“And the Allied Worlds refused,” Reidar guessed.

“They said it was impossible,” Garran nodded. “They said the coordinates were impossible to figure out, among the many things, and your friends didn’t take it well.”

Reidar could imagine it.

“So, you have no idea where they are?” Reidar asked again.

“No,” Garran said. “They went rogue and aren’t with the Phalanx anymore, and obviously they aren’t with the Church either, which means they’re operating independently.”

“You really have no idea?”

“We don’t. We only know they are trying to reach Kingsgate since they said so themselves, but aside from that there is no information about them.”

Reidar paused. Maybe they were already in Kingsgate.

“Is there a chance they already got in?” Reidar asked.

Garran shook his head. “It’s unlikely. The number of monsters around Kingsgate is insane. Even for them, it would be impossible. I don’t doubt they are strong, but without a heavy hitter… without you… getting past the monsters is simply impossible. The World-Carver Behemoth has attracted other high-level creatures to the area. Breaking through the perimeter has proven impossible for… well, everyone but the Aegis Phalanx, and even they can hardly pass through.”

Reidar looked at the map on the wall. Kingsgate was circled in red marker.

“I need to send them a message,” Reidar said. “Do you have a way to do it through the vendor network?”

Garran hesitated. “The network is not… exactly designed for personal communications.”

“Keep your ears open,” Reidar said. “If they show up at a vendor, if they sell loot, if they buy potions, you let me know and find a way to let them know I’m back and to come to Sweetwater.”

“I can do that,” Garran said.

“Good.”

“For a fee…” He gave him a fake smile.

Reidar mentally sighed.

“You’ll get your fee,” Reidar said. “I’m going to buy enough from you to put your kids through college.”

Garran grinned. It was a genuine smile this time. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The vendor nodded and turned to look at his system’s interface. His webbed fingers tapped across the surface only he could see, inputting data into the system.

“It is done. The notification will reach all vendor stations within twenty-four hours.”

“Good,” Reidar said. “Now I need supplies. Skills and equipment suitable for my level.”

The vendor turned back to face Reidar, and his expression shifted to something between resignation and apology.

“Skills and equipment at your level,” the vendor said. “That is… complicated.”

“Why?” Reidar asked. “Shouldn’t finding goods be easy in an intergalactic trade market?”

The vendor sighed.

“Level 557 is exceptionally high for everyone. In fact, it exceeds the level of most survivors in the recorded system.” The vendor’s tentacles twitched.

“Those who reach such heights usually improve their professions and skills. They rarely sell those skills to the vendor network, and most of the times they make their own gear.”

Reidar frowned.

On Earth, most survivors were still struggling to reach level 300. The handful who had pushed past level 300 were leaders of major factions or exceptional individuals who had found unique ways to speed up their growth. If they were not from the church, of course.

Reidar understood the logic. These people had spent years refining their fighting style so their skills could evolve in the best way possible to suit them. Selling those skills meant handing everyone the easy path to what they’d bled for.

“So you have nothing?” Reidar asked.

“I did not say that.” He paused.

“The vendor network maintains a catalogue of all skills that have been offered for sale across the Allied Worlds. Some high-tier skills are available, though they are rare and expensive. I must warn you, however, that you should expect nothing exceptional.”

Reidar nodded. “Show me what you have for summoners.”

The vendor’s fingers danced across the tablet. A holographic interface appeared, displaying a list of skill options.

“Summoning skills at your tier range are harder to find than combat skills,” the vendor said. “Few civilizations developed summoning traditions, and even fewer of those skills have entered the market.”

“What about equipment then?” Reidar asked. “Gear that improves summoning abilities.”

“I can’t,” Garran said again. The vendor’s expression grew even more apologetic.

“That is where the difficulty increases. Summoners are a minority among survivors. Most people prefer direct damage skills or defensive abilities. Equipment designed for summoners is rare, and high-tier summoner equipment is virtually nonexistent in the current market.” He paused.

“Look, usually, when people reach your level, they have maxed out their crafting professions. They build their own god-tier sets. What are your levels?”

Reidar listed them. “Tailoring 401. Woodworking 423. Enchanting 507.”

The vendor, in truth, knew that. He asked just because he wanted Reidar to realize the problem.

Garran whistled. “Those are high. Very high for a human. But for Level 557 people? They aren’t enough. Especially Tailoring. You need Level 550+ proficiency to work with the materials that would actually improve your attributes. Anything I sell you would be a downgrade.”

“I have money,” Reidar said. “Check the internal market. The vendor network… Whatever. Someone must have something put on sale, right?”

“It might be, but I guarantee you that anything falling in that level range will be expensive,” Garran said.

<That tracks with what I’ve seen.>

On Earth, Reidar had been the one who popularized summoning skills. Before him, most survivors had focused on combat skills that let them fight directly. His success had inspired others to try summoning, but even then, it remained a niche path.

“What about mage equipment?” Reidar asked. “If you can’t find summoner-specific gear, find me something that boosts magical abilities in general.”

The vendor nodded. “That is more reasonable. Mage equipment is common across the Allied Worlds, and high-tier sets appear in the market occasionally. But I will tell you this: Even I don’t have the kind of money to buy such high-level gear; you have to pay upfront, or I won’t be able to buy anything.”

“How much?”

“Millions,” Garran said. “For a full set? Maybe a hundred million Survival Points.”

Reidar opened his interface. He selected the transfer option.

He typed in 150,000,000.

He authorized the transfer to Garran’s ID. Garran looked at his console, his eyes bulging as his jaw dropped. Survival points were some of the few things vendors could not see from a target status, and that was to avoid them exploiting the survivors.

“One hundred and fifty…” He choked. “Where did you get this?”

“I killed many things,” Reidar said. “Is it enough?”

“It’s… yes,” Garran stammered.

“Consider this payment in advance,” Reidar said. “Search the vendor network for summoning skills and summoner equipment; if you can’t find them, get me something for mages. Prioritize anything that improves summon strength, summon durability, or mana regeneration.”

The vendor stared at the survival points.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep