Dimensional Merchant: Starting With 100 Stat Points

Two quiet days passed after their registration at the government building.

The calm that followed after could not be mistaken for anything but the calm before a storm. The kind that existed only before something enormous changed.

Even though Hiving never stopped being lively, it felt like the city was holding its breath.

Merchants still shouted prices in the streets, smiths still hammered metal, and adventurers still gathered at the guild building to eat or trade, but beneath the noise was the awareness that it could all end soon.

Wade noticed it most in the cafeteria.

Normally, laughter filled the room. There was always someone boasting about a move they used in a dungeon or complaining about guild taxes.

Now, the noise was subdued. Conversations were shorter. Meals were eaten in silence.

He sat at their usual table, a tray of stew before him.

Across from him, Rowan toyed with his food, occasionally drumming his fingers on the table. Ingrid was there too, her bow case leaning against the bench, and Sebastian sat at the end of the table, half-lost in thought.

The four of them had gathered out of habit, but it was clear none of them were at ease.

"Feels like we're sitting in the stench of misery," Rowan muttered, breaking the silence.

"That's because everyone's waiting," Sebastian said without looking up. "Once the summons come, this place will sound like a war camp."

Ingrid said nothing, her spoon pausing for a moment before she continued eating quietly.

Wade opened his mouth to say something, but then the cafeteria doors swung open with a bang.

The room went dead silent.

A man in a gray courier uniform strode in, the emblem of the Royal Logistics Division stitched over his shoulder.

In his arms was a stack of sealed envelopes, the red wax glinting under the light.

The eyes of every adventurer in the room was on him.

The courier stepped to the center of the cafeteria and raised his voice. "Campaign summons for registered adventurers of the Lion's Guild!"

Murmurs rippled through the hall. Chairs scraped. The man began reading names, one by one.

"Sebastian Ward."

Sebastian stood, his expression blank, and the courier handed him an envelope.

"Ingrid Vale."

Ingrid stood silently, took hers, and sat back down.

"Rowan Dyer."

Rowan rose, a faint smirk on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

And then…

"Wade Barrett."

Wade stood slowly, feeling the weight of a hundred eyes that weren't really looking at him but still seeing themselves reflected in his steps.

The courier extended an envelope. "Division assignment and departure details," he said curtly. "Report as stated."

Wade nodded, accepting it. The envelope was slim, but somehow felt heavy. Like its weight was far greater than paper and wax.

Around the room, the same scene repeated again and again. Names were called and envelopes handed out.

No one spoke for a long time. Then, someone laughed, sounding too loud, too strained, and the noise returned, rising in waves of disbelief, relief, and fear.

Wade broke the seal carefully, retrieving the parchment inside.

[Kingdom of Vasaria – Official Campaign Summons]

To: Wade Barrett, Adventurer Registered under Lion's Adventurer's Guild.

By Royal Decree of King Enoch IV, you are hereby conscripted to serve under the Adventurer Campaign Division Seven.

Report to the mustering grounds at dawn tomorrow. Bring standard gear and self-provided rations for a minimum of five days. Lodging and assignments will be provided upon arrival. Failure to appear will result in forfeit of guild membership, all future commissions, and an automatic death penalty.

Glory to the Crown. Victory for Vasaria.

Wade exhaled slowly and folded the parchment shut.

He glanced across the table. Rowan was still reading his own orders, brow furrowed. Then he looked up, meeting Wade's gaze.

"Division Seven?" Rowan asked.

Wade nodded. "Yeah. You too?"

Rowan's lips twisted into a thin grin. "Looks like we're bunkmates, then."

"Lucky us."

Across the table, Ingrid was silent, rereading her own letter. Sebastian had already tucked his away, his expression thoughtful.

"So," Rowan said after a moment, "that's it. We're leaving tomorrow."

Sebastian nodded. "Tomorrow at dawn."

The reality of it sank in like cold water.

Around them, the cafeteria had shifted. Adventurers were either laughing too hard or sitting in stunned silence. A few were already halfway to drunk, waving their summons like trophies.

It was happening.

The campaign wasn't just a rumor anymore.

It was real.

"Division Seven, huh?" Rowan murmured. "Wonder what kind of assignments we'll get."

"Hopefully not vanguard," Wade said.

Sebastian smirked faintly. "No promises."

They finished their food in silence after that, each lost in thought. When the plates were empty, Sebastian stood, stretching his arms.

"Let's get moving," he said. "We'll need to gather supplies before morning."

They left the cafeteria together.

By the time they stepped into the main hall, the quiet from earlier was gone. The guild building had erupted into organized chaos.

Every corridor was filled with movement. Adventurers rushing between counters, clerks shouting over one another, the metallic clatter of armor and weapons echoing through the walls.

"Gear inspection here!" someone yelled.

"Line for rations starts there!" another voice shouted.

Wade and Rowan pushed through the throng towards the quartermaster's armory. The line stretched almost to the end of the hall, but it moved quickly.

The quartermaster barked questions like a drill sergeant.

"Name? Division? Quantity of rations?"

"Two adventurers, Division Seven," Rowan called over the noise.

"Five-day field packs, right?"

"Yeah."

The man slammed down two cloth bundles heavy with supplies. "Fifty coins each. Take 'em and move!"

Wade paid quickly, tucking the packs into his inventory.

The crowd pressed in around them, voices raised. Every adventurer was preparing for tomorrow, buying, trading, and shouting in a rush to be ready.

Rowan leaned close, his voice low over the din. "We should buy new boots before the quartermaster runs out. The roads to the southern front are hell."

"Agreed," Wade said.

They quickly made the purchase and left.

By the time they stepped back into the street, the sun was lowering, streaking the sky with a beautiful shade of orange.

The city was restless. Couriers galloped through the main road, shouting orders, and merchants packed up their stalls early, muttering prayers for those heading to the front.

At the corner of the street, Wade spotted an old woman sitting behind a small stall draped in faded blue cloth. Charms of bone, metal, and thread hung from a rack beside her.

She caught his gaze and smiled faintly, her eyes bright despite the wrinkles around them. "Care for a blessing, adventurer?"

Wade hesitated, curiosity getting the better of him. He approached. "What kind of blessing?"

"Good fortune," she said simply. "Luck for the road ahead. For soldiers, adventurers… and those walking into danger."

Rowan scoffed softly behind him, but Wade ignored him.

The old woman lifted a charm, a small pendant carved from bone, shaped like a scale, the symbol of trade and balance.

"Seems fitting for you," she said.

Wade studied it. The craftsmanship was rough, but that didn't detract from its beauty. "How much?"

"Twenty coins."

He paid without haggling. The woman looped the thin cord over his neck, smiling. "May your deals stay fair, and your luck stay strong."

"Thanks," he said quietly.

As he turned away, Rowan shook his head, half-smiling. "Superstitious now, are we?"

"Nah." Wade smiled at his words. "I prefer sentimental."