"I need supplies." Vergil thought to himself. But he had no idea who to ask, then the words of a certain woman came to mind, and his steps headed towards where she was.
He found her where they parted ways, on a worn bench. A small breeze tugged at her hair as she gazed at the endless sky. Her expression felt distant, as if searching for something beyond the clouds.
When the sound of steps reached her ears, she blinked, pulling herself out of a daze.
"Elvira... I need your help." The name caught awkwardly on his tongue, for him, asking for help was never easy.
"I need supplies, somewhere I can buy them."
She studied him, inferring what he truly needed. "The general store is around the corner, near the main road if you need provisions. But for more specialised items..."
Her eyes lingered on the dagger sheathed at his side. "There's a shop to the right selling poisons and elixirs."
Vergil nodded, she spoke without wasting time. "Take care, if I need more help, I'll return."
She smiled, and for a moment, the edges of her face became soft–weary. The kind of sadness that came when someone stopped expecting anything from the world.
He restrained himself, not wanting to cross the boundary of no return.
"Be careful with that place." Her voice trembled–not from fear, but from memory.
Vergil caught on to the pause between her words. Silence that belonged to someone else's mistake.
He didn't ask. Some truths were traps when spoken aloud.
'So the owner likes to play around with their customers. Amusing... and troublesome.'
---
Ding. Ding. Ding.
The bell chimmed as Vergil entered. Outside the crooked sign dangled on one hinge, barely clinging to life.
The shelves lined the walls, crowded with bottles of every shape and colour, each row arranged with an almost obsessive care.
Behind the counter hunched an old man, a vial in hand. His parchment skin and stained robes told stories of too many failed experiments.
One eye was murky grey, the other amber, both gleaming with mischief. The scent of herbs clung to him like a second skin.
"A new day, a new face," he spoke, coughing lightly before smirking. "Welcome to my abode of oddities. The name's Osric. What do you seek?"
Suspicious. Definitely. But Vergil needed what he offered.
"I'm looking for a paralysis potion," he said firmly, straight to business.
"Ah, a boy who knows the value of an unfair fight–I respect that." Osric's tone carried subtle interest as he leaned back. "For an E-rank potion, a vial will run thirty silver."
"And what about an E-rank health potion?" Vergil asked.
"Restoring life is always trickier," Osric said thoughtfully. "That will be sixty silver."
They were expensive, but worth it.
"I'll take one of each."
The old man chuckled, reaching behind the counter, carefully taking down two vials. One shimmered dark green, the other glowed a faint red.
"A fine choice. But be careful with the paralysis. You wouldn't want to paralyse yourself."
"I'll keep that in mind," Vergil muttered, sliding the gold coin across the counter.
The moment it left his hand, a notification flickered before his eyes.
[Inventory Unlocked]
[You now have a storage capacity of 20 items! Additional space can be unlocked using Astralyth stones or other rare materials.]
Vergil smirked on the inside. 'Finally, something practical.'
The dagger, though, he kept at his hip. Too dangerous to pull it out mid-battle.
With the potions stored, he decided to return to Elvira. If the world was dangerous, the knowledge he would gather would be the key to his survival.
Wait, he thought. Wouldn't my system know something?
[If you have already learned the information, then I can tell you. Otherwise, I'm just a useless system.]
The voice sounded sulky. He rolled his eyes. This was what he had to deal with now.
---
When he spotted Elvira again, her calm expression almost felt rehearsed, as if she too hid something sharp beneath the quiet.
She sat at the same spot.
She watched him approach, a faint smile flickering–not surprise, but recognition.
"We meet again," she said lightly, her tone unreadable. "Did you need something else?"
"I… want to know more about the world."
Her expression shifted into deep thought. "Shouldn't you already know that?"
"I… don't remember much. When I woke up, I was just… here." The lie slid off his tongue too easily as his gaze fell low.
She studied him, eyes searching quietly, then rose.
"Poor soul," she murmured. "That explains a few things." Her sigh now quiet and heavy, like someone who's seen too many wonders.
"Come inside. If you plan to survive, you'll need more than just wit."
Inside the warmth met him, yet it only made him uneasy as his eyes flickered around the room.
She motioned to the chair opposite her. Shelves of dusty books lined the walls.
"Sit here, Vergil," Elvira said, motioning toward the chair opposite her.
Plucking an aged leather tome from the shelf, she laid it open on the table. A hand-drawn map sprawled across the double-paged mountains, seas, and borders. Entire kingdoms waited for their stories to be told.
"Being ignorant is bliss," she said quietly. "But too much ignorance will kill you. So listen well."
"In total, seven powers are dividing the world. The first is Vaeloria…",tracing a circle on the map.
"A kingdom without a sovereign."
Vergil frowned. A country without a ruler? How did that even work?
"The Council governs it," she continued, "and only the most capable rise to lead."
She tapped a place near the capital. "The Academy of Hunters trains prodigies from across Eternia in a two-year program starting in two months."
Vergil clenched his fingers, his gaze lingered at the academy. His mouth was twitching slightly.
"Aurelia." "The Holy kingdom that worships the goddess of light Aurelia, its people live in devotion, yet even they shook to the core when the goddess's own daughter, who descended, vanished during the First Demon war."
"Where could she be?" Vergil asked
"That's a question only the Goddess herself could maybe answer."
'I'd rather not meet another god again.' Vergil grimaced, leaving the matter there.
Finally, she pointed north to a dark, shadowed continent. "The Demonic Continent. Once the heart of an empire, ruled without opposition. After the Demon War ten years ago, they retreated."
"So they're… gone?"
Her gaze lingered on the northern edge of the map, and for a heartbeat, something colder passed over her face. "Some say the demons are hiding. Others claim they were forced into retreat. And there are whispers that some never left…"
"That's enough for now," she said, standing. "I have somewhere to be."
"However there is one more thing I need to explain before you leave," her eyes narrowed.
"Tears," she added.
Vergil frowned, he had never heard what the term meant. "Tears?"
Some tears close on their own–spilling monsters for a few hours. Others… stay open forever." Her fingers trembled against the map. "Those are gateways to other worlds."
Her grip tightening on his shoulders. "Promise me. Never to go in one."
He nodded once, voice low. "I promise.
Elvira glanced at the small wooden clock. "That's enough for today. Let's continue this another time."
Vergil inclined his head, smiling faintly.
"Take care, Elvira. If I need more help, I'll come back."
As Vergil stepped outside, a system panel appeared once more.
A faint chime echoing in his mind.
[Relationship with Retired Mage Elvira has increased to ★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆]
"Two stars for that?" he muttered, half amused, half wary. The system's logic made less sense by the minute.
[Your response at the end pushed it to two, and the relationship is now mutual.] The system responded.
He blinked, considering. 'The Retired mage, huh?' 'Then she must know magic.
He let out a bitter laugh. "So many forces, yet that wasn't all of them. I'm... so behind."
Vergil turned around. "Should we make our way to the forest?"
[Finally, something simple, trees don't talk politics.]
"Let's hope not," Vergil murmured, his smirk fading as the wind whispered through the trees.