Chapter 14

  The familiar ping of the notification came soon after.

  [You have reached level 12]

  [9 Stat Points Gained]

  He sat back in his chair and exhaled, stretching out his hands. His palms were still lined with yesterday’s calluses, fingertips smudged with soot and now he had think to about this.

  And it wasn’t as easy to spend them as it used to be.

  He opened his stats window, conjuring the familiar projection - he still had no idea who that worked but who would he ask anyway.

  He checked out his current status screen to help him decide :

  Strength : 13

  Dexterity : 10

  Constitution : 11

  Intelligence : 9

  Wisdom : 8

  Charisma : 4

  He grimaced at the last number. He really needed to bring it up…. But not this! He transferred that problem over to future Elias and moved on to the next stat.

  [Strength]... Well, this one was easy at least.

  [+2 to Strength]

  [Strength :15]

  He could already feel the mental itch to test it—maybe a smaller chisel set, maybe push his soldering forms a little tighter.

  That left two points.

  His [Wisdom] was fine, but it should really be brought up to match some of his other attributes.

  And Intelligence? He was reading more than ever and he knew it would be useful for any sort of magical skill.

  Then he considered how often he was using precise, delicate movements—wire shaping, etching, crystal threading. The gauntlet had proven just how far dexterity mattered, not just in combat, but in control.

  Three points to Dexterity.

  [Dexterity: 16]

  He quickly assigned the last points.

  One to [Wisdom], Two to [Intelligence]

  He then decided to look through his full [Status] just to see how much he had improved :

  Name : Elias Varnen

  Class : Alloywright

  Stats :

  [Strength :15]

  [Dexterity: 16]

  [Constitution : 12]

  [Intelligence : 911

  ]Wisdom : 9]

  ]Charisma : 5

  Skills: [Advanced Crafting]

  [Tool Proficiency]

  [Material Identification]

  [Alloy Sense]

  [Temper Mastery]

  [Minor Blessing of the Forger]

  Perks (Only granted to certain individuals if specific conditions are met, not present in status if not in possession of one.):

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  [Metallurgical Comprehension]

  Your understanding of metals is absolute. Upon contact, you receive total awareness of any metal’s nature, including composition, crystalline structure, impurities, forging potential, magical affinity, and alloying behavior. This effect is permanent and instinctive.

  [Artisan’s Ascent]

  Your craftsmanship can transcend material limitations. With sufficient technique and effort, you may forge items of higher rarity, power, and uniqueness than their raw components allow. Results scale with crafting process, not materials.

  [Alloyweaver]

  You may refine, purify, or dismantle metallic elements and their properties. Traits may be transferred between metals or erased entirely. You may also attempt the creation of alloys unknown to this world.

  He looked at his screen with proudness.

  I’ve come a long way and I’m gonna make sure it becomes even longer

  ______________________

  The sun had barely crested the treetops when Elias stirred awake, the scent of cooled forge smoke still lingering in his hair. His shoulders ached, wrists tight from hours of hammering, folding, polishing. But for once, the pain was good—earned. Deserved.

  He slid out of bed with a grunt and padded across the stone floor of his small room, where the completed gauntlet sat on its custom stand.

  The stand itself was a last-minute decision—built from a polished piece of mana-treated maplewood, shaped into a narrow crescent that cradled the gauntlet just so. Elegant, simple, balanced. The perfect complement to the work it held.

  The gauntlet gleamed like a caged sunrise. The outer plating shimmered with the soft, warm glow of the halo-metal, its color shifting subtly with the light. Beneath, the inner skeleton gave it form, strength, and movement—a deceptively light construction that moved like flowing water when handled. He’d even managed a minor mana-channeling lattice between the finger joints, something subtle but functional. Not a full enchantment—yet—but a foundation for one.

  And then, on the underside of the wrist guard, barely visible unless you knew to look: the mark.

  A curving “E” carved delicately into the base plate, cradled in the stylized silhouette of a hill or mound. Earth and Elias, one symbol. His first signature as a smith.

  He stared at it for a long moment, thumb grazing the indent.

  Then, he wrapped the gauntlet in soft linen, tucked it into the cushioned inset of the stand, and carried it out of the workshop like a ceremonial blade.

  Lee was in the outer hall of the Artisan’s Guild.

  “You let it cool before sealing the core? That’s not forging, that’s ruining expectations.” He spun toward Elias, caught the bundled stand in his arms, and arched an eyebrow. “Tell me that’s not the mess I’m going to have to explain to Valen.”

  Elias didn’t smile, but there was the smallest flicker of pride behind his eyes as he set the piece on the table and pulled back the linen.

  The room went quiet for a beat.

  Lee stared.

  Then he let out a single, low whistle.

  “…Well, I’ll be damned.”

  He stepped forward and inspected it more closely, rotating the stand gently. The halo-metal caught the light from the forge’s overhead sconces and danced like fire behind stained glass.

  “You actually pulled it off.”

  “But I still don’t understand what those so called “design” lines are for.”

  “They help in the enchanting process and they’re none of your business.”

  “I know. But I want to learn.”

  Lee blinked.

  “I mean,” Elias continued, clearing his throat, “about enchanting. You’ve done it before right.”

  Lee leaned back slightly, arms folding across his chest. “Once or twice.”

  “I think it’d help,” Elias said. “Not just with commissions. But to actually understand the real meanings behind things rather being passed off as design lines.”

  There was a long pause.

  Then Lee chuckled under his breath. “You’re one of those, huh?”

  “Those?”

  “The restless ones. Think forging’s a tree and they have to climb every branch. Not satisfied with blades and hinges—they want spells and rituals, too.”

  Elias didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

  Lee sighed. “Alright. I’ll teach you what I know. But it’s slow. It’s annoying. And more than half of it’s reading.”

  Elias gave the faintest nod. “Understood.”

  Lee tilted his head toward the gauntlet. “First, though—get that delivered. Valen’s gonna want to see this in person.”

  __________

  The forge was dark now, save for the faint flicker of the coals Elias kept banked low in the corner. The stand sat empty on the table, linen folded neatly beside it. The gauntlet had been delivered. Lee had spoken well of it. Valen, surprisingly, had said little—but his expression was satisfied in that tight-lipped, noble way that didn’t often come with praise.

  Elias sat alone on the stone stoop behind the forge, legs stretched out, watching the stars poke through the trees above.

  He didn’t usually let himself have this much stillness. Time off wasn’t productive. Reflection didn’t shape alloys or teach you new folding methods.

  But tonight, he let himself think.

  He thought about the mark. That silly, curving “E”. The way his hand had shaken a little when he pressed the punch into the cooling metal. A permanent thing. A first.

  He thought about home. The Varnen estate—quiet, full of expectations and legacy and rooms too big for one person. The college dorms - smelling of ink and oil, clattering with old radiators and sleepless nights. The books. The essays. The metallurgy papers. The stolen time in the university foundry, running prototypes past midnight.

  He didn’t miss it. But he hadn’t let go of it, either.

  Here, in this strange new world, people had swords longer than he was tall. Magic ran through trees and soaked into stone. People lived and died by steel and spellwork.

  And somehow, that made it simpler.

  He didn’t want to be famous. Not really.

  He wanted to understand. To shape something perfect. Not just useful, or pretty—something that mattered, that changed the world for the better while letting him learn more about it,

  He wanted to learn the rules of this world—not just the metallurgy and enchantment and forgecraft, but for the first time in his entire life, people… and he wasn’t sure if he liked that but first of all, he wanted to matter, to do something and if possible to help.

  He wasn’t sure what that made him.

  Not a hero.

  Maybe just a smith, in the truest sense.

  Someone who made things that lasted.

  He leaned back, hands behind his head, letting the stars fill his vision.

  Tomorrow, he’d start again.

  But tonight?

  He’d rest.

  Just for a little while.