“You can fly?!” Hannah shrieked, hungry eyes turning towards him.

  “I can.” He smirked. “I’m surprised more people haven’t tried now that magic is real.”

  “It’s gotta be expensive, right? There’s no way F Grade is strong enough to soar around constantly.” Julian posed.

  “Probably, but who cares!” Harvey laughed.

  “I hope you run out of essence and fall just far enough to break your legs,” Hannah groaned.

  “Aw. Thanks, Hannah! That was actually a lot nicer than what I thought you were gonna say.” Harvey crooned.

  “What? No, it wasn’t.” She replied.

  “Breaking your legs is better than becoming a human pancake,” Elena chuckled.

  “Veilstrider pancake,” she corrected. “Besides, I don’t want Harvey to die. I’m just a little jealous.”

  “Hear that, Buttercup? Your mom would trade you for a jetpack if she could.” Harvey taunted.

  “Alright, settle down. I’m not sure I love your new class, Harvey. Seems like you’re going to be starting a lot of fires.” Julian teased.

  “You’re one to talk, Mr. Human Torch.”

  “I have to say, I’m jealous that almost my entire skillset is basically an afterthought of two of your profession skills.” Elena sighed.

  “It’s just because you haven’t evolved yet. Your skills are going to be a lot more specialized than mine.” Harvey responded.

  “That’s a good point. Are you getting close to F Grade?” Julian asked.

  “Slowly but surely. I’m about to hit Level 25 with my Profession, but it’s going to take a while to make up for all the Race levels I didn’t get from my class.”

  “You’ll get there. I guess now we need to decide what to do before the quest ends.” Julian suggested.

  “Ugh, don’t remind me. I feel like we’ve been running around like chickens with our heads cut off ever since that timer appeared.” Hannah groaned.

  There’d been an invisible timer hanging over their heads ever since the vision that first night in Veil’s End, but watching one tick down had put it all into perspective. War was coming… whether they were ready or not. The battlefield for their last stand would be decided in just over a week, and it looked like they’d all be checking into the Hell Hotel if nothing changed.

  “I know. I feel like we’ve been so focused on evolving that we’ve ignored everything else going on in Veils End.” Harvey lamented.

  “So let’s get our heads straight. What’s it going to take to get Veils End back on top?” Julian asked.

  “I’m still not sure why we want to win,” Elena questioned. “I know you think we’ll get lazy, but the fact they overtook us proves they’re doing something right.”

  Harvey couldn’t deny the allure of a warm bed and a hot shower. He’d been sleeping in his own muck for weeks and couldn’t spare a trip to the river to bathe with the anchor eels every day. Still, something inside him wasn’t willing to let go of Veil’s End, and the rest of the outpost seemed to feel the same way. Julian hadn’t kept the details secret, but nobody else wanted to leave.

  “I’m not sure their first-place spot isn’t all from their numbers advantage, but even if it’s not, I don’t think it’s our best battlefield,” Julian contended.

  “Why not? There’s not really anything special about Veils End.” Elena retorted.

  “It’s built from old Earth materials that have no chance of standing up to that dragon,” Hannah explained.

  “Exactly. The building will collapse the second the fighting starts. Trust me, you don’t want to be anywhere near a burning building.” Julian added.

  “Ok. I don’t think you want to be in an empty mining town either.” Elena rebutted.

  “You’re right. But this empty mining town has something the other outposts probably don’t. A mine.” Harvey added.

  “Had... a mine.” She corrected. “Unless you forgot about blowing it up.”

  “No, I didn’t forget.” He moaned.

  “I never asked, but what made you think that was a good idea? I doubt a cave-in’s going to stop a few motivated elementals.” Hannah asked.

  “It was the only thing I could think of! I had just gotten beaten so hard my weave cracked! Putting a few thousand tons of rock between me and another elemental seemed like a good idea at the time. And who’s to say it didn’t work? I watched that tunnel like a hawk while I was recovering and didn’t see a single elemental.” Harvey protested.

  “They are probably just biding their time waiting for more to evolve before coming out to attack us,” Julian suggested.

  “That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence either.” Elena huffed.

  “You’re right, which is why I think it’s time we let Veils End know about the mine. It probably shouldn’t have been kept a secret in the first place, but we can’t change that now.” Harvey sighed.

  “Are you sure?” Hannah asked.

  “Yeah. I still feel bad about destroying a bunch of sentient elementals, but I can’t ignore the fact that we need the ore. If we open the mine up now, we can use it as a proving ground for everyone to reliably gain levels while manufacturing all the armor, weapons, and defenses we’ll need to fight the Undead.” Harvey asserted.

  “I’m happy you see it that way. I wanted to bring it up, but wasn’t sure you’d go along. We can’t just rely on the three of us to watch the tunnel 24/7.” Julian suggested.

  “Exactly. So I guess step 1 is telling everyone else, clearing it out, and figuring out what kind of defenses we can build with the steel in the short term. Hopefully, killing a bunch of evolved elementals will be enough to put Veils End back on top.” Harvey affirmed.

  “You guys suck,” Elena huffed. “I want to shower.”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to bathe once we’re back on Earth.” Harvey chuckled.

  “Yeah, whatever.” She whined.

  “I feel you, girl. The boys don’t know what it’s like having long hair in the apocalypse.” Hannah commiserated.

  “Exactly! Thank you, someone understands.”

  “We could all shave our heads? Would that make you happy?” Julian asked, grabbing a chunk of Hannah’s white hair as his sword appeared from his slipsack.

  “GET OFF ME!” She yelled, whipping her head away and climbing over Harvey to get away. Instead of letting her go, he wrapped his arms around and tried to contain her flailing body. “Harvey!”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He eventually let go, a hearty laugh erupting from his chest as she scrambled away on all fours. Buttercup looked on with concern, clearly confused but not sensing any threat from Julian. It was good to laugh every once in a while. It was one of the reasons he loved Hannah. It may get annoying sometimes, but he couldn’t imagine how dark Veils End would seem without her shenanigans reminding them they were still human, even if they were all stuck in a Veilstrider’s body.

  He could feel a weight lifted off his chest, the looming stress of his evolution finally behind him. Even if he’d accepted there wasn’t a right answer to the System, it didn’t stop him from worrying about finding a good one. He’d come so far as an arcanist, a blacksmith, and a person. He didn’t want to throw all that progress away by messing up his evolution. Even with John’s guide to the tapestry, they were basically feeling their way through a dark room, hoping that the potion bottles they found had power and not poison inside them.

  They decided to share their plan at dinner and had a few hours to spare before setting anything in motion. Julian and Hannah decided to leave for a hunt, and Harvey and Elena got back to the forge.

  The ingot he’d poured before Elena started screaming at him that morning was sitting on a workbench. The essence mold surrounding it had already disintegrated. Picking it up, he used Artificer’s Eyes to inspect it.

  A wide grin split his face. His new skill was terrific, not only sharing the resonances of the metal but also telling him what inscriptions would work best. He probably could’ve guessed those resonances anyway, but it was nice to have it confirmed.

  The strength of an inscription hung in the balance between the resonances of the brush, the ink, and the canvas. If they were all significantly different, any inscription would end up unstable and essence-hungry. Matching two was usually enough for a stable effect, but matching all three would create a self-sustaining system.

  His real goal was to produce his first batch of steel, but he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t run into any surprises with the F Grade material. With everything as expected, he pulled the now handless elemental torso from his slipsack.

  It’s just like dissecting a frog. He winced, grabbing a hammer and chisel. Cutting the body into chunks was an arduous process... his leather gloves barely able to suppress the vibration of chiseling through pure iron. This can’t be good for my tools.

  First, a chunk of forearm, then an elbow. Piece by piece, the body was turned to scrap. Making steel out of the old ore would have been incredibly difficult due to the large amounts of slag left over from his imperfect cleaning. Wrought iron solved that problem by methodically beating the slag out of the billet until almost none remained, leaving the iron nearly carbon-free. Usually, he'd have to make wrought iron, then reheat it with added carbon to make steel. His dead elemental didn’t have any slag or carbon to speak of. It was pure iron, so all he had to do was introduce a measured amount in the form of charcoal dust.

  Opening the kiln, he took four chunks of charcoal from the center of the pile to make sure no dirt or dust would contaminate his blend. Then, he filled the firepot and released a controlled burst of flame from his fingertip with Booster. Even the tiniest burst of forgefire pushed his hand backward, proving the thrust of his evolved skill was no joke.

  Don’t need matches anymore. He celebrated, relishing the crackle of fire roaring to life.

  Dropping a chunk of elemental into his crucible, he carefully placed it under the chimney vent before setting to pump the bellows. With the fire fed, he carefully ground his charcoal into dust. The iron needed to be just below its melting point when he started adding his carbon. In the end, he aimed for about 1.5% carbon content in his steel.

  Most of Veils End’s occupants fought with blades, and wrought iron wouldn’t make the cut. It was sturdy, but soft. Ductile. Willing to bend rather than break. That was fine for a shield or set of plate armor, but terrible at holding an edge. Steel was the opposite. A marriage of metal and ash that gave the iron a spine without making it shatter on impact.

  Typically, the upgrade from iron to steel was pretty complicated, but with Artificer’s Eyes, it would be a piece of cake. He could see exactly how hot the metal was and measure precisely how much carbon he needed to add for the perfect blend. No slag, no impurities, no guesswork. Elemental iron was a smith’s dream.

  The hardest part was getting a clear view of the metal inside the crucible. Burying his face in the heat, he marveled at how his body endured what would have singed the hairs from his nose just days earlier. He didn’t know if it was the threads from his class adding forgefire to his weave or just the benefits of an evolved body, but he’d gotten comfortable with the heat.

  The glowing rings around his eyes flickered to life, glowing runes pulsing as the HUD appeared in his vision as he waited for the perfect moment to feed his creation. Slowly, he added charcoal until the ideal ratio was reached, and he let it all melt together. The essence pooling towards his eyes was then pulled away, filling the sigil for Artificer’s Toolbox as a steely blue light hardened into a thick mold. He’d purchased his old warhammers from John’s shop out of fear his burgeoning skills would leave him with a broken weapon when he needed it most, but now he was confident. Not because his skills had miraculously improved, but because his molds could cast the exact shape he needed for each piece.

  Except the damn handle. Why do I always forget about that part? He swore, molding a thick hammer head with a large face tapering down to a sharp pick on the other end. His old molds required deep concentration, layering on essence like a 3D printer with a gunked-up head. His evolution let him produce formless putty that bent to his every whim without complaint, allowing him to adjust to his satisfaction before going hard as stone. It was lucky too, since he’d almost forgotten to add the tube below the head where he’d slot in his handle.

  I can’t just whittle a stick and call it good. What if the handle were made of steel, too?

  Old Earth warhammers were almost never fitted with metal handles because there was nothing to absorb the shock. Every strike would rattle your bones like hitting a light pole with a baseball bat. Against an elemental, he’d be just as likely to break his own arm as its metal body. But old Earth warhammers didn’t have inscriptions.

  What if he could dampen the vibration with an inscription? It would make sure the next elemental he fought couldn’t snap the handle like it had with his infantry warhammer. Inspecting the ingot told him the iron had a kinetic storage resonance, so what if he added runes that collected all the vibrations and let him release it all as an electric shock? Like a massive dose of static electricity? Searching the sea of runes branded into his mind from reading John’s guide, it seemed like he could make that work.

  Every impact charges it up, and then I can let it all out. Simple enough… in theory. Plus, an essence-infused handle will let me feed any inscriptions on the head faster. He smiled.

  A plan in place, he adjusted his mold to leave two holes in his socket where he’d attach the handle with a thick metal pin, then hammer it all tight. Satisfied, the essence solidified. His crucible couldn’t fit enough steel for the entire head in a single pour, so he set the mold at the edge of the forge as far away from the firepot as he could and poured in his steel.

  I hope you can take the heat. Otherwise, it’s going to get real messy in here. He fussed, dropping another chunk of elemental in before putting the crucible back under the chimney. Multi-stage pours would be fine as long as the steel in the mold didn’t cool too much, and he could monitor everything precisely with Artificer’s Eyes.

  It took two pours to complete the head, and another two to complete the handle. He didn’t need the entire crucible for the second head pour, so he used the residual to make the pin that would attach the handle to the head. The handle was a foot and a half long, and he added a small bowl to the bottom to act as a pommel. He wanted to attach an essence crystal to the bowl, providing an extra battery for the inscriptions on the hammer. Actually embedding one would be an issue considering they were all shapes and sizes, but he’d figure it out.

  Maybe if I get it hot enough, I can just jam one in there like I did with Elena’s inkwell.

  Satisfied that everything had fused nicely, he moved the molds to a workbench away from the fire to cool. He’d make sure they tempered nicely with Perfect Finish once they’d cooled down a bit before quenching it all.

  In the meantime, he got to work on a steel inkwell of his own. With the significant improvements to his molds and the purity of his steel, he would just cast it instead of banging out the strange lotus shape he had before. He knew exactly where the essence crystals needed to go and had plenty left over from before, so he carefully pushed them through his mold to let the metal pour around them, locking each perfectly into place.

  This is so much easier. He chuckled to himself.

  “What are you laughing at over there?” Elena asked, looking up from her workbench.

  “Oh, nothing. Just how much better my inkwell is going to be compared to yours... I really did a terrible job.” He replied.

  “You did? No fair, I want a new one!” She complained.

  “No problem. I’ll make you one after we restock my supply.” Harvey smiled.