Alari agreed with the commander's blunt assessment of the situation. The demons had been coming more frequently and in greater numbers. However, the worst part was that they seemed to be more organized, and scouts had reported a large army to the north. The forts were primarily outposts where riders could sortie out, engaging roaming bands of demons and then resupply and recuperate without fear. They were not designed to withstand a prolonged siege or an overwhelming assault.

  “Due to these issues, we’ve stopped sending out patrols. I sent messengers to Lanika and to the forts north and south. Unfortunately, we’re not sure when reinforcements will arrive, but it will be at least another week,” the commander said.

  “What about the nearby farms?” Alari asked.

  The commander just shrugged. “Some might be raided, but they are spread out enough that the demons might not bother them. Either way, there is nothing I can do.”

  Alari clenched his fist and tightened his jaw. While he understood the commander's position, he seemed indifferent to the plight of the people he was supposed to protect.

  “What about the wasteland tribes? They wouldn’t have let this many demons pass unmolested,” Bashir stated.

  “You would know better than I,” the commander sneered.

  Elias spoke up before tempers flared. “I realize both of you are concerned for your families, but the best way you can help them is by doing your jobs.”

  “Yes, your support here is needed…” the commander started to say, but Elias quickly cut him off.

  “We will be going to the rift. We are adventurers, not soldiers.”

  “I won’t allow it; you are needed here.”

  “I’m not under your command, and the rift stabilizing would be catastrophic for everyone here.”

  “I have the authority to conscript anyone…”

  “Adventurers are exempt from conscription,” Elias stated.

  Judging by the flustered look on the man’s face, he hadn’t been aware of that. When the commander still insisted they join the army, Elias once again glared at the man, which finally got him to relent.

  Extending an olive branch, Elias added, “We will do what we can tonight. Bashir and Maeve are excellent scouts; they will make sure we know about any demons between here and the rift. Our healer is already helping the injured, and this young man here has a metal talent; he can see to any of your equipment that needs repair.”

  With that proclamation, Bashir and Maeve departed, not needing any further instructions. Alari was less sure, but the quartermaster quickly descended upon him. He was led away to the smithy, where numerous damaged items were stockpiled. Sorting through the pile, Alari picked out several pieces of dented arms and armor. They were of a similar quality to what they had bought from the village.

  “How much of this will you be able to fix?” the quartermaster asked in confusion.

  “All of it,” Alari said confidently, leaving the officer's mouth agape. “I would like a quiet place to work,” he added.

  The quartermaster led him to an empty workshop. While it wasn’t strictly necessary, the extra space and workbenches made his task easier, so he thanked the man and ushered him out before beginning his work. Compared to completely reshaping blades, the repairs were actually easy, as it took very little mana to reshape dents, warping, and chipped edges. Within an hour, the entire pile had been repaired. However, since he only used Alter Shape, they were still made from the same shoddy materials, and some would undoubtedly need repairs after another battle.

  Alari decided to remain within the workshop; if the quartermaster knew how easy it had been for him, he would be tasked with repairing the remaining items. However, he didn’t want to waste his time, so he turned his attention to his own items. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any extra weapons with him. Instead, Alari turned his attention to his gambeson.

  A better fit would certainly help him keep up with the others, so he used Alter Shape to pull the armor in where it had been too loose. He also altered the weaves to be more efficient, tightening them around the chest and spine, while loosening them near joints. This made the gambeson feel lighter by more evenly distributing the weight and allowing him a wider range of motion.

  While that alone would have been a significant improvement, he had other ideas. He focused on the outer layer and pictured the weave he wanted. Channeling mana into Transmute, he watched the material change from simple linen to denser ballistic nylon. At a cursory glance, it didn’t look much different: the cloth had much tighter weaves with a matte finish. However, it was much more resistant to cutting and tearing, which would help prevent the armor from needing constant repairs.

  Next, he went a layer deeper within his mind’s eye, forming a spell construct. With a considerable investment of mana, the material transmuted. Instead of just linen cloth, there were now several layers of aramid fibers, the material used in Kevlar. Overall, his armor was now much more resistant to slashing or piercing attacks. Unfortunately, it didn’t do much against blunt force.

  Fortunately, he had an idea for that. He waited a while, slipping into a mindful meditation to pass the time and ease his mana recovery. When he figured a couple of hours had passed, he stepped outside. A guard stood outside the door, looking bored and tired, though he quickly straightened himself when he saw Alari. The man didn’t look pleased, but didn’t say anything.

  “Can you direct me to the kitchen?” Alari asked.

  “Typical adventurer, thinking he can just take whatever he wants,” the man muttered under his breath. Still, he lazily pointed down the hall. “Bottom level, near the back of the keep,” he said.

  It took Alari a few minutes to find his way through the maze of corridors, with the guards on duty giving him looks ranging from apathy to outright hostility. The kitchen was in turmoil, with numerous messes left unclean and a few staff rushing about in chaotic frenzy. He didn’t want to cause a scene, so he simply walked in and took a ceramic jar of cooking oil. Unfortunately, someone noticed his action and was about to object when he flipped him a coin. The man stared at the silver coin in disbelief, too shocked to say anything before Alari slipped out.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The second item was easier to secure. He stepped out, the sun still beating down as it did at every hour, and grabbed a small bag of sand. When he got back to the workshop, he strained the sand by pouring it into a waterskin with water. After shaking thoroughly, he poured the cloudy water into a clean pot. After boiling the water away, the remaining particulates were much finer. While they were small, he needed them even smaller. Using Transmute, he converted them into a silica powder composed of submicron-sized, uniform-shaped particles.

  With the powder done, he poured the oil and mixed until it was evenly distributed. When he had it as uniform as he could, he visualized the mixture as perfectly distributed and used Transmutation to refine it further. The oil turned into a much more viscous silicone oil.

  With child-like glee, he slowly poked a finger into the oily, putty-like substance. It had a smooth texture; the tiny silica particles were too small to be tactile. He withdrew his finger, then tried striking the substance with force. Unfortunately, the mixture didn’t have the desired consistency, and the gel-like substance simply collapsed. However, one of Transmute's advantages was iteration: each refinement brought him closer to the desired substance while using minimal mana and allowing him to easily reuse failed experiments.

  When he tested it again, the material gave way, but it didn’t go far before the mixture hardened like clay, even cracking a bit. A moment later, it reformed into the gel-like state, the cracks vanishing. The concept was known as a shear-thickening fluid, and had been employed in high-end riot gear.

  Satisfied with the viscous fluid, Alari laid it over the armor. Using Alter Shape, he incorporated the fluid throughout the Kevlar layer. Overall, it made the armor a few kilograms heavier, though it was manageable due to the even distribution.

  With his mana level below half, his upgrades from here were limited. Most of the armor was still linen and could be slightly improved by transmuting it into a linen-polyester blend. It would be slightly more resistant to tearing, but the main improvement was its handling of moisture. Despite the efficiency of the transmutation, it still took Alari below the one-third mana threshold due to the amount of mass being affected.

  At this point, Alari should have been retiring, but he had some final improvements he wanted to make. Unfortunately, he didn’t think his mana would be capable of managing the spell. Instead, he once again slipped into a meditation.

  After a couple of hours, his mana was once again above half. While he would have preferred to wait, it was now the equivalent of the middle of the night; he didn’t think it was a good idea to pull an all-nighter before a hike with potential demon engagements. So, he focused on making his final improvements.

  For the final layer, he cut out some of the padding from a different set of armor, a low-quality wool liner. He laid it over the back inner part of his gambeson and sewed it in with Alter Shape. Of course, he wouldn’t settle for shoddy materials in his artifacts, so he focused on a superior merino wool and used Transmute. This also had the added benefit of cleaning the material by transmuting the sweat and whatever else had been on it previously.

  Finally, he had his other Alter spell, which could harden any material without the typical tradeoffs that came with it. However, unlike the sword, there weren’t critical edges that could be focused on. Instead, he would need to harden the entire armor, which wasn’t feasible. However, he could at least focus on the nylon shell to further improve its resistance to cutting. Still, his mana was limited at this point, so he only visualized a slight improvement.

  With that done, he inspected the final product. It no longer looked like a mass-produced soldier's gambeson with obvious flaws. Instead, it was smooth, with regular lines, tight weaves, and a matte look. Despite the added weight, it gained a slimmer profile. In both form and function, it resembled a heavy Carhartt jacket with a fleece liner, the jacket bulging slightly from a concealed Kevlar vest. That comparison understated the protection afforded by the shear-thickening fluid, which would disperse most mundane blunt-force trauma. Satisfied, Alari confirmed its completion.

  Artificer level up 3 to 5: +2 TP

  Available Talent Points: 3

  His minor repairs hadn’t qualified as artifacts, so all the experience came from the enhanced gambeson. It had given him a bit more than the sword, though in terms of mana to experience, it was less efficient. The increased difficulty in leveling was also starting to become a factor; the sword had given him close to three, while this gain had been barely two.

  Exhaustion, both mental and physical, was starting to catch up to him. Not wanting to deal with the logistics of finding a room, Alari pulled his bedroll out of his pack and laid it on the floor. He was out within seconds.

  It felt like no time later, when someone shook him. Groggily, he noted it had been six hours since he passed out.

  “You’ve been busy,” Elias commented as he looked at the gambeson, which was still on the workbench.

  “I didn’t particularly enjoy being stabbed,” Alari stated.

  “Most people don’t,” he commented dryly. When Alari was on his feet, Elias held out two crystalline spheres the size of marbles. Each was faintly glowing: one had solid, earthy browns and greens, while the other was stringy, like a ball of yarn in blood-red. He spoke in a hushed tone, just above a whisper, “I managed to get you two essences: one Strength and one Constitution. They are both minor grade, but they will be sufficient to give you a point in each.”

  “I thought you said they weren’t worth consuming raw?” Alari questioned as he was handed the strange spheres, which felt warm to the touch but had an unnaturally smooth texture.

  “Typically, they aren’t, but circumstances warrant it. Take the Constitution first, that's the earthy looking one; it should help with the digestion of Strength. Now hurry and consume them, before someone notices.”

  “I have three Talent Points available…”

  “I would still recommend increasing Constitution,” Elias stated confidently before Alari could even finish. He nodded and did as his mentor suggested.

  Immediately, he could feel the difference. He was more alert, as if he had slept more. Minor aches and pains that he had grown accustomed to vanished. Overall, he just felt good, almost euphoric.

  “How do I consume this?” Alari asked, holding up the Constitution essence.

  “Just pop it into your mouth, but don’t swallow. Also, no matter what, don’t spit it out or throw up,” he warned.

  A bit hesitantly, he did as he was told. As soon as the essence reached his tongue, it was like he touched a live wire, his entire body locking into place. His stomach churned, as if he had stomach cramps, and he worried he would soil himself. Sweat seeped from every pore, and snot dripped from his nose. Despite the discomfort, he felt like he had just consumed an entire pot of coffee and washed down powerful painkillers. It was similar to what he felt when he increased the Constitution Attribute, but amplified by an order of magnitude. However, just as quickly as the sensations began, they promptly subsided.

  Cultivation 0 to 2: +1 Constitution

  When he felt stable, he repeated the process for the Strength essence. Immediately, his muscles screamed in protest, as if he just finished a workout while straining everything in his body. At the same time, he felt physically powerful, like he could destroy anything if he so desired. As with the first essence, the intensity quickly faded before settling on his new baseline.

  Cultivation 2 to 4: +1 Strength

  Elias nodded, “Good. We’ll be off as soon as Maeve and Bashir have gotten a couple of hours of sleep. Things are worse than I feared.”