Chapter 52: The Sports Belt

Joan steadied himself, gradually realizing he had slipped into a state akin to "meditation." In this state, whatever he saw before him—if it did not emit light, it meant it had no magical effect; if it radiated with a glow, it indicated the presence of some unknown power.

Pulling a chair over, Joan sat at the workbench and picked up the first pouch of powder, opening it to inspect the black dust that resembled charcoal ash. Instinctively, information about this substance coalesced into a stream of knowledge that poured into his mind.

His expression grew increasingly grim, a nervous spasm tugging at his facial muscles as gloom settled over his heart.

His first attempt at identification had dealt him a harsh blow. The powder in this pouch—he could call it "Desiccant Powder"—possessed extraordinary moisture-absorbing properties. A small packet, if scattered into water, could instantly drain an entire pond, swelling into gelatinous granules once saturated. Moreover, Desiccant Powder could inflict severe harm on water-dwelling or water-elemental creatures, much as holy water was lethal to the undead.

Interesting as this was, Joan could not see how it might benefit him personally. Worse still, the cost of a small packet of Desiccant Powder was far less than the pearl he had used for the identification spell.

Disheartened by this initial setback, Joan took five minutes to compose himself before proceeding to identify the second pouch. Before casting the spell, he silently prayed for the favor of the Lady of Fate, hoping it wouldn't turn out to be another disappointing Desiccant Powder. As luck would have it, the second powder was indeed far better. These lead-gray granules, when sprinkled over the body, granted an effect akin to "Invisibility," hence their name: "Vanishing Powder."

"This time, luck is on my side," Joan murmured with a smile. With both Vanishing Powder and Desiccant Powder, the combined value now exceeded three hundred gold ducats. Regardless of the belt's outcome, he was assured a profit.

Fortune, it seemed, often ran counter to one's expectations. The greater the anticipation, the deeper the disappointment; yet when hope was scarce, surprises tended to appear. The magical belt in Joan's hands at this moment delivered just such a wonderful surprise.

According to the identification, this belt had been enchanted with three second-level spells: Bull's Strength, Cat's Grace, and Bear's Endurance. Each spell enhanced one of the wearer's core physical attributes—strength, agility, and resilience. Yet this "Athlete's Belt," rather than directly boosting those attributes, dramatically improved all abilities related to them: running, climbing, jumping, swimming, tumbling, and so forth. Regardless of one's original frailty or unathletic state, donning this belt would transform the wearer, elevating all feats of strength, agility, and stamina to the level of a professional athlete.

Joan's fingers trembled as he stroked the Athlete's Belt.

As a mage with a delicate constitution, the value of this belt to him was beyond measure. Especially considering the wilderness adventures and long journeys that likely awaited him, with this belt, traversing mountains and rivers would become infinitely easier.

Filled with excitement, Joan wrapped the Athlete's Belt around his waist and recited the activation incantation revealed by his spell. Instantly, he felt a subtle change from within, as though shedding a heavy, burdensome cloak—his entire body grew light and nimble.

He tried leaping forward, and with a gentle bound, soared nearly twelve feet—a result that astonished him. To test the belt's effect, Joan removed it and gave his all in another standing jump; this time, he barely managed seven feet. The simple comparison left no doubt: the Athlete's Belt had nearly doubled his performance.

"This belt must be worth at least three thousand gold coins," Joan thought with glee, lying back on his pallet with arms behind his head. "I've really struck it rich this time."

With a light heart, Joan drifted into a peaceful sleep. He did not know how long he had been resting when he was jolted awake by a sudden commotion. Leaping up and rushing to the window, he saw the sky just beginning to brighten. Outside, the sound of hurried footsteps and the urgent ringing of alarm bells echoed over the town, sending a chill through his heart.

Snatching up his coat, he threw it over his shoulders and hurried out the door, sprinting toward the source of the clamor. Dawn had yet to break fully, and most shops along the street remained shuttered. Awakened by the bells, townsfolk poked sleepy, bewildered faces from their windows.

As Joan raced down the street, more and more people poured from their homes, joining him in a swelling crowd that surged toward the town gate—like tributaries feeding a growing river. In no time, their numbers swelled past a hundred. Among them, Joan, dressed in everyday clothes and running out of curiosity, was in the minority. Most were militiamen in leather armor, who had rushed to the barracks at the first sound of the alarm.

Derrin Town was well fortified. A six-foot-high stone wall encircled the settlement, with thorny vines growing along the inner side—sharp brambles climbing and covering the masonry to discourage any would-be intruders. The wall was interrupted at the north end by a movable wooden palisade, which was usually pulled aside by day. At night, militiamen patrolled the ramparts, with sentries stationed at the gate. They rarely questioned townsfolk, only stopping strangers for inquiry.

On either side of the gate stood fifteen-yard-tall watchtowers, each equipped with a bell and manned around the clock. The militia barracks lay behind the left tower.

Turning the corner, Joan saw the watchtower at the end of the road. A sizable group of militiamen had already gathered at the palisade—clearly, something serious had occurred. As Joan worried over this, a voice called from behind. He turned to see the Tindall brothers, fully armed, waving at him.

"Joan, you sure can run!" Dick bent over, hands on his knees, panting. "Roger and I had just left the house when we saw you flash by like the wind. We called, but you didn't look back. We thought something terrible had happened and chased after you for two streets, but not only couldn't we catch up, you left us far behind. It's unbelievable!"

"Exactly! I've never seen you run so fast before—like a rabbit!" Roger eyed Joan up and down, noting that he had just run two streets and was hardly sweating, his puzzlement growing ever deeper.