Aiko blinked in disbelief.
"Care to repeat that?"
Jericho leaned forward, arms folded over the sword.
"One gold coin. Just one. And this treasure is yours. No loan, no return. Completely yours."
Even Hilda's ever-neutral expression shifted slightly, her reptilian eyes narrowing. Interest, maybe.
In this world, currency followed a simple tiered system: bronze, silver, and gold.
A bronze coin could get you a simple meal. A silver coin? Decent supplies, maybe a clean room at an inn. But a gold coin, that was serious money. One gold could buy quality gear... Without enchanting of course, just weapons and armors of good quality, rare reagents, or pay rent in the city for a whole week.
Celestia Academy students received a monthly stipend of ten gold coins to cover essentials and missions.
Jericho smirked. He knew she had the money.
Aiko crossed her arms, clearly uncertain.
"That sounds like a scam."
"Woman," Jericho said, sighing like a tired merchant. "What do you want? You asked. I gave you a price. I'm not forcing you."
Marielle stepped in, adjusting her glasses.
"Why money? If this is really so rare, why not keep it?"
Jericho shrugged.
"Because I got kicked out, remember? I have no money, no support, and no food that doesn't taste like despair. Survival comes first. If I can sell a sword and not starve this week, that's a win."
Hilda stepped forward, arms behind her back.
"It's highly suspicious for someone to part with something so powerful."
Jericho gave her a smile.
"Oh, I'm not worried. You see—"
He paused for dramatic effect.
"—I can make another."
All three girls stiffened.
"You what?" Aiko asked.
"I can enchant weapons," he said casually. "So yeah. Losing one doesn't bother me."
Their silence was thick.
That sort of power wasn't just rare, it was unprecedented.
While they were having their internal crisis, Jericho triumphed internally.
Now, I know what you're thinking.
"Why the hell would you reveal that?! Keep it secret, improve in silence, rise in the shadows!"
Yeah, yeah. I get it. If I was aiming to be the next Hero, I'd hide my cards too. But let's be real... I'm not that guy. I don't have a blessing except crafting gears, I don't have a power-up arc. I'm not some long-lost prince with a dragon tattoo.
I'm a civilian. A background extra, and even though I can make legendary weapons, it's pointless against someone with instant kill abilities.
Even if I had the best weapon in the world, I'd still get one-shot by plot armor.
But if I sell the best weapon in the world? Over and over again?
Now we're talking.
More crafting = more stats. More stats = better gear. Better gear = higher prices.
And who's gonna need those weapons more than anyone?
That's right. Shin. Let's not forget that in this world, he is the insurance that everything will be alright, that we will all be alive at the end of the storyline.
But now, he doesn't have the tools he needs to succeed... And this is when selling weapons comes in the balance.
I'll craft the weapons he canonically needs. I'll sell them to him. The story continues, he wins, I profit.
Everybody wins.
It's perfect.
Jericho smirked at Aiko.
"Look, if it matters so much to you, just know this, I'll make another. This one's not special. Not anymore."
Aiko looked stunned.
"You can really do that...?"
"Sure. But not right now. Used up all my energy. Hammering magic into steel isn't exactly a spa day."
She groaned.
"Ugh... fine. One gold. But if you're scamming me—"
Jericho held out his hand.
"Pleasure doing business."
Aiko reluctantly handed over a shining gold coin. He took it like it was the crown jewel of survival.
She picked up the sword, holding it carefully. Her fingers tightened as she felt the hum of enchantment within the blade.
She turned to Marielle and Hilda.
"It's real. I can feel it."
Marielle looked skeptical.
"I still don't know..."
Hilda examined her quietly.
"We'll wait and see how it performs."
With one last glance at Jericho, Hilda turned.
"We're done here. Let's go."
Marielle gave him a small nod. Aiko lingered for a second longer, glancing back at the sword, then finally followed.
Jericho waited until they were out of sight.
Then clenched his fist.
"That's it. That's the plan."
He looked at the gold coin in his hand.
"I survived the Committee... and I sold my first enchanted weapon."
He turned toward his camp, eyes gleaming.
"From now on, I'll use this power to rise. I'll sell to adventurers, nobles, even the hero himself. I'll turn my power into a gold mine."
He raised the coin to the air like a trophy.
"Alchemia... is going to give me a perfect life while the hero will suffer for the plot."
The following days passed in a succession of wood shavings, sweat, and enchantments.
Jericho doubled down on crafting. From the moment the sun crept through the forest canopy to when the stars blinked overhead, he forged, carved, enchanted, and refined.
He made better household tools first. A broom enchanted with Dust Repellent that cleared dirt without touching the ground.
A cooking pot with Heat Retention, so meals stayed warm long after the fire died. A drying rack that emitted a subtle Preservation Field, keeping food from rotting even in humid weather.
His understanding deepened. The effects weren't just random. He learned he could guide enchantments with willpower shaping the result.
With that, he moved back to weapons.
Two daggers:
Shadow Tip: +10 attack, +5 agility, with a 10% chance to silence footsteps.
Flick Fang: +11 attack, +3 agility, with a 20% chance to cause bleeding over time.
A spear:
Thornspike: +14 attack, moderate durability, 10% chance to stagger on impact.
An improved bow:
Windgrove Arc: +9 attack, faster draw speed, enchanted for smoother accuracy.
And arrows:
Piercing Shots (x10): minor bonus to armor penetration.
Whisper Quills (x5): reduced sound upon firing.
He even dismantled part of his hut, rebuilding it with heavier wood and steadier support beams. It now granted:
Buffs: +2 stamina regen per hour, slight HP recovery while resting, and improved sleep quality.
But Jericho didn't stop there.
In his spare time, he traveled deeper into the Evermist Forest. Not too far, just beyond the western moss trail, nestled along the edge of a glade known as Whisperroot Hollow.
There, ancient trees grew with twisting, silver-veined wood. The material shimmered faintly when the wind passed.
Moonwood.
Rare, light. Perfect for enchanted wooden weapons.
He gathered branches with care, loading his crafted satchel.
However, what he couldn't see, from the treetops above, a shadow observed him.
Hilda.
She watched in silence. Arms crossed. A bit of confusion in her gaze.
Jericho, unaware, returned to his forge and set to work.
He was exhausted. He hammered with aching arms, focused eyes, and sweat pouring down his face. He whispered intentions into every swing:
"Savagery. Power. Speed."
He crafted three wooden weapons with special enchantments:
Moonstrike Baton: Safe impact weapon with +10 control and minor mana stabilization.
Driftwood Saber: 2x attack on hit
Trueshot Branch: A training bow with natural accuracy correction, paired with a new arrow type:
Flarebolt Arrow: Deals minor fire damage on impact, ideal for additional effects of setting an apocalypse stage in the forest.
Ghost Fang Dagger: +13 attack, +6 agility, with a 10% increased evasion rate due to enhanced lightness and mana-infused grip.
He was preparing for the Mock Combat Festival, the Academy's first big arc event. An annual bout to showcase student prowess. With real combat banned, students needed wooden training gear.
He smirked.
"Perfect timing."
Then, while crafting a new fishing tool, a wide-frame river net laced with enchanted vines that guided fish toward the center like a funnel, he reflected on his goal.
A house in the city? Too boring.
He didn't want rent. He wanted land.
A whole field. By a lake. Maybe even a cliffside. And on it, he'd build his dream:
Enchanted furniture.
A pool that adjusted temperature.
A rooftop observatory.
A gaming room.
Many more stuff depending on his creativity.
Could he craft games with Alchemia?
Probably. Eventually. And if he couldn't? He'd invent them.
While he contemplated his goal to being the same as his previous life, but in a better situation, behind him, Hilda narrowed her eyes.
He was odd. Different. But... she could not deny his honesty. His focus was real. So she vanished into the woods.
Jericho, wiping his brow, admired his newly made gear.
"Maybe it's time to try accessories and armor."
Then...
"Well, well. The rumors were true. You really are still here. Working like a sweaty little blackmist."
Jericho turned, frowning.
A girl stepped into the clearing.
Elegant. Practical boots. A half-cape over a tailored uniform. Auburn hair tied back, and sharp, hawk-like eyes.
He knew her well.
Clarissa Dorne.
The Silver Broker of Celestia.
One of the minor antagonists of the first arc. A merchant prodigy.