The Lich That Open a Shop
Morning returned to Axel in the way it always did—loud, busy, and strangely indifferent to everything that had nearly destroyed it month's ago. Adventurers filled the streets again, armor clanking, weapons slung over shoulders as if Demon Generals attacking the town was just another inconvenience, which is a bother.
The guild hall reopened fully, quest boards were crowded, and merchants shouted prices with renewed enthusiasm. Life moved on fast in Axel. Too fast. He walked beside Kazuma and others through the main street, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but eyes sharp.
The mansion still smelled faintly of dust and old wood, but it was livable now. More importantly, it was theirs. Kazuma kept glancing around like he expected the ground to swallow him whole any second, probably still not used to the idea that his luck had temporarily swung upward.
"So," Kazuma said, breaking the silence, "you feel any different now that you stop training?" Ruko thought about it before answering. He didn't rush his words. He had learned that saying the first thing that came to mind was easy, but saying the right thing took patience.
"I feel… stable enough," he replied. "But not stronger sudden and also not special either. Just less likely to fall apart when things go wrong." Kazuma snorted. "That's a depressing way to describe growth." "It's also an honest one." Kazuma glanced at him, then nodded slightly. "Yeah. Fair."
"Well it's seems we're forgotten." "Yeah seems like we're not even here." "Ooohhh there ignoring me, that's goood!"
They stopped in front of a shop that hadn't been there yesterday. That was the first red flag. At the edge of the main road, something new had appeared and it wasn't impressive. The building was modest, clearly old but recently cleaned. The windows were polished, the door reinforced, and a wooden sign hung above the entrance, its paint slightly uneven but readable: Magic Items & Curios.
It looked like the kind of shop most adventurers would walk past without thinking twice. Wiz stood in front of it, hands folded together, posture stiff with nerves. She bowed politely to everyone who passed. Most ignored her. A few glanced at the sign, hesitated, then moved on.
Kazuma stopped anyway. He stared at the shop for several seconds, eyes narrowing as if calculating how badly this would end. "I don't like it," he said. "Every time something new shows up in this town, my life will also gets worse."
Aqua crossed her arms immediately. "What's an undead doing here. I told you. Undead are bad luck." "I'm standing right here," Wiz said softly, smiling apologetically. Megumin leaned closer, examining the sign with interest.
"Opening a shop in Axel takes courage. Or recklessness, but what type of treasures in there." Darkness nodded seriously. "Facing economic failure head-on is a trial worthy of admiration."
Ruko stayed quiet. He wasn't looking at Wiz. His attention was on the structure itself—the doorframe, the foundation stones, the faint but steady mana flow reinforcing the building. The magic wasn't aggressive or unstable. It was carefully layered, restrained, built by someone who understood how easily power could go wrong in way.
"This place is quite stable," Ruko said at last. "You didn't cut corners right." Wiz looked surprised, then relieved. "No but thank you. I wanted it to be safe. Uhh ..please come inside." Inside, the shop was neatly arranged. Shelves held rings, scrolls, potions, and artifacts, each labeled in careful handwriting.
Some items radiated noticeable magical pressure, while others felt harmless. Kazuma picked up a ring and squinted at the tag. "'Minor curse. Causes bad luck,'" he read. "Why would anyone wanna buy this?"
"It's discounted and i thought they would want it," Wiz said quickly. Aqua smacked it out of his hand. "Absolutely not." Despite Wiz's effort, business was slow. One adventurer entered, saw Aqua, screamed something about undead conspiracies, and ran out.
Another asked questions, then left without buying anything. Somehow, Kazuma still managed to lose money after agreeing to "test" a mana-efficient heating stone that fizzled out uselessly.
Ruko watched quietly. Wiz wasn't weak or a good entrepreneur. She's careless.
But she didn't understand people, and Axel wasn't kind to those who didn't. As they left get what they want, Megumin glanced back at the shop. "She's not good at this ..right." "Yeah," Ruko replied. "And isolated of not handling a business."
Kazuma sighed. "That never ends well."
Back at the mansion that evening, exhaustion finally caught up with everyone. Cleaning supplies were scattered across rooms still half-unusable, and arguments broke out over who had done the least work.
Kazuma claimed the bath first, locking himself inside with a sigh of relief.
"Finally. Peace." The door slid open. Megumin stepped inside, already complaining. "You're taking too long—"
She froze. Kazuma froze.
They stared at each other in silence.
"I was here first," Kazuma said weakly.
Megumin crossed her arms. "I need my mana to recover." Kazuma clutched the towel tighter. "I am very clearly using the bath."
Megumin stepped closer, unimpressed. "Then give up the towel." Before Kazuma could scream again, the door slid open. Ruko walked in, paused, and blinked once. The room went dead silent. Kazuma screamed. Megumin screamed louder—and promptly fainted again.
Ruko calmly grabbed a towel from the rack. "Lock the door next time."
Kazuma collapsed against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "Why are you like this when going to the bath bro?" "I don't panic over things that don't matter and slightly i don't care," Ruko replied, completely serious.
Later, when the noise had died down and Aqua finished yelling at everyone involved, the mansion finally settled into uneasy quiet. Ruko sat alone near the open window, the cool night air brushing against his skin.
His body still hurt. Healing magic had fixed the surface damage, but deeper strain lingered. Fatigue clung to him in ways he couldn't shake. Training helped a little. But rest didn't since he took it too far in simulation space.
He thought about the fight with Beldia. About Lumy. About the thing he'd taken from the scorched ground without fully understanding it. And about himself.
He had survived. He had grown stronger—not slightly. But the path ahead wasn't clear.
Strength alone wasn't purpose. Somewhere beyond Axel, beyond this peaceful illusion, something was coming. He could feel it—not as a threat, but as an inevitability.
Ruko exhaled slowly. "If I'm here," he muttered to himself, "then there has to be a reason." The night didn't answer.
But tomorrow would.