Chapter 472: Gathering Items

By the time dawn crept through Damien’s window, his magic core had replenished all that had been consumed during his previous battle, and even produced a surplus. His body, tempered through countless fights, did not need the full night, but it had taken it anyway.

And so, when the knock came, Damien surfaced from sleep like someone easefully swimming upward from warm water.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He opened his eyes.

Fenrir stirred immediately, lifting its head at the sound. Luton rolled once, wobbling into a more alert position.

“Come in,” Damien said, still half-seated on the bed.

The door creaked open.

A young woman stood in the doorway, one of the soldiers from Haldric’s unit. The one who had fought near the front even when fear had been choking her. Damien remembered her. Not because she had done anything extraordinary, but because she had refused to run.

“Good morning, sir—ah—Damien,” she corrected herself awkwardly. “I brought breakfast. And a change of clothes the quartermaster prepared for you.”

Damien nodded in appreciation. “Thank you.”

She stepped forward, placing a tray and folded garments on the nearby table. But as she did, both her eyes kept darting toward Fenrir… and Luton.

Fenrir returned her stare calmly, unblinking.

Luton vibrated with excitement, as if delighted that someone new was within arm’s reach.

The soldier swallowed.

Damien raised an eyebrow. “Relax. If they meant you harm, you wouldn’t be standing.”

She froze.

Fenrir exhaled a slow breath, more like a judge waiting for a verdict. Luton made a faint bubbling noise, as if agreeing entirely.

“Y-yes,” she said quickly. “I know. It’s just… being in the same room with them is… different.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Damien replied. Then under his breath, he added. “Or not.” He wouldn’t be here for long after all.

He sat up fully now, stretching his arms out, muscles loosening after the long sleep.

“Your name?” he asked casually.

“Seliah,” she said instantly. “First Squad, Second Unit.”

“Seliah,” Damien repeated with a nod. “Thank you for bringing these.”

She bowed deeper than necessary. Then bowed again.

And again.

Damien blinked. “You don’t need to be that formal.”

“It’s not formal, sir. It’s just gratitude,” she stammered. “If you hadn’t come when you did, I… I would’ve been one of the bodies in that field. All of us would’ve. I—”

“Fate wasn’t done with you,” Damien interrupted smoothly.

She stared at him, confused.

Damien shrugged. “If fate wanted you gone, I wouldn’t have been there.”

That made her go still. Something softened in her shoulders.

Fenrir lowered its head slightly.

Luton bounced once, as though pleased with the explanation.

Seliah regained her composure and gestured toward the tray. “I’ll take my leave now. If you require anything else—”

“Actually,” Damien said, “there is one thing.”

She paused. “Yes?”

“I’d like to enter the city. I need to buy a few things.”

“Oh!” Seliah brightened. “Then I’ll accompany—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence.

“I… actually can’t, not without permission from General Haldric or the Commander. Soldiers aren’t allowed to escort outsiders without approval.”

Damien nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll ask one of them after I eat.”

Seliah bowed once more and retreated quickly before Fenrir’s unblinking stare dissolved her composure entirely.

The door shut behind her.

Damien chuckled under his breath. “You scared her.”

Fenrir blinked.

Luton burbled proudly.

Damien shook his head and sat at the table, pulling the tray closer. The food was simple; bread, soup, herbs, and something roasted. But it was warm and well prepared. He ate methodically, saving every shred of energy he could.

Once he finished, he washed up in the adjoining bathroom, refreshing himself quickly, and changed into the clothes Seliah had brought. They were well-made, durable, and fit him better than expected.

Then, with Luton hopping back onto his shoulder and Fenrir moving behind him with silent steps, Damien opened the door and stepped back into the hall.

The barracks had awakened fully now. Soldiers moved briskly, some in formation, others cleaning gear. A few paused when they saw him.

Most kept a respectful distance.

Damien began asking for Haldric.

It only took him a few wrong hallways and two training yards before… “There you are.”

Damien turned.

Haldric stood near the entrance of an office, broad smile across his face. “I was just about to look for you.”

“Good timing,” Damien said. “I need permission to enter the city. And I’d like Seliah to accompany me.”

Haldric’s grin deepened. “Heading out early, are you?”

“Just for purchases,” Damien clarified. “Some things I need before leaving tomorrow.”

“Understood.” Haldric gestured for him to follow. “I’ll give you clearance myself.”

Fenrir padded after Damien. Luton slid down from his shoulder to his head again, taking its usual post like a tiny general.

Haldric glanced at the slime. “You know, I still don’t understand how that thing eats demons.”

“Neither do I,” Damien said dryly. He only knew Luton could devour anything. How it worked, he had no idea.

Haldric barked a laugh.

They reached a small administrative room, where Seliah was already standing stiffly at attention. She seemed startled when she saw Damien behind Haldric.

“Oh, um… General, sir?”

“At ease, Seliah,” Haldric waved. “Damien wants you to escort him into the city. Not for long. Just to help him secure a few items.”

Seliah straightened. “Of course. I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” Haldric said. “The gate soldiers will let you pass. Just show this.”

He handed her a small insignia. Seliah accepted it with reverence.

Haldric then turned to Damien.

“Try not to cause too much chaos out there,” he teased.

Damien gave him a faint smile. “I’ll keep it to a minimum.”

Fenrir snorted and Luton hummed.

Haldric chuckled. “Go on then. I’ll have lunch ready here when you get back.”

Damien nodded and motioned to Seliah. “Lead the way.”

They stepped out of the military district and onto the main road leading deeper into Galandra’s bustling city.

The morning air was brisk, filled with scents of open bakeries, forge smoke, and distant taverns prepping for the day. The streets were crowded but orderly.

Seliah walked half a step ahead, glancing back every so often as if to confirm she hadn’t imagined being assigned to escort this man.

After several minutes, she found her voice.

“Do you mind if I ask what items you’re looking for?”

Damien shook his head. “I’ll tell you when we reach the market. It’s nothing dangerous.”

Seliah exhaled in relief. “I’m glad. After yesterday, I thought you might be gathering ingredients to summon a dragon or something.”

Fenrir lifted its head as if offended.

Luton vibrated in amusement.

Damien couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “If I needed a dragon, I’d bring one.” He had something similar but had refused to reveal it. Skylar.

Seliah stumbled at the nonchalant tone. “I—I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Damien nodded. “Probably for the best.”

They continued.

As they walked, merchants glanced nervously at Fenrir but parted instantly when they saw Seliah’s insignia and the relaxed way Damien carried himself. Children gawked openly. Some whispered.

“He’s so calm…”

“Is that a wolf? Or something else?!”

“The slime is staring at me! Tell it to stop!”

Damien ignored the attention.

Seliah seemed to warm up slightly after the initial nerves faded. “Is traveling with beasts like these always normal for you?”

“It is,” Damien answered. “It’s more unusual for me to be without them.”

Seliah nodded slowly. “It must be… lonely, sometimes.”

Damien’s steps paused.

He didn’t look at her, but something in his posture shifted.

“…Not as much as it used to be,” he said quietly.

Fenrir walked closer.

Luton leaned against his head.

Seliah instinctively smiled. “I’m glad.”

They reached the heart of the marketplace—a wide plaza bustling with vendors of every craft. The air was thick with scents, shouts, and the rustling of coin purses.

Damien scanned the area. “We’ll start with maps. Then medicinal supplies. Then I’ll need certain travel tools.”

Seliah nodded briskly. “Understood. There are three reliable vendors for maps. Two for alchemy supplies. And several blacksmiths—although the best one has a long queue.”

“That’s fine,” Damien said. “We’ll take them one at a time.”

They moved toward the map stall first.

As they stepped forward, the vendor who was a thin-shouldered man with ink stains all over his hands, looked up and dropped the pen he was holding.

“Ah—ah—G-General’s guest! A-and a tamer! Please, take your time!”

He frantically began pulling out scrolls.

Seliah leaned closer to Damien and whispered, “He’s always like this. Don’t worry.”

Damien wasn’t worried. But the reaction was amusing.

He took several maps, detailed ones covering city routes, wilderness paths, kingdom borders, and older travel lines long abandoned. He examined each carefully.

Not good enough.

He continued scanning.

After nearly ten minutes, he finally found two maps that matched his needs, ones detailing remote regions and dangerous outskirts. It covered the entire Northern Continent and the islands surrounding it.

He paid with a few gold coins.

Next came medicinal supplies. Small vials, herbs, bandages, and powders Luton seemed very interested in. The slime had to be scolded twice to stop absorbing random items.

“…Don’t eat that,” Seliah said weakly, as Luton tried to consume a packet of powdered flame resin.

Luton wobbled as if sulking.

Fenrir made a deep sound of agreement with Seliah.

Damien bought everything quickly and efficiently.

After the third shop, Seliah finally asked.

“You’re preparing for something dangerous, aren’t you?”

Damien didn’t answer right away.

He tied the last pouch onto his belt.

Then lifted his gaze to the distant horizon—beyond the city walls, beyond the faint mountain line.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Something very dangerous.”

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