Gron raised a brow, examining the stone carefully. After a moment of thought, a flicker of surprise crossed his face.
Seeing his reaction, Gauss immediately knew—he’d asked the right person.
He hadn’t been sure, of course. The stone wasn’t metal, so it was a gamble bringing it here. But Gron was experienced—he’d probably come across all sorts of things in his line of work.
“It’s a Life Mana Stone,” Gron finally said. “I can’t speak for its exact quality—I’m a blacksmith, not a gem appraiser. But value-wise? Probably worth over two gold coins.”
Before Gauss could respond, Marlin nearly shouted, face frozen in disbelief.
Two gold coins. That’s 200 silver or 20,000 copper.
For a regular person, that was an unimaginable sum. Gauss had just over five silver coins to his name. Two gold coins could buy a house in Grayrock—and still leave change.
To put it into perspective: a day laborer, if lucky enough to find work, might earn 10 copper coins per day.
Subtract food, rent, and other costs, and saving just 5 copper a day would already be difficult—not to mention clothes, medicine, or emergencies.
Even assuming perfect conditions and no rest, it would take 11 years to save two gold coins.
Realistically? Most laborers wouldn’t save even one in their entire lives.
And in terms of adventuring gear...
A full set of leather armor costs around 15 silver coins—you could buy 13 sets with two gold.
A light scale mail suit costs 60 silver—you could buy three.
As for full plate armor? Forget it. That goes for a whopping 15 gold coins—as much as 15 houses in Grayrock.
Not really. Full plate is the equivalent of a generational heirloom in this world—the ultimate hard currency.
Property can lose value in war. Armor like that? It only goes up.
So yes, knowing what two gold coins are worth, it’s no wonder Marlin couldn’t contain his shock. He stared at Gauss like he was made of solid gold himself.
Gauss, meanwhile, was shaken inside—but kept his expression calm.
He’d already guessed the green stone was valuable. He just didn’t realize it was that valuable.
Seeing the jealousy practically leaking from Marlin’s eyes, he couldn’t help feeling a tiny flicker of smug satisfaction.
Back when they worked together, Marlin had always treated him decently. Better than most, at least. But Gauss had noticed the pity behind the friendly tone. That condescending edge, like a city kid asking a peasant what it's like living without plumbing.
It wasn’t mean-spirited. Just there.
Now? The roles had flipped.
Gauss suppressed a smile.
Seems like some things never change—even in another world. People envy you when you're struggling, and they envy you more when you succeed.
“If you’re planning to sell it,” Gron continued, “head to Widow’s Alley. Look for a stone house with a thorn emblem. The owner deals in magic-related goods.”
“Of course, if you know any private collectors or buyers, you can try a direct deal too.”
To Gron, two gold coins wasn’t much. He wasn’t surprised by the stone’s value—he was surprised that Gauss, a rookie adventurer, had brought it in.
Honestly, just the pile of secondhand weapons Gauss had sold earlier had already been a surprise.
“Thanks, Master Gron,” Gauss said sincerely.
He didn’t know anyone more knowledgeable than this man.
Then, after a brief pause—
“Would it be alright if I asked a few more questions?”
He felt a little embarrassed. It was starting to feel like he was here more to gather intel than to sell loot.
“Go ahead,” Gron replied without hesitation.
“Do you know anything about how to become a ‘professional’ adventurer? I’m trying to figure out how to become a mage—like, officially.”
At that, Gron looked at him more closely. There was something thoughtful in his gaze now—like he was re-evaluating what he was seeing.
Just asking that question already said a lot.
Most people wouldn’t be so specific. Not unless they already knew they had magical potential.
And if he’d awakened mana… and learned to cast?
It all made sense now.
That would explain the loot. The confidence. The subtle shift in presence.
“Come with me,” Gron said simply.
He glanced at Marlin—who had clearly been eavesdropping—then turned and walked toward the courtyard out back.
“Tch. That’s not fair, boss...”
Marlin pouted under his breath, his whole face spelling jealousy.
Gauss shot him a sideways grin and followed.
In the forge yard, apprentices worked feverishly at their anvils. The rhythmic hammering rang out loud and sharp, like a constant bell tolling across the courtyard.
Gron pushed open a small wooden door.
Gauss had worked here briefly—but he’d never been in the back rooms before.
This was Gron’s personal quarters.
He stepped in and instinctively looked around.
His eyes were instantly drawn to a suit of full plate armor standing by the bed.
A masterpiece of craftsmanship. Dozens of interlocking parts, joined together with rivets, belts, and hinges. A design that screamed power and precision.
The silvered plates gleamed in the light. The helmet flared outward into sculpted cheek guards. The chest plate, curved like an inverted ship’s hull, rose into a ridge that looked like a shark fin—or a frozen wave.
The layered pauldrons looked like dragon scales. Steel gauntlets, hardened boots—every part was elegant but brutal.
No gold filigree. No flashy carvings.
Just pure, functional power.
If a regular suit of plate armor was worth 15 houses… this one?
That was Gauss’s gut feeling—and the longer he looked, the more sure he was.
It didn’t even look like the same metal as the ones outside.
“You’re no ordinary blacksmith, are you?”
Gauss’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Ahem. Don’t give me that look,” Gron coughed, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable.
“I’m just a blacksmith now. That’s all.”
He scratched his chin, then added:
“But hey, everyone knows—any decent smith should at least know something about professionals, right?”
Gauss nodded eagerly.
If the master says so, who was he to argue?