needed.
[...]
[...]
[Correct!]
[Do you want to buy Four Star Item: Cane?]
[Yes/No]
Cecilia chuckled, "Yes, let's try this one. And rank it up twice."
She spent 3000 G to buy three identical canes and fused them together, watching as the system upgraded the item twice. After that, she invested another 1500 G to layer it with an ATK% boost across all three ranks. 30% attack boost!
DING!
[Congratulations! You have unlocked a special enchantment slot for a unique four-star item! Would you like to add 'Unbreakable' (1000 G) to the item?]
What?! So this seemingly cheap item was a money pit after all! It was a trap!
Ah, fine! She was in far too deep to back out now.
She had a 5000 G reward from leveling up Oathran's love affinity, after all. Add to that the 700 G from converting the seven three-star junk items from her first gacha roll… she had the funds. Most of it was about to be poured into one deceptively simple item—it had better be worth it!
DING!
[Congratulations! You have successfully ranked up your Cane!]
[Cane]
[Rank 3]
[Keeps you from stumbling, whether it is a pebble on the road or an attack coming your way!]
[All kinds of attacks targeting you have a 42.8% chance to miss!]
Wha—?!
Her eyes snapped open, just in time to see the newly forged, powerfully enchanted cane materialize in her hands. The surprise of the revelation made her stumble forward, right as Oathran returned from his hunt and caught her shoulders to steady her.
Wouldn't this be a completely broken item?! A near 50% chance for any attack to just… whiff? It was insane!
She couldn't wait to tell Oathran all about it once he was done washing up. To top it all off, she still had 200 G to spare!
For now, duty called. She had some meat to cook.
Cecilia surveyed the beautiful, marbled cuts of elk Oathran had provided. The usual methods of cooking felt too civilized for the moment. So, she decided on the most primal method of all, the caveman steak.
Selecting the thickest, most promising cut, she laid it directly onto the bed of glowing charcoal at the fire's edge. A satisfying hiss greeted her, and she watched as the part of the coal touching the rich, red meat was instantly extinguished, creating a perfect, sterile seal that locked in the juices and kept pesky ash at bay.
This was the beauty of the method. The carbon itself became a pure, bacteria-killing oven, everything harmful long since incinerated by the intense heat.
While one hand turned the apples she'd nestled near the flames to roast slowly, their skins beginning to pucker and sweeten, her other hand hovered over the buried treasure.
With a delicate tendril of mana, she reached through the coals, sensing the steak's transformation. Cooking times were fickle, dictated by thickness and coal heat, but her magic gave her a perfect internal thermometer.
She guided the meat's core to a perfect temperature, the sweet spot for medium-rare where the elk would be supremely tender, juicy, and bursting with its robust, wild flavor. The aroma rising from the coals was intoxicating. It was a smoky, savory perfume that made her stomach growl.
As she waited, she took a crunchy bite from a fresh apple in her lap, its bright, tart juice a perfect counterpoint to the rich scent of the cooking meat.
Seeing the sheer volume of meat left, she made a practical decision. As soon as each steak was perfectly cooked, she would whisk it into her spatial inventory.
She had discovered that the inventory would store quite a bit of organic material where time stood still, ensuring every future meal would taste as if it had just come off the coals. The only downside was the retrieval process. Whenever she needed something out, it would come out of her… chest. Like the cane had. With… dramatic, divine-looking lights…
Seeing how that had turned out with Oathran, people might see her pulling out elk meat from her inventory as her spontaneously producing sacred meat. A new holy sacrament, courtesy of Saintess Cecilia's bosom.
Wait. A dragon should need more food than a human, right? Then perhaps Oathran would finish everything in one sitting. He had even offered to add fish to the menu!
So, should she even bother storing it? Should she take them back out…?
It wasn't the first time something resembling meat had come out of her chest, she supposed. Her heart was technically meat, too.
Come on… why would she make that connection now…?
As she contemplated this bizarre train of thought, she rubbed her chest with a dazed expression. The hollow space inside couldn't be seen from the outside, thanks to the miracle elixir's work. The wound itself was closed, but her heart was gone, ripped out and destroyed in Arzhen's hand.
Thankfully, her broken chest bone and ribs had been reattached, and her ripped skin and muscle repaired. As long as there wasn't too much mass missing, the elixir had done its job.
Seven years. Truly, they had meant nothing.
DRAP—DRAP—DRAP—
The sound of heavy, rapid footfalls shattered her reverie. Cecilia raised her face to see a pack of beasts bursting from the treeline. They were quite far away, but she could still make out their features.
Werewolves.
Some were in their half-beast form, hulking and bristling with fur. Others were in full beast form, massive wolves the size of large stallions. Only one of them had the closest form to a human.
You could generally gauge a beast's level of strength by the forms they could take. The closer a beast resembled a human, the stronger and more controlled they were. It meant they had mastered their primal instincts and unique traits.
And yes, mating with a human supposedly helped with that control, not that she was offering. The practice was still unpopular, given the vast differences in culture.
Cecilia focused her eyes on the man with the most human appearance. His frame was tall and sturdy, with short black hair and a nonchalant, confident gait that screamed authority.
He was likely the Alpha of the pack.
Seeing her sitting alone by the fire, two or three of the half-beast forms stepped forward. But the man with the most human appearance raised a single hand, and they immediately froze, falling back into line.
They spoke among themselves in low, rumbling growls before the entire pack began to back away. They turned and crossed the river upstream, no longer acknowledging her.
The black-haired man was the last to move. He faced Cecilia, his expression flat and unreadable. But after he made sure everyone had crossed the river, he gave a single, sharp nod, his hand placed over his chest.
Cecilia bowed her head slightly to return the gesture, and watched him turn to effortlessly catch up with the rest of his pack.
Smart.
Her hand was already firmly grasping the handle of the cane resting beside her.
If push had come to shove, she would've fought them.
And she would've won.