The next morning found JP hunched over the inn's table, counting the last of his coins with the intensity of a man trying to stretch a copper into gold.
"Not enough," he muttered.
Lyra raised a brow from across the table, nibbling on dried fruit. "You've said that six times already."
"Because it's true six times in a row!" JP snapped, shoving the pitiful handful of silvers back into his satchel. "We need better gear—especially for you—but even the cheapest reinforced vest in that market costs twice this much. And that's before arrows, quiver upgrades, and bowstring repairs."
Lyra gave a small shrug, her expression calm as ever. "So, what do you suggest? Rob a noble? Sell one of your pulse stakes?"
JP groaned. If only I could sell those stakes openly… no, too risky. The Guild's already breathing down my neck.
Instead, he tapped his temple. "We go material hunting. If I can find something rare enough, we'll make the coin in one sale."
By midday, they were combing the rocky outskirts beyond the city. Lyra kept a sharp eye for beasts while JP prowled the terrain, Appraisal glowing at his fingertips.
Ordinary stones, common iron flecks, patches of moss…
Then, something glittered faintly beneath a crack in the cliff wall.
JP froze. His Appraisal screen lit up like a festival lantern:
Silver-vein Fragment (Uncommon Ore)High alchemical conductivity.Value: 3–4 silver per shard.Vein depth: Shallow. Easily minable.
JP's grin stretched from ear to ear. "Lyra. Do you know what this means?"
She tilted her head. "That you're about to get your hands dirty?"
"Better!" JP pulled out his small alchemy chisel. "This is silver. Not the noble's kind, but good enough for smiths and alchemists. If we pull out enough, we can cover your whole upgrade set!"
Lyra leaned against her bow, watching as JP eagerly chipped at the vein, muttering to himself like a man unearthing treasure. Within an hour, they had a sack clinking with shards.
JP hefted it with pride. "This… this is our ticket."
Back in the blacksmiths' street, coin purses jingled with their fresh profits.
The smith's eyes widened when JP slammed the sack of ore onto the counter. "Where in the hells did you—ah, never mind. For this much silver, I'll get you the good stuff."
By evening, Lyra stood in the fitting room, testing her new gear. A reinforced leather cuirass layered with light steel plates, flexible bracers, and a fresh quiver across her back.
She spun lightly, her movements quick, silent, deadly.
"How does it feel?" JP asked, trying not to look too impressed.
Lyra gave a rare smile, drawing her bow with a crisp snap. "Like I won't die if someone sneezes too hard near me."
JP chuckled, already fiddling with resin to discreetly reinforce the armor seams when the smith wasn't looking. His alchemy touch would make it stronger, lighter.
For the first time since the Whispering Dagger, he felt a spark of confidence. With Lyra upgraded and his satchel full of ideas, they were ready for whatever shadow came next.