I should wait here for a while to make sure none of them follow me out. Harvey thought, leaning his back against the cold metal minecart and staring into the tunnel. That’s a good enough excuse for me to catch my breath, right?

  He was bruised, beaten, and bone dry of essence. The sizzle of power flowing through his inky veins had become a comfort for him, and it was almost as if he were a pre-system human again after completely draining himself trying to maintain fangbreaker shields. His skill couldn’t be worse against attacks like that. Hell, cardboard taped to his back probably would’ve done a better job.

  It wasn’t that Fangbreaker was falling behind, but that it was meant to impede strong, singular attacks while creating an opening for him to retaliate. That worked beautifully against a fist, but since the whole thing popped the second something scratched the surface, he had to conjure a new one for every single rock thrown his way.

  He sat for a long time, expecting an army of elementals that never came. That was almost worse. If they were learning to fight smart, what stopped them from planning a full-scale assault starting in Veils End’s own backyard?

  When he was confident none would follow him out, he stumbled his way inside.

  “Harvey!” Elena yelped, seeing the blood covering his face. The potion closed his wounds, but it couldn’t put the blood back in his head. “Are you ok?”

  “They throw rocks now.” He coughed out, leaning against a worktable.

  “Throw rocks? So do sketchy teenagers.” Elena quipped.

  “Well, why don’t you go fight a sketchy teenager then?” He snapped back, the facade of anger quickly breaking as he started laughing at himself.

  Confidence was good. It was better than the drama queen he’d been before, but that didn’t mean he could afford bad planning. He hadn’t even considered the elementals getting a level 10 upgrade, but how could they not? Everything else in the forest had, and the base-level intelligence to break his lantern wasn’t a big ask.

  “What happened? This looks way worse than a few rocks.” Elena asked, setting the blood-covered rib bone down on the workbench.

  “It was more than a few. The elementals learned to throw stones with essence and were smart enough to take out my lantern before going in for the kill. I was fighting blind, and this time I didn’t have the cave entrance to backlight them.” Harvey groaned. “So stupid.”

  “I can’t believe you made it out, then. Did you kill them?” She asked.

  “One. I was able to use my Flamestrike to find the first one, but I didn’t have the juice for the rest. I won’t be able to do much down there if I can’t figure out a better light source.” Harvey complained.

  “I can probably make one for you, but I’ll need some help.” Elena offered.

  “Really? What do you need?” Harvey asked, dejection turning to excitement. He’d searched John’s shop and found nothing that would help him. There weren’t any headlamps or flashlights in the earth tab.

  “Anything essence touched to inscribe on.” She began. “When it comes to inscriptions, you can really only put them on materials that have been remade by the system. The guide said some natural resources will eventually absorb enough essence to work, but it's only guaranteed to work on things with levels.”

  “Like a beast body? Am I going to have to wear a glowing ribcage around my neck?” Harvey shuddered.

  “Or that essence-infused iron you mentioned. Sicko.” Elena laughed.

  Relief washed over him as he looked at the ingots he’d prepared early that morning. Armor made of monster bones and sinew might look cool in a video game, but he could never imagine wearing it himself.

  “Hallelujah,” he sighed.

  “It’s so it can contain the latent will of the ink. Without it, the power would collapse in on itself, and all you’d have is a pretty picture.” She explained.

  “Got it. I guess instead of the knives I had planned, I can make something wearable for you to inscribe.” Harvey suggested.

  “I’ll get started on the ink. It's probably just going to be a mix of some charcoal and my blood.” Elena replied.

  “You’re going to use your blood?” Harvey asked.

  “It’s what starts the process. No matter what I use to make the ink, part of it has to be my own blood, or it won’t work.” She replied.

  “That’s a little disturbing.” He mused.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “It makes sense when you think about it. Anyone can draw on a piece of wood, but that doesn’t make it an inscription. It’s less about the drawing and more about the essence. Inscriptions are a balance of my power, the latent will of the ink, and the nature of the material I’m inscribing. My blood connects my will to the ink, and lets me shape it with my aura.” Elena explained.

  “Does that mean anybody can make inscriptions? You don’t have to have the profession to do it?” Harvey asked.

  “Do you need a profession to heat some metal and bang it with a hammer?” She answered his question with one of her own.

  She was right. He didn’t. The profession just made The System recognize and reward his efforts, and gave him the stats he’d need to push his craft farther. It was probably hard to get blacksmithing-related skills without a similar profession, but you could at least accomplish the basics without the System’s help.

  “Perfect. I may try a few inscriptions of my own then.” Harvey said.

  Lighting the forge, he piled his crucible high with more essence-infused ore. He had what he needed to make her cauldron now, so he’d melt the materials down while he worked on his bands. The ingots he’d made earlier were enough for two wristbands and a circlet around his head. He’d feel a little stupid wearing jewelry, but at least he’d never have to fight in the dark again.

  While everything heated, he prepared new molds in pans of wet earth. The first was a half-inch deep circle, the size of a dinner plate, that he’d use for the base of her cauldron. His crucible wasn’t big enough to fit all the material he’d need, so he’d pour in phases. First, he’d make the bottom. Then he’d pour five more plates in the shape of leaves that were flat on the bottom and rounded at the top. That way, he could forge weld the bottom of each leaf to the base and create a lotus shape. Once that was done, all he’d have to do is bend the leaves up to a narrower mouth with overlapping sides, and forge-weld the seams over the horn of the anvil. Without his skill, it would be infuriating to check if the cauldron was watertight since he’d have to let it cool, fill it up, and find the leaks, but with his Inventor's Insight, he’d be able to make sure before the first quench.

  “Are you going to need to replace these crystals?” Harvey shouted over the rush of the billows.

  “No, as long as I don’t burn them out from overuse, they should recharge over time,” Elena yelled back.

  “Good! Once these suckers are stuck, we aren’t getting them back out!” Harvey replied, pouring his dinner plate base. Elena had picked six crystals from the pile he’d brought back, and Harvey wasted no time pushing them into place. One in the center, and five along the edge, lining up with the leaves he’d pour next.

  The sweet smell of sawdust was gone, his smithy once again dominated by iron and ash. Julian was still using the extra workbenches as his makeshift workshop, but was out installing the latest set of beds he’d finished.

  Harvey fell into a rhythm of heating bands while more ore melted, and pounding them into shape as the forge breathed around him. At first, it had been the novelty that drew him to blacksmithing, the simple joy of doing something new. Now, he was learning to love the process itself. The release of moving his body instead of sitting in a chair all day. The thrill of turning raw metal into something real.

  That was what coding had always lacked. You could build something brilliant, a digital mind capable of learning and growing, but you could never hold it in your hands. Millions of dollars might change hands because of a few thousand lines of code. The old Harvey would’ve staked his pride on the financial impact his work had on the world. Now, he’d rather make a few nails barely worth the metal in the coins used to buy them.

  “Will these work?” Harvey asked, holding two iron cuffs up for Elena to see.

  “Yeah, should be fine.” She replied.

  Smiling, Harvey dunked them in the water, bending his face down into the steam. They were simple iron cuffs with a gap between each end, allowing him to squeeze his hands through. At first, he wasn’t sure how he was going to measure his wrists to make sure they fit, but was pleased to see his skill solve that problem for him. A quick trip to John’s Shop to look at his own head in the mirror, and he had all the measurements he needed.

  A second steam bath graced his face as the circlet he’d wear on his head got quenched, and he moved his creations to a tray to temper at the edge of the firepot. It had taken two more pours to finish the leaves of the cauldron, and now, he had all the pieces he needed to build the stupid bowl.

  Heating the iron for forge welding was a delicate balance, because it had to be hot enough for the pieces to join together without getting so hot that they melted. Luckily, he had a magic thermometer around his eyes that let him struggle through.

  One by one, each leaf was attached to the base, his ocular skill letting him know they’d fused successfully. He was grateful he’d bit the bullet and bought a pair of gloves a few days ago. The constant hammering still sent earthquakes up his arm, rattling his bones as he struggled. It may not be the literal battle of wills Elena would experience with each inscription, but his resolve was almost broken a few times as he fought to bend the iron into a bowl.

  In the end, he’d done it. It wasn’t pretty, but it would work. He hated the stupid thing. It was barely even a circle, having hundreds of flat faces all bent together instead of a smooth finish. He could probably hammer a few more of those out, but his patience had all burned up.

  Quenching it all, he spent the early evening tempering the metal while Elena prepared for the inscriptions. A mental nudge confirmed the system had accepted his efforts, and it was time to get paid.

  The air around him shook as radiant light exploded out from Harvey’s weave to a degree he hadn’t experienced since the System first carved it onto his soul. It was enough to push the scalding heat surrounding him away, leaving his body encased in the pure light of progress.

  A new creation has been made | Iron Cuffs | Essence Gained

  A new creation has been made | Iron Circlet | Essence Gained

  A new creation has been made | Crude Inkwell | Major Essence Gained

  Your profession, Apprentice Inventor, has reached Level 9. +3 Strength, +3 Endurance, +2 Wisdom, +2 Willpower, +2 Free Points

  …

  Your profession, Apprentice Inventor, has reached Level 11. +3 Strength, +3 Endurance, +2 Wisdom, +2 Willpower, +2 Free Points

  Your race, Veilstrider, has reached Level 11. +1 to all stats

  Your weave stirs, a new Profession Skill can be created at a Loom.

  Three profession levels and two race levels all in one go? He loved the stupid bowl.