Chapter 19: The Value of Stone
“...What is this...?”
Groln raised his brow, paused in thought, and his face showed some surprise.
Seeing his reaction, Gauss knew he had asked the right person.
Actually, when he took out this unknown stone, Gauss was hoping Groln’s wide experience might help—perhaps even if it wasn’t metal, he’d seen something like it.
“This is a Life Magic Stone. I’m not entirely sure of its quality—after all, I’m just a blacksmith, not a gem expert. As for price, you could probably sell it for over two gold coins?”
“Two gold coins!!”
Before Gauss could speak, Marin next to him wore a “Did I hear that right?” expression.
Two gold coins equaled 200 silver coins, or 20,000 copper coins.
For ordinary people, it was absolutely a fortune, given that Gauss only had 5 silver and 12 copper in his pouch.
This meant Gauss’s former dream—buying his own house in Graystone Town—could be realized instantly, with money left over.
If converted to wages, an ordinary unskilled laborer pulling gigs earned about 10 copper per day.
Even as a single man, if he saved 5 copper a day after food and board, that was already extremely hard, not counting clothing or medical expenses.
Even assuming he constantly found work, saving for a full month he’d only accumulate about 150 copper.
To get two gold coins, under ideal conditions with no rest, he’d have to work continuously for 11 years.
Of course, that was pure theoretical math.
In reality, a lowly laborer might never save even a single gold coin in his lifetime.
If you compared value to adventurer gear, the gap became clear.
A set of leather armor cost about 15 silver coins—enough to buy 13 sets with two gold coins.
A set of light scale armor cost 60 silver—so two gold coins could buy three sets.
And full-plate armor?
Well, that was unaffordable—one suit cost 15 gold, roughly equivalent to fifteen town houses.
Don’t think that price is exaggerated—full-plate armor is the real heirloom, the hard currency of this world.
Real estate loses value in wartime, but well-crafted armor doesn’t—it may even appreciate.
Knowing the value of two gold coins, Marin couldn’t help but exclaim in front of Groln, then looked at Gauss with envy.
Gauss was equally shocked inside, but kept a calm expression.
He had already guessed this stone was valuable, but didn’t expect it to be so pricey.
Seeing Marin’s eyes brimming with envy and jealousy, he felt a touch of smug satisfaction.
In past memories, Marin had treated him decently and chatted freely, but Gauss sensed a condescending pity underneath.
It wasn’t obvious, but Marin’s words and actions sometimes revealed a high‐and‐mighty stance—like a city slicker asking about rural life just to flaunt his superiority.
But Marin wasn’t a bad person.
Now, it seemed the tables had turned between them.
Gauss pressed his lips together.
It seemed this other world also had that saying: “Afraid your brother lives poorly, and afraid he ends up with a Land Rover.”
“If you want to sell it, go to Widow’s Lane. There’s a stone house with a sign reading ‘Thorn Cottage.’ The shop owner there buys magical items. Of course, if you know other knowledgeable buyers, you can deal directly with them too.”
Groln shrugged.
Two gold coins were a fortune for an ordinary person, but to him, it was nothing.
His earlier surprise wasn’t due to the Life Magic Stone itself, but at seeing a raw, inexperienced, low‑level adventurer like Gauss produce such a “good find.”
In fact, Gauss’s pile of second‑hand weapons and loot had already exceeded Groln’s expectations.
“All right, thank you, shopkeeper.”
Gauss was full of gratitude.
He had no connections now—Groln was the most worldly person he knew.
“Shopkeeper, may I presumptuously ask something else?” Gauss hesitated, embarrassed.
He felt that by asking so many questions, he didn’t seem like someone selling something, but rather someone extracting information.
“Go ahead,” Groln didn’t mind.
“Do you know about professionals? I’d like to know how to become a mage‑professional.”
Upon hearing the question, Groln’s gaze toward Gauss gained a curious edge.
Being able to ask that specific question revealed a lot.
A normal person wouldn’t specifically ask about the mage profession unless they were sure they had magical talent.
How to confirm it?
Naturally, by awakening magical energy and mastering spells.
Thinking this, he understood more.
No wonder Gauss had brought so much loot—if he was already on the path toward becoming a professional, such gains were still a bit exaggerated, but not unbelievable.
“Come with me.”
Groln glanced at Marin, who was straining to listen, then said to Gauss and turned into the back yard.
“So biased, shopkeeper.”
Gauss whispered a complaint under his breath, glancing at Marin’s unhappy face and secretly smiling.
In the courtyard, apprentices at several forges were hammering and forging vigorously.
The crisp clangs of hammer on anvil were sharp enough to hurt one’s ears after a while.
Groln opened a small room.
Although Gauss had worked in the forge for a short time, this was his first time entering Groln’s restroom.
Upon entering, Gauss looked around instinctively.
Soon his gaze was drawn to a full suit of plate armor next to the bed.
It was a complex yet powerfully aesthetic heavy armor comprised of dozens of pieces, linked precisely via hinges, straps, and rivets.
Its silvery surface, a pointed helm with decorative cheek guards, and a chestplate shaped like an inverted hull, with a central ridge resembling a shark fin or frozen wave, refracting a cold metallic gleam.
Overlapping, scale‑like pauldrons, back‑of‑hand guards, steel gauntlets, and cold, hard battle boots.
So beautiful…
Although this set lacked gilding, silver‑inlay, or ornate patterns, it emanated a minimalist yet practical brutal aesthetic.
If a regular full-plate was worth at least fifteen houses, this suit tucked away in the shopkeeper’s room might be worth fifty!
That was Gauss’s instinctive valuation, and the longer he observed it, the more he was convinced of its great value.
Compared with the “cheap goods” outside, this armor’s material quality was distinctly superior.
Shopkeeper, you’re definitely a master, aren’t you?
Gauss’s gaze on Groln carried an ineffable meaning.
“Ahem, don’t look at me like that—I’m just an ordinary blacksmith,” Groln said uncomfortably under that intense gaze.
“But, as is well known, for a qualified blacksmith, it's quite natural to know something about professionals.”
Gauss nodded repeatedly.
The shopkeeper said so—how could he then say otherwise?