Wexi smacked him on the head and pointed out the error in his forging. Sam hissed in pain but continued working. He peered into the magnifying glass he’d created, trying to latch what Wexi called a construct’s core. Unlike a rune stone, its energy was erratic. He used his low-grade tong to hold it steady, the tiny rune marks on the tong helping manage materials infused with essence. The core’s energy vibrated like a taut string, lightly shaking Sam’s fingers, but he gripped it firmly. The latch troubled him. He kept missing it, worried the core might melt other parts of the construct.

  “Slowly, Samuel,” Wexi droned beside him. “I could do it faster without that magnifying glass, you know?”

  “Yes,” Sam muttered, earning another knock for answering. He hissed again, closed his eyes to focus through the pain, and faced the construct. Exhaling, he calmed his storming mind, seeking the peace he’d found in the hot air of his small forge. Slowly, he lowered the core into the compartment. It dropped with a hiss. At first, he feared he’d messed up, but the core settled into the groove, and thin steel strips latched onto it, merging it seamlessly with the gauntlet.

  Sam stepped back from what he’d created. The gauntlet itself wasn’t extraordinary—well-stitched leather with a steel platform mounted on top, forming the groove for the core. The core had been the most challenging part. Wexi had taught him how to create it but he wasted a lot of time getting it done until she did it herself.

  Now, she leaned to check what he had done without using the magnifying glass. She groaned but nodded approvingly. Sam sighed in relief. Sweat soaked his clothes, and he knew he reeked like the city’s worst sewers. He wanted to eat, sleep, and maybe not wake up for a week.

  Carefully, Wexi picked up the gauntlet and carried it to another table, where a machine sat with a small dome and a wide inlet. Gesturing for Sam to come closer, she slid the gauntlet into the inlet. The machine whirred to life, and Sam jumped as gears groaned and started to turn. They listened quietly as it rolled in earnest, picking up steam. Soon the sound of the machine was all they heard., its deafening roar giving Sam a headache. Fortunately, the process didn’t take long.

  Wexi pulled out the gauntlet and showed it to Sam. He stared at the small glass covering the core, under which he could see the fiery spikes of the core’s energy. He nodded, looking up at Wexi. She tossed it to him and he plucked it from the air, taking a closer look.

  “Give it a try?” Wexi asked. Sam shrugged he wasn’t sure what to expect, but most of it had been drawn based on the workings of Wexi’s projector crown. It was meant to be some kind of launcher or projection.

  He slipped on the gauntlet, feeling the core’s hungry reaction. Sweat trickled down his back. Exhaustion weighed on him, his arm sore, but the joy of wearing something he’d crafted in his hand lifted his spirits. Grinning, Sam beamed at Wexi.

  “I think you just have to picture what you want to project and feed essence into it,” Wexi said. “The first try will be tough. Be prepared—it might even explode, but don’t worry, Nadia will fix you easily.”

  Sam glowered at her, but she snickered. He waited a bit, heightening her curiosity until she swatted his arm and Sam winced. Though she lacked the martial domain, she was still strong. Sam suspected it had something to do with absorbing essence all her life. Life-long absorption had created some kind of amped base form or something. Shaking his head, he pushed the thoughts from his head and instead focused on what he was supposed to do.

  Making a fist with his arm stretched out, Sam wasn’t sure what to create. An idea came to him, recalling his duel with Sahael the day before. She’d been swift and overwhelming, but her attacks weren’t as strong as Kel’s. He’d noticed that his spearing technique hadn’t helped with defense.

  He poured essence into the construct’s core. It flared to life, projecting a bright yellow-gold shield—plain and shimmering. Its beauty lay in its simplicity, which Sam liked. He could see through it, which made it even better for combat. The problem he feared was its integrity. How sturdy was it? He could use his Appraise

  Wexi’s mouth hung open as she stared at the shield. Sam frowned; she’d been doing that more often lately. But this was the first time Sam could see what she was thinking on her face as if she hadn’t thought to mask the awe in her eyes. She blinked, swung to face him, and clapped.

  “Why did you think of a shield?” she asked.

  Sam frowned, unsure how to answer. He went with the truth—there was no need to sound profound with Wexi, who would see through it.

  “Function,” Sam said. “I thought about my fight with Sahael. A shield would’ve helped me more in that fight, keeping her twin swords at bay and buying me time to plan.”

  Wexi nodded, but Sam noticed a flicker of disappointment. She’d expected a different answer.

  “True, you would’ve lasted longer,” Wexi said. “But the result would’ve been the same ultimately.”

  “Why?” Sam asked, though he suspected the answer. The shield flickered before stabilizing again. Wexi grabbed a flat-nosed tong from the wall—plain iron, but forged by old man Varay, a tool Sam trusted after appraising it.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Because while Bairon says that they can’t use essence in the fight, the truth is each domain uses essence differently, and the martial domain is more or less fused with it.”

  “So, while they are not using essence, they still are? Sam asked, bringing up the shield as Wexi heaved the tong with both hands. Wexi groaned a confirmation and brought the tong down on him. It hit the shield and rang as though she’d hit a physical shield, only louder. A small crack appeared on it, but it stayed. Wexi staggered, dropping the tong on the floor to flail her hands. Sam let the shield fade, cutting off the essence supply.

  “That is good. Have you appraised it?” Wexi asked.

  Sam shook his head.

  “You should. I don’t think it will be a mid-grade tool, but it will still be easy to sell. And from how drained you look, I am guessing it uses a lot of essence to create the projection of the shield.”

  Sam nodded, his racing heart slowing to a steady rhythm. The drain hadn’t hit him until Wexi smashed the shield. It seemed the essence pull increased to withstand blows. He’d need to test it more later. The system message came as expected, a bright smile forming on his face.

  +2 VIT, +1 INT, +3 CTY

  + 15 EoM

  You have leveled up! [Level 13]

  Your skill [Proto-crafting] has evolved: % 25

  The pain from leveling hit hard, but Sam welcomed it, smiling through the brief choke of agony. Groaning, he stretched his spine as if to accommodate the discomfort. Muscles contracted, and for a moment, he felt frozen. Essence raged within him for moments and then he sighed, and he felt himself expand. For a moment he sensed the light around burning his eyes with intensity; dust and wind on his skin felt like he was exposed. The heightened senses quickly passed away and he blinked to find Wexi crouching in front of him.

  “The moment anyone finds out that small tasks help you level up, they’ll want it for themselves too.”

  “I think it is more than that,” Sam said, grunting. She pulled him up and took the gauntlet from him in one smooth motion.

  “Sure, we all tend to get attribute points when we achieve something, but we only get EoM points when we achieve something major or fight strong enemies.”

  “I think it has something to do with that legacy function,” Sam explained, his head suddenly aching. “Anyways, I have to go meet Rosaria.”

  “You’ve been seeing a lot of her,” Wexi noted, a hidden grin tugging at her lips as she picked up the tong and placed it back on the wall. “It is a small city,” she added.

  Sam considered responding but decided against it—there wasn’t much to say. Ever since his assault, Rosaria had chosen to walk with him, and their conversations often drifted to his world. She seemed fascinated by everything he shared about Earth, even though this new world seemed more wondrous in comparison. She craved more knowledge, and her curiosity was matched by her contributions to his growing understanding of crafting. Rosaria had taught him much—how to refine metals using his skill, a technique that sped up the process and yielded better constructs from pure or treated materials. Wexi knew all this, which meant her teasing had a deeper reason behind it.

  “Is that wrong?” Sam asked, peeling off his sweat-soaked shirt and frowning at it. He made a mental note to get new clothes from the trade sector. Of course, that would have to wait until after the hunt Zel had invited him on. He needed more supplies for the divine spear, and each time he thought about it, excitement surged within him.

  He also wondered what reward he might get from the hunt for the Gorgon. Still, uncertainty gnawed at him. He hadn’t even managed to land a hit during his training sessions, not even on Sahael, and she wasn’t as skilled as Kels or the others. She came from a wealthy family, though. The thought continued to eat away at him.

  “No,” Wexi answered, flashing an innocent grin. “She’s been withdrawn for a long time. I think you’ll be good for her.” She shrugged, folding her arms in a way that hinted at more to come. Sam waited for it.

  “I should warn you, though, that she’s one of the most sought-after women in Cragforge. I’m sure you’ve noticed the swarm of suitors.”

  “A few squad members,” Sam said, and Wexi chuckled.

  “The squads aren’t your real problem, Sam. If you like her, you’ll need to guard her from the ones up on the top floors of the forge—the rich ones looking for capable wives for their sons and brothers. Some just want her for her skills.”

  “I don’t think I need to guard her,” Sam said, pulling a clean shirt from a chest and slipping it on. Wexi shrugged. “I don’t even know what’s happening yet, Wexi. Right now, I’m just focused on getting strong enough to protect myself. I can’t protect anyone else.”

  “I can tell when a man is lying to himself, and I think I just heard one speak.” Wexi sighed, clasping her hands behind her back. “And, Samuel, you don’t always need strength to protect people.”

  She paused before adding, “Now off you go. Have her teach you something new. If you decide to sell that gauntlet, you’ll need to learn how to grant attributes to your constructs. You’re not a runemaster or an enchanter, but with skill, you can grant minor attributes.”

  “That would be helpful,” Sam agreed, strapping on his casual shoes. His stomach growled—he definitely needed food. And perhaps a quick nap. “I’ll need it for tomorrow’s hunt with Zel. That should give me a chance to test it out.”

  “Hmm,” Wexi grunted her agreement, and she disappeared.

  The walk to the tavern where Sam was meeting Rosaria felt like it took forever. He waited for the switching bridges, then navigated the traffic in the metal buckets riding up to the third-highest floor of the trading sector.

  Rosaria’s eyes lit up when she saw him. Sam laughed through his apology, which quickly turned into a long explanation about Japanese comics and the culture of television. She listened, stunned, when he told her about motion pictures. The questions she asked made him laugh, and soon their late lunch was served. As they ate, Rosaria urged him to keep talking. Sam recounted the stories of a few anime he’d watched until she grew tired of them. Afterward, he attempted a coin trick, but the silver seeds—thinner and wider than the coins he was used to—made sleight of hand difficult. The weight difference threw him off. Eventually, he gave up, explaining what the trick should have looked like instead.

  He noticed a few curious gazes, but he dismissed them.

  By the time they finished, darkness had settled over the trade sectors. Rosaria led him through parts of the city he hadn’t explored yet. Tunnels lined with spark orbs lit their way—tiny, flickering lights, no larger than fireflies, but so many in number their individual flickers blurred into a constant glow. Merchants had set up stalls, selling low-grade weapons and broken but fixable constructs. Sam purchased a small box with strings for Rosaria, promising to retrofit it into something from his world.

  That made her blush and Sam laughed, reveling in the moment.

  by FailedWriter101

  He is the last Heir of Magic.

  cast spells without using mana.

  What to expect:

  -In-depth Magic System

  -Weak to Strong (fast)

  -Survival-Adventure Fantasy

  -Hiding True Class

  -Numbers go brrrrrrr

  -Unique way of using Spells

  Updates: M-F (occasionally on Sat and Sun)