Chapter 15

[Alabaster Gloves of Focus]: Uncommon. Aids the neophyte spellcaster in quicker, more coherent casting of spells.

“Finally,” Rosalie said. “Functional equipment. And something perfectly suited for you.”

Zoey frowned down at the tiny gloves in her hands. “They won’t fit.” Maybe Zoey’s old body could have crammed the small piece of clothing on, but Zoey’d grown by a non-insignificant amount; she was much taller than the average girl, now, and her hands were of course proportionally similar.

(The extra length on her fingers was quite appreciated. As Rosalie had found out.)

“Nonsense,” Rosalie said. “Unbound equipment resizes itself to the wearer. Go ahead. I doubt we’ll be selling them. Better to use what the shard gives—cheaper.”

Zoey wiggled her fingers into the soft fabric, believing Rosalie’s words but still slightly doubtful. Incredibly, as Zoey’s hand stuffed inside, the cloth expanded, wrapping around in a perfect fit. The other behaved similarly as she tugged it on.

[Alabaster Gloves of Focus]: Uncommon. Bound. Aids the neophyte spellcaster in quicker, more coherent casting of spells.

“What does ‘bound’ mean? Or, uh, entail?”

“That it belongs to you,” Rosalie said. “That it can’t be inspected without your permission, nor can others wear it and gain its benefit. Thus, that it’s virtually worthless to sell.”

“Is there a way to unbind?”

“Yes, but for a first advancement piece of equipment, doing so would be ludicrous.”

“It’s expensive?”

“Exceptionally.”

“Huh.” Zoey had a lot to learn about how the adventuring world worked. She turned her hands back and forth, admiring the bright white fabric and intricate designs. “Doesn’t really fit with my other clothes.”

Rosalie shrugged. “Congratulations. That marks you as a Wayfarer.”

“Hodgepodge aesthetics?”

“A coherent outfit usually means one sacrificed practicality for ‘looking good’.” Rosalie’s lip pulled back in disdain as she sneered the words. “With some exceptions, of course, but an unfortunate amount of Wayfarers are concerned with appearances over wearing the most effective pieces for a given situation.”

“Exceptions being?”

“Large enough shards—or repeated visits to them—can produce a full set of equipment that looks as if they were designed to be worn together. It’s more common at higher advancements than lower.”

“Huh.”

“Keep it moving, will you?”

Zoey had stopped her diligent extraction of loot to talk with Rosalie. The blonde girl clearly wanted to get things over with. Her desire to be out of this shard was genuine; she was visibly impatient.

[Quartz-Encrusted Tiara]: An adornment lined with thick gemstones of quartz.

“It doesn’t say what it does,” Zoey said, brow furrowing. “Not even that it has ‘unidentified effect sigils’.” It was normal for the Inspect ability to not give a detailed accounting of what items did, but usually there was at least an allusion.

“Could mean it does nothing,” Rosalie said, “but more likely, we’ll need to take it to an artificer to have it identified. Some items are more explicit about what they do than others. Loot descriptions follow no particular pattern. Set it aside.”

Zoey did so, then moved on.

[Shaft Ring of Binding]: Rare. For when crescendos need to be delayed, or prevented. Can only be deactivated by the activator.

A cock ring.

Like usual, the perverted nature of the item brought a quirk to Zoey’s lips. The whole situation was a bit funny, however much Rosalie protested. Because magical sex items as a reward for fucking a slime-girl into gooey submission? Well, strangeness was often a catalyst for humor, and here, for Zoey, it definitely was.

“That one’s mine,” Rosalie said, making Zoey start blinking.

“What?”

She held a hand out impatiently. “You took the tongue stud. This one’s mine.”

“Why?”

“Because you make a mess, and should I want to not deal with that, this item means I get to choose when.”

“That, uh.” Zoey foresaw some tortuous moments in the future, if Rosalie had absolute control over when she got to come. “That’s, okay, just, don’t be mean?” She handed it over.

“Mmm,” Rosalie said, turning the item over in inspection, then vanishing it. “We’ll see.”

The ominous statement only mildly made up for the fact that Rosalie’s claiming of the item implied they’d be seeing more intimate encounters in the future. Zoey wondered if Rosalie realized she’d implied that—Zoey would have figured her more embarrassed about doing so.

Or, by the growing pink on her cheeks, maybe she just had.

Zoey laughed, Rosalie scowled at her, and Zoey continued on.

The next item:

[Blossom Blight]: Red flower petals which serve as the primary catalyst for brewing potions that inhibit or amplify the potency of life-giving seed.

Zoey blinked down at the pouch of alchemy reagents. “Wow,” she said. “Like, makes you knock someone up?”

“What?” Rosalie stuttered. “What does it say?”

Right—Rosalie couldn’t see the description of the item in the same way Zoey could, since Zoey had a rune of alchemy and a skill that helped in the identification of reagents. She relayed the description to Rosalie, who shook her head in disgust—something she’d done a lot, in the past ten minutes.

“Or inhibits,” Zoey said. “That’s actually kind of useful. Means it’ll stop me from getting a girl pregnant. If that’s, uh, something I can do in the first place.”

“You don’t know?”

They hadn’t talked about Zoey’s addition between her legs, not in any depth. The only time Rosalie had brought it up was that off-hand comment during the aphrodisiac debacle. “I don’t, yeah. Honestly, I could see it going either way.”