Karl placed the plants in Remi’s space, and the Naga immediately returned to plant them and begin the germination process so that she could clone them and grow more copies.

That was the true difficulty of being an Alchemist. You also had to be an excellent gardener, but the people who loved alchemy, where you spent ages indoors researching recipes in ancient tomes, and the ones who loved being in the garden, with nature and flowers, rarely overlapped.

Because of that, too many Alchemists relied upon harvested resources, instead of trying to grow their own.

And too many of the gardeners who could have grown them never learned all the extremely specific requirements of the many rare alchemical ingredients. So, they were left at an impasse, and the quantity of resources available to the Clans never really improved.

Even the garden in the Tiny World, which wasn’t quite as good for growing rare plants as her own space, was vastly superior to what most Clans could claim as their Alchemy Garden.

Much to her delight, the plants took to the soil instantly, and she mentally nudged Leo to get some assistance with bonus nature magic to help the plants grow a bit more quickly.

They would be cloned with cuttings, but they were still immature plants, and she needed them to be bigger before she could do anything with them, or she would risk the health of the host plant.

The turtle sent a wave of plant growth energy into her space, and Remi laughed as she realized that she had not been nearly specific enough.

The turtle was having an afternoon snack with his friends at school, and had only partially been paying attention to what Remi was doing before she made the request. So, he had simply given her whole space some assistance, and called it good enough for whatever she needed.

It still did the job. Her new plants were settling roots into the soil, and given a few weeks, they would be ready to splice and start cloning.

That was enough.

While she worked, Karl handed over the gear piece, and heard the wave of groans and complaints go up from the main room of the store.

"You snooze, you lose. If they really wanted it, they should have been faster," the Immortal joked.

Karl laughed at the man’s optimism, knowing that buying expensive gear was actually a risky proposition, if anyone decided that they could try to take it from you. This one was strong enough that it shouldn’t be an issue, but once he was in the wilderness, away from the city where some semblance of order was upheld, all bets would be off.

That would be a few days, as he was also headed to New Home for the intake event. And by then, most would have forgotten a single piece of gear purchased on the first day the shop was open.

After all, it was unlikely to be the only one that they sold.

If Karl’s guess was right, over the next half a day, they should sell everything of Peerless Grade in the display case, he just needed to give it some time before the ones that the guests here were contacting could arrive with payment.

Just because they didn’t have the money, or didn’t want to spend so much on a Peerless Grade item, didn’t mean that they didn’t know an Elder who wouldn’t mind getting their hands on it.

He just had to wait.

Not for long, as Karl soon realized.

The Pack had called people that they knew who either came themselves, or called other Elders. Those Elders, as well as the ones who had been in town waiting for the portal to New Home to be opened called others, and that brought real customers to the shop in under an hour.

"Mister Karl, I am Sect Leader Achtung of the Iron Staff Sect. I hear that you have a number of Peerless Grade items for Warriors," a burly man greeted him at the door of the shop.

"Indeed. The ones on sale today are up there in the display case. They’re a bit of a mismatch, but we weren’t certain what anyone would want, so we made a bit of everything," Karl explained.

"Logical. Give me a moment, and I will ascertain for myself whether the item described to me is as promised by my acquaintance."

This Sect Leader was overly formal, Karl decided. At least in his speech.

He did seem easy enough to work with, as he simply went into the shop and stared at the shelf, examining the goods to be sure that whatever he was told was correct.

Whatever he was told seemed to be correct, as he was quite pleased with the outcome, and Karl saw him take out a notepad to start doing math. Hopefully, not math about how much he could cut from his Sect’s support funds so that he could afford to upgrade his gear, but you never really knew what a Sect Leader would do, or what he actually needed the gear for.

"Alright, the math works.

I am familiar with a few other branches of the Darklight Host, ones on other Immortal Worlds. Is this branch similar? Far too many strange and unique crafting skills concentrated in one spot with an utterly overpowered protector?"

Karl laughed, "That’s one way to put it. I’m not sure that we would have ’far too many’ crafters yet, as we just founded the branch, and it is still in development. But the basic template appears to be exactly what you are familiar with."

"What member did the Guild choose as your protector of last resort? If it’s not too forward of me to ask."

Half the room turned to stare at him. It was far too forward to ask such a question.

Asking about the peak strength of a Guild or Clan was essentially taboo.

But Karl answered anyhow.

"We’ve got Matilda on speed dial, a Legendary Rank Chaos Dragon. Maybe not as good as those established branches with links to a Demigod, but not bad for a new branch."

And that silenced the mutters.