Silver-Scaled Breastplate, Five Gold Each!

Who are you trying to fool!

Rick sneered inwardly.

Although he had only been at Saldean Farm for a few days, he had already realized that the half-elf before him was no pushover.

Ordinary people lacked the experience to see Shawn for what he was; at most, they would think Shawn just had slightly pointed ears and a handsome face. But Rick knew very well that Shawn was a half-elf—the product of some unknown elf and human.

Half-elves inherited the advantages of both humans and elves.

While they didn't possess the near-limitless lifespan of elves, living for two or three hundred years was no problem at all.

Even though Shawn looked young, his true age might not be just fifteen or sixteen, so he couldn't be treated like a mere child.

Furthermore, for some reason, ever since the moment he left Saldean Farm a few days ago, Rick had felt that Shawn had become unfathomable—even more so than before. The way this guy looked at him felt too sharp, as if he could see straight through to his soul.

Possessing countless secrets of his own, Rick felt an involuntary sense of wariness toward Shawn.

Rick understood that this half-elf had his own agenda for wanting to get to know a mage.

Hesitating for a moment, Rick said with a troubled expression, "Shawn, this isn't exactly a difficult task... but you know, for certain reasons, I haven't seen that mage in a long time—over half a year. Plus, I've been wandering around, and I hadn't planned on seeking that mage out..."

As he spoke, Rick rubbed his fingers together, making a gesture everyone understood.

Perhaps an average teenager wouldn't know what to do, but how could Shawn not understand?

Money-grubber! Just as greedy as Merry!

Shawn reached into his pocket and, with "great effort," finally fished out three silver coins and over thirty copper coins. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Brother Rick, if you can help me get an introduction to that mage, all this money is yours!"

Seeing the small handful of coins in Shawn's small hand, Rick's eyes lit up.

Three silver coins and thirty-plus copper coins weren't much, but considering Shawn was just a "fifteen-year-old boy" without an independent income, saving up this much was no small feat. Not to mention, this clever boy surely kept the lion's share to offer as a tribute to "that great mage."

And he knew exactly what that lion's share was. The fact that Shawn had received a reward of one gold coin for repairing the Harvest Golem at Furlbrow Farm was known to everyone at Saldean Farm!

Thinking of this, Rick snatched the coins and whispered, "Shawn, leave it to me! Just wait, you'll have good news within three days at most! But don't you dare breathe a word of this to anyone; you can't afford to offend a great mage!"

Shawn quickly replied, "Don't worry, Brother Rick, my lips are sealed! I won't say a single word! Brother Rick, you must help me make my dream come true!"

After leaving Rick, the corners of Shawn's mouth curled up slightly.

Since a person like Rick had known that mage, he must still have a connection to him. Therefore, Shawn had no doubt that Rick could reach him.

As for whether Rick would "take the money and run," Shawn wasn't worried at all.

One gold coin and thirty-plus copper coins was a significant sum for a "boy" like Shawn, but for a drifter like Rick, it was mere pocket change. As for why Rick would help him for such a small amount, that was even easier to understand.

The shifty-eyed Rick was a rogue, so he undoubtedly had some murky connections to the thieving profession. After all, the skills he possessed included lockpicking and pickpocketing. A person like that would never pass up an opportunity to make a little extra coin.

So, Shawn just needed to wait. In three days at most, he would meet that mage.

As for why he was so determined to get to know that mage, Shawn had his own reasons.

Humans were social animals, and mages were no exception.

Although most mages were not very sociable, that was because they pursued truth and knowledge, making them aloof and difficult to relate to. Since Shawn had become a mage, he had to find ways to connect with others of his kind to exchange knowledge and resources. Otherwise, his path as a mage might not lead very far.

Even with his Space Garrison.

With Rick taken care of, Shawn planned to find Old Saldean, hoping to leverage his connections to find a reliable hunter to purchase some leather and stone.

Just as he was passing the only blacksmith shop in Goldshire, Shawn heard a furious roar coming from inside.

"What? Five gold pieces each? Why don't you just rob me! And you call this a Silver-Scaled Breastplate? This is clearly made of murloc scales! I'm telling you, one gold coin at most, or I'm not buying!"

Hearing Gryan's shout, Shawn rolled his eyes and stepped into the shop.

Gryan was standing at the entrance, yelling inside with a face full of rage, looking like an angry... little bird?

A middle-aged blacksmith in his forties stood before a table, holding a hammer and sneering.

On the table lay a shimmering chainmail vest that looked exquisite, as if it were crafted from pure silver. But after Shawn cast an Eye of Insight, the armor revealed its true nature.

"Murloc-Scaled Breastplate, white quality, common gear. Crafted from murloc scales and iron ingots, silver-plated throughout. Defense +4, Water Resistance +1."

What a swindler!

This burly middle-aged blacksmith had actually thought to plate the surface of a murloc-scaled breastplate with silver to make it look like a Silver-Scaled Breastplate, when in reality, it was nothing of the sort.

If it were truly a Silver-Scaled Breastplate crafted from bronze ingots, green agate, moonstone, colored pearls, and silver ingots, Gryan wouldn't have blinked at paying 5 gold—or even 50—because that was authentic blue-quality gear with at least +10 defense!

But this murloc-scaled breastplate, a piece of white common gear, and he wanted to sell it for 5 gold? And he expected to swindle Gryan with it?

Was Gryan really that easy to fool?

The wily old fox had reached out, felt the weight of the chainmail, and realized it was wrong. Then, with a scratch of his fingernail, he had peeled back the silver plating to reveal the scales underneath.

That led to the scene before him.

It was no wonder Gryan was so furious.

He was buying this armor for his soldiers to use against kobolds, murlocs, and Defias bandits. If they wore armor like this, there was no telling how many men would die; this was no laughing matter.