Chapter 1072: 1071: A Proper Wardrobe

Conversation returned as they ate.

Tavian described a merchant who had tried selling Zarven the same painting twice. Neris insisted the second frame made it a different purchase, and Simon asked whether the merchant had charged extra for it.

Zarven laughed.

"He did. Quite confidently."

"Did you buy it?"

"My husband spent half an hour bargaining over the price," Maelis said.

"So you did buy it?"

Zarven cleared his throat.

"It was an excellent frame."

Occasionally, Maelis looked between them, seemingly surprised by how easily their guest had joined the conversation.

Simon was a little surprised himself.

He ate, listened, and found himself smiling without thinking about it. Nobody asked about his age again or pressed him to explain his strength. For a while, they were simply a family sharing food and teasing one another.

Their troubles hadn’t disappeared, but sitting here felt peaceful.

He could get used to this.

It reminded him of how families without trouble on Earth used to converse during family meals.

After the meal, Zarven dismissed the formation, and the sisters rose.

"We’ll change before leaving," Seraya said.

Neris looked at Simon’s robe.

"So will you."

"What’s wrong with this?" Simon asked with raised brows.

"You’re our guest. You cannot walk beside us dressed like a beggar."

His lips twitched.

Seraya summoned two female servants.

"Find him something suitable. Make sure he looks presentable."

Maelis chuckled behind her fan. Zarven shook his head and gave Simon a look of sympathy.

Tavian continued drinking his wine.

Not one of them offered to help.

Soon, Simon stood before a mirror while the servants straightened his collar and adjusted his cuffs. He had changed into a black tunic, dark trousers, and a silver-edged coat. His white hair was tied back beneath his four horns.

The women tried to add a jeweled chain.

"No."

Simon immediately refused.

They exchanged disappointed glances.

When he rejoined the sisters, Seraya wore a fitted dark-green coat with silver clasps. Neris had chosen a lavender dress, though the blue butterfly remained in her hair.

"Much better," Neris said.

Simon decided not to ask what she had thought before.

They left beneath the crimson moon.

Amber lamps lit the streets, their reflections trembling across dark canals. Merchants bowed as the sisters passed, and even demons from other races stepped aside to greet them.

"Lady Seraya. Lady Neris."

Then their attention shifted toward Simon.

"Who is he?"

"Look at those four horns."

"And his face…"

A young demoness admired how his coat fitted his broad shoulders. Her companion hurriedly pulled her aside when Neris glanced their way with a dangerous light in her eyes.

Neris moved closer to him.

"The western gardens are this way."

"The canal gallery is closer," Seraya said.

"We can see both," Simon suggested before this turned to something that would give him a headache.

The sisters looked at each other.

"Of course," Neris replied.

The gardens held trees with silver blossoms that chimed when the wind touched them. Purple flowers climbed white arches, and small bridges crossed pools so dark they reflected the lamps like scattered gems.

Simon paused beneath a flowering branch.

"This is beautiful."

Neris smiled proudly.

"I told you."

At the canal gallery, water rose through golden rings suspended above a fountain. It briefly formed birds and leaping fish before falling back into the basin.

A nearby attendant bowed, then discreetly covered the formation controls.

Simon noticed.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, honored guest."

Seraya glanced at her sister.

"Neris once made the fish jump onto passing merchants."

"They were made of water."

"Their ledgers were made of paper."

Simon chuckled.

Neris hurried them toward the next bridge.

Later, Seraya led them into a broad training courtyard. Beyond rows of practice posts stood several enclosed dueling platforms.

A horned demon swung a heavy axe at a Daegrin carrying twin blades. Sparks scattered against a transparent barrier as spectators shouted from cushioned seats.

High grade Hell Stones filled trays beside the betting attendants.

One merchant lost an entire chest of high grade hell stones and merely asked for another drink.

Another put down a jeweled bracelet to cover his next wager. The attendant weighed it, nodded, and announced the bet.

Simon stared at the scene with a slight twitch of his lips.

Apparently, some people came here to watch a duel. Others came to casually throw away fortunes.

Seraya mistook his attention.

"Would you like to try?"

"The betting?"

"The platform."

"No," Neris answered for him. "We’re showing him the city, not making him fight it."

"I asked him."

"And he has better things to do."

Simon watched the Daegrin slip beneath the axe.

"I’m quite happy watching."

He decided not to fight and just enjoy the peace and fun.

He rarely had days like this, and since he knew that he would soon be engaged in a dangerous battle, why fight and potentially make enemies.

They stayed until the bout ended, then continued through streets lined with shops.

Neris pointed out an artifact dealer. Seraya suggested a weapons hall.

"Do you need a sword? Armour?"

Simon shook his head.

"I have what I need."

The Chaos Wraps left him little choice. Other weapons were useless to him and he had the Chaos Blade. Armour was out of the question too.

Unless he wanted the armours he wore to turn to ashes.

Besides, the prices here were ridiculous.

Even a box of sweets cost enough to make him check the sign twice.

Living comfortably in Vhal-Sar clearly required wealth.

Neris followed his gaze toward a clothing shop.

"We should get you a proper wardrobe."

"I have clothes."

"More like the robe you arrived in?" Seraya asked.

His lips twitched again.

Apparently, they considered his wardrobe an emergency.

———

Lethra’s Tailoring Shop stood beside a canal, its windows displaying garments on slowly turning figures.

"The best tailor in Vhal-Sar," Neris declared.

An assistant hurried to open the door. Inside, employees abandoned their work long enough to bow, visibly startled to see both sisters.

An ash-grey woman wearing thin gold spectacles emerged from behind a curtain.

"Lady Seraya. Lady Neris. Welcome."

Her eyes moved toward Simon.

"This is Blackmoon, our guest," Seraya said. "He needs clothes made for him."

"Something worthy of him," Neris added.

Lethra smiled.

"Certainly."

Assistants recorded his measurements while the sisters examined the displays.

Neris touched a deep-blue coat.

"This one?"

"It has high defensive capabilities and it can withstand one physical strike from a Minor Demon King," Lethra replied. "The defensive formation must be restored afterward."

Seraya inspected another garment.

"And this?"

"Resistance to fire and extreme heat. The fabric is difficult to burn. We also have cold-resistant sets."

She lifted a grey mantle. Against the wall, its colour shifted until Simon could barely distinguish its edges.

"For concealment. And that tunic increases demonic energy absorption."

The sisters looked ready to select everything.

"I don’t need those," Simon said.

Neris lowered the coat.

"Then what do you need?"

"Ordinary clothes?" Seraya asked.

He considered that.

Battles had left him shirtless or wearing scraps more times than he cared to remember. Defensive clothing would conflict with the Chaos Wraps, but something that repaired its own fabric…

"Do you have clothes that restore themselves after being damaged?"

Lethra nodded slowly.

"How much damage?"

"Cuts. Missing pieces. Being burned apart. I don’t need them to stop attacks. I just want them to restore themselves quickly."

She thought for a moment.

"We do have something."

Lethra returned carrying a charcoal robe with narrow silver stitching along its collar.

"Try this. Feed a little energy into it, and it will adjust to your body."

Simon stepped behind a changing screen.

The fabric settled around his shoulders as he supplied it with demonic energy. Its sleeves shortened slightly, leaving his wrapped hands free, while the waist drew inward.

The Chaos Wraps remained still.

There were no defensive formations. Nothing hardened over his skin. It was simply clothing.

He stepped out.

Neris’s smile widened.

"That suits you."

"Better without the belt," Seraya said. "Turn around."

He did.

Lethra adjusted the collar.

"With your hair and complexion, this colour works beautifully."

Simon looked at his reflection. The robe fitted closely enough to show his broad frame without restricting his movements. He raised both arms, then lifted one sleeve.

"May I test it?"

"Please."

A thin blade of demonic energy formed along two fingers.

He drew it down his sleeve.

The long cut opened easily. Almost immediately, fine threads reached across the gap, joining until the tear disappeared.

Simon rubbed the repaired section.

Not even a seam remained.

"How does it do that?"

"Regrowth silk woven with fine Mendvine fibres," Lethra explained. "Your energy maintains its pattern. Missing fabric grows back."

"And if the entire robe is destroyed?"

"Once bound to you, it can reform from that pattern. It needs more energy than closing a cut, naturally."

Simon’s interest sharpened.

"But don’t mistake it for protection," she continued. "A Fiend’s strike can damage it. So can a Refined Artifact."

Refined Artifacts were weapons or artifacts made for Fiends.

That was poor durability indeed.

"You would have to shield it with your own demonic energy to prevent it from getting damaged."

"That’s fine."

He would protect himself. The robe only needed to keep him dressed afterward.

"It does grow sturdier," Lethra added. "Repeated damage and prolonged exposure to your energy gradually improve the fibres."

"How quickly?"

"Slowly. Very slowly."

She smiled apologetically.

"Most customers prefer to buy something that protects them immediately. This has remained here for quite some time."

Simon flexed his arm.

There was no stiffness, no resistance.

Growth was a pleasant addition. He was more interested in no longer looking as though he had crawled out of a rubbish heap after every battle.

"I’ll take it."

He turned toward Lethra.

"How-"

"How much?" Neris asked.

"Fifty thousand High grade Hell Stones."

Simon almost coughed out a mouthful of spit and he stared at her with wide eyes.

’Fifty thousand high grade hell stones for a robe that can not even withstand the attacks of a Fiend?’

’The fuck?!’

Simon recalled the auction he attended in the land of the Frostborns.

The rich there had spent over a million intermediate hell stones on items that were definitely more valuable than this robe.

Not a single one would ever pay fifty thousand high grade hell stones for a robe like this?!

Not even Simon!!!

’Wait… can I even pay for it?’

Just as Simon had this thought, Neris spoke.

"I’ll pay."

Simon looked at her with slightly wide eyes.

He asked just to be sure he hadn’t heard wrong.

"Are you serious?"

Neris nodded with a smile.

"Of course. You’re our guest."

Simon’s opened to speak and say something else, but he couldn’t.

"Thank you."

This was all he could say.

Neris beamed.

"You’re welcome."

She then reached for her spatial ring in order.

Simon saw Seraya looking at her sister, and he noticed that her attention was fixed on Neris.

A moment later, Neris completed the payment.

"Thank you," Simon said once again.

Neris waved her hand dismissively.

"It’s not a big deal. You’re our guest and you might not have such money on you so I can’t allow you to be embarrassed."

Simon’s lips could not help but twitch and a vein appeared on his temple.

’This family makes me feel like a pauper.’

As he stared at Neris, he noticed that she looked entirely too pleased with herself.

Seraya turned toward the assistants.

"Bring that dark-red coat. The black tunics too. And the grey set."

Simon stared as garments began accumulating on the counter.

"Seraya?"

"You can’t wear the same thing everywhere."

"This repairs itself."

"It doesn’t decide what is appropriate for dinner."

She selected several plain but finely made outfits, rejecting anything with defensive formations after Simon reminded her that he didn’t need those.

"These are for different occasions."

Lethra’s smile grew warmer with every selection.

More money into her pocket.

Seraya paid before Simon could object again.

While the assistants adjusted the other garments to his measurements, Simon finished binding the charcoal robe to himself. Eventually, he accepted the wrapped purchases with a strange expression.

"Thank you as well."

"There’s no need to thank me."

Neris folded her arms.

Simon looked from one sister to the other.

He had come here expecting to spend money.

Apparently, accepting gifts required considerable effort too.

Lethra and her assistants escorted them to the entrance, bowing as they left.

Outside, Simon stored the additional clothes in his spatial ring.

Neris pointed across the canal.

"The lantern walk is nearby. You haven’t seen the floating flower gardens either."

"The upper terrace has a better view," Seraya said.

Simon looked at the two paths.

"We still have time for both."

Neris took the lead, already describing the gardens.

"There’s a shorter route," Seraya pointed out.

"Through the service passage."

"It reaches the same place."

"He came to see Vhal-Sar, Sister. Not its delivery doors."

Simon laughed and followed them across the next bridge, listening as they argued over which sight he should see first.

He was truly having a type of fun that he rarely had.

’Who knew I would have such fun in the land of the Daegrins.’

Simon could not help but smile.