As the sun set below the horizon, the sky was dyed a shade of red, seemingly reflecting the brutal bloodbath that had just concluded on the battlefield below.
Just as the silence enveloped the battlefield, the bustling marketplace started to come alive, humming with activity. The cobblestoned streets were packed with temporary stalls that displayed a wide array of magical items.
Brightly colored banners positioned above these stalls fluttered in the gentle wind, the fancy writings on them indicating to the customers the type of goods that could be found in each stall.
The air was thick with the scent of exotic herbs, old parchment papers, and freshly grilled beast meat, creating an atmosphere that was both exciting and mysterious to mortals and Magi alike.
Over time, the marketplace opening every night had become something that everyone in Stardale looked forward to. After all, during the daytime the atmosphere in the city was tense, so naturally, the people needed something to help them relax and unwind.
One particular stall in the marketplace, nestled between a vendor selling artifacts and another selling magical potions, stood out with its dazzling display of scrolls and tomes.
The banner above this stall read: Magic Spells!
This was one of the few stalls in Stardale that sold spells. Of course, the ones found here were only Rank 1 Spells. As a result, this stall would be always filled with Magi who used their contribution points to buy them.
At the onset of the war, all the arcane organizations and Magus families, big and small, had pooled their resources—including the magic spells in their treasuries—and had them displayed at the various marketplaces across all the cities.
This war, although posed a great risk to the Magi's lives, also gave them boundless opportunities to grow. As long as one had enough contribution points, they would be able to buy items that otherwise would have been unavailable to them at any given time.
As the old saying goes, opportunities have always coexisted with danger.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})Behind the counter, an old lady wearing traditional Magus robes greeted the customers with a warm smile. Her behavior was completely the opposite of the old Pervy Magus that Adam had met a few days ago.
The shelves of this old lady's stall were filled with scrolls of all shapes and sizes, each one containing a different Rank 1 Spell. Most of these spells were readily available in the market during normal times.
However, some of the spells were so rare that they could be considered family heirlooms. Spells that generally were a trademark of a certain Magus Family, were now accessible in this stall.
Of course, the caveat was that such spells were far more expensive than the rest, allowing the Magus families that provided them to earn plenty of contribution points from the Magi.
As customers browsed the selection, the old lady behind the counter offered advice and guidance, explaining the characteristics of each spell and its potential uses.
After standing in a queue for a long time, Adam finally made his way to the counter.
"Young Magus, would you like me to help you?" The old lady asked with a warm smile.
Adam politely refused, "It's alright, ma'am. You can tend to the other customers."
"Okay, here." The old Magus gave the youth a thin tome bound in leather before greeting the other customers.
The pages on the tome were divided into three columns. The first displayed the name of the spell, the second showed the description of the spell, and the last one informed which organization had provided this spell.
This was a good way for the Magus Families to market themselves. After all, the more spells they gave, their contributions to the overall war effort would increase, resulting in them earning more points.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})Moreover, the Magi would also come to greatly respect and look up to these Magus Families.
After all, reputation was also a strength.
Although Adam had a vast number of spells in his mind, he still came here to explore some. The number of spells that existed in this world were innumerable.
Of course, the spells that he had inherited from the memories of the experts were more likely to be far greater than anything Tron had to offer, Adam still decided to check this stall out of curiosity.
He wasn't going to look down upon his world just because its magical civilization was backward compared to the astronomical number of worlds out there in the boundless universe.
After perusing the tome for a few minutes, there were a few spells that the youth found slightly fascinating and hence chose to buy them. Even if he wouldn't outright use them, he could still study them.
Just when he was about to return the book to the old lady, he happened to gaze at a peculiar Rank 1 spell that caught his attention. It wasn't the spell itself that piqued his interest, but its origins.
"Gracie Family!" Adam's eyes narrowed as he softly muttered.
Hmm, come to think of it, that petty bastard shouldn't be participating in this war... unless he somehow managed to regain his missing arm, the youth thought to himself with a cold smile.
But this spell is slightly interesting. He stroked his chin as he read through its details.
Rank 1 Spell: Summon Hellish Flames.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})This spell belonged to the School of Summoning. The caster pointed their finger at a target and the latter would then be surrounded by black flames that were said to be so cruel and agonizing, that after the flames died down, hardly anything was left of the target.
This spell could be considered to be one of the spells that made the Gracie Family gain fame in the Southern Federation.
"Heh, I'll take it just you spite you lot," Adam smirked as he informed the old woman of the spells that he wished to buy.
After making the purchase, he was about to return to his living quarters to practice mindfulness, when all of a sudden he was drawn by a commotion happening nearby.
"You dirty brat!" A middle-aged magus wearing a white cloak kicked a small boy to the ground in anger. "How dare you dirty my clothes?"
The poor boy miserably fell to the ground and the plate of dumplings he was holding onto also fell and was immediately smeared by dirt and mud.
"You meanie." A little girl, seemingly younger than the boy, stood before the Magus with tearful eyes. "Why did you do that?! My brother worked hard to make those—"
"Silence!" The Magus slapped the little girl and reprimanded her, "How dare you talk back to me?!"
Adam, who happened to witness this scene, was sent into a momentary daze as he watched the pieces of dumplings lying on the ground, his eyes flashing with reminiscence as old memories resurfaced in his mind.
He then glanced at the young siblings, sprawling on the ground and crying. Seeing that, his palms involuntarily clenched into fists. Then, he turned his head and looked at the Magus who had raised his hand once again to make an example out of those poor kids.
Adam's heart was bubbling with fury as he saw this scene and the next moment…
He moved.
