Borch immediately relayed this, his voice lighter and happier this time: "Myrgtabrakke said, man, your... sense of responsibility has earned her admiration."
"She is not human, she can't fully understand your way of thinking, and since you don't want to accept the dragon's egg, she won't force you."
Borch paused and continued: "But she insisted on expressing her gratitude. She said she has collected some things in the cave... treasures she considers valuable."
"You may enter freely and take some as a reward for your kindness."
Hearing this suggestion, Karl finally smiled.
He nodded, and this time did not refuse again: "Yes, I accept this form of gratitude."
Karl followed Myrgtabrakke into the depths of the cave, which was dry and spacious, unlike the hustle and clamor and blood outside.
The air was filled with a faint smell of sulfur and the unique scent of dragons.
However, Karl's attention was not drawn by a mountain of dazzling gold coins in a legendary dragon's lair.
In one corner of the cave, there was a large amount of ore and crystals of various colors, shimmering with natural luster.
From common quartz and agate to rarer chalcedony and dwarven iron ore, everything was available.
On the other side, there were many gemstones that had been pre-polished and contained magic,
lying quietly, like stars, emitting their own radiance in the cave's dim light.
The most impressive was a variety of items stacked on a relatively flat stone, which emitted clear magical fluctuations.
There were necklaces and rings inlaid with huge gemstones and intricate patterns.
There were steel swords and battle axes with elemental glows and floating runes.
There were also several metal and leather armor pieces that looked old but still shone.
This scene made Karl's eyes, which were not interested in gold, instantly light up.
Almost simultaneously, in the corner of his vision, a system prompt that only he could see frantically scrolled across the screen.
[Detected absorbable mana source]
[Detected absorbable mana source]
[...]
At a glance, there were hundreds of prompts; it was simply a high-quality energy bank.
Myrgtabrakke looked back at Karl and let out a low, permissive roar.
She pointed with her claws at the pile of "treasures," indicating that he could take as he pleased.
Karl was no longer polite; his mind moved slightly, and his invisible bio-field was like countless dexterous hands, covering the pile of mixed collection items.
The next moment, all the necklaces, rings, weapons, armor, and some gemstones with particularly strong magical reactions could be seen.
They automatically separated from the ore and ordinary gemstones, easily hovering and gathering into a mountain, shimmering with various magical lights before Karl.
Karl nodded to Myrgtabrakke and pointed to the stack of magical items suspended before him, indicating that he had chosen them.
Myrgtabrakke's huge dragon pupils swept over the "hill" Karl had chosen, which was almost all magical items, and a flicker of understanding passed through her eyes.
It was a bit strange that Karl only took these shiny, powerful things, not these beautiful stones.
She extended her claws and pointed to the pile of ordinary gemstones and ore nearby, which were still significant in quantity and color.
She let out a puzzled low roar from her throat, as if asking: "Don't you want these? They are also beautiful."
Karl understood what she meant, smiled, and shook his head, his gaze again firmly fixed on the pile of magical items, his chin slightly raised, indicating that this was enough.
When Karl and Myrgtabrakke emerged from the cave again, those waiting outside were immediately drawn to the magical items hovering around Karl, almost piled up like a small mountain.
Yennefer and Dorregaray simply exchanged a glance, and then were stunned on the spot.
Immediately, their breathing became uncontrollably heavy, their eyes widened like bronze bells, and they almost turned red.
This expression was like a beggar, hungry for three days, suddenly seeing a lavish dining table.
Magical items! So many, and very dense magical items! The craftsmanship of magical items is extremely complex and partially lost.
Only highly skilled and knowledgeable sorcerers can succeed in crafting them.
Furthermore, the production process is full of uncertainty, and the failure rate is extremely high.
Even successful magical items, if not used for a long time or properly maintained,
can have their internal magical structure become unstable or even self-destruct.
Therefore, for sorcerers, stable and powerful magical items are extremely valuable.
An ordinary sorcerer with two or three suitable magical items is already quite wealthy.
And an elite sorceress like Yennefer only has the obsidian amulet on her chest, a gift from Tissaia.
But the pile... hovering around Karl, visually there were at least two or three hundred items.
Although the quality may vary, such a huge quantity would drive any sorcerer mad.
Although Geralt knew little about magical items, the wolf-head medallion on his chest had been trembling wildly ever since, almost jumping off his neck.
He glanced at Yennefer and Dorregaray beside him, looking so excited they were almost drooling.
He immediately understood that the pile of shiny things around Karl was definitely an extremely valuable treasure for sorcerers.
Karl took the eye-catching mountain of magical items and, under the gaze of Yennefer and Dorregaray, who were almost glued to it, first walked in front of Geralt.
His mind moved slightly, and from the pile of magical items, he separated all the armor and weapons, hanging them before Geralt.
This equipment shimmered with enchanted auras, and energy flowed in the runic patterns, which at first glance seemed unusual.
"Geralt, look. Do you need anything? Choose a few that are easy to use." Karl said with a smile, his tone very relaxed.
Geralt was clearly stunned for a moment; he looked at the enchanted equipment before him, emitting powerful magical fluctuations, and a flicker of thought did appear in his cat-like pupils.
As a Witcher who lives on the edge of life and death year-round, the best equipment often means a higher chance of survival.
His gaze momentarily fell on one of the smooth-lined, glowing daggers, a steel sword with an icy blade,
and a light but well-structured piece of armor with key riveted points, for a moment.
But only for a moment; he shook his head, regained his usual composure, and refused: "Sorry, Arn Vati. These things are too precious."