Beyond the time field, the last light of sunset had vanished, leaving only the gentle glow of torches lining the patio.

  Jack held the blowing horn up to the light. Spotting a jagged edge, he gave it another careful sanding.

  His fingers cramped as he worked, an ache that shouldn't exist in the game. Was it psychological? Either way, it was persistent.

  Stacks of finished equipment surrounded him.

  In one corner stood piles of flintlocks and muskets—recipes he’d unlocked at Journeyman Tinkering levels two and three.

  They gave solid XP, so he’d made several dozen, enough to push him to Journeyman Tinkering level 4.

  Then there were the ceramics. Rows of vases etched with scenes from the Bears and the One-Eyes. There were beautifully carved stoneware amphorae, colorful ocarinas, and sturdy pot hives.

  Over the last few hours, he had been making blowing horns.

  Some were plain, others he’d carved with simple patterns or lines of text. On a few, he’d rubbed ash into the grooves.

  Originally, the plan had been to focus solely on Tinkering to see just how far his pot bots could go.

  However, hiring a caravan sounded costly, and if the Dune Hills were as resource-poor as they seemed, everyone had to pitch in. Seeing how urgently Marie and Horace were crafting, he’d decided to go all in, too.

  Sometimes, when he kept perfectly still, he could just make out the faint, slowed-down sound of Horace hammering or sawing.

  The hives outside were mass-producing Royal Jelly, and during his time in the bubble, one of them had even split, giving him a fourth hive. But he couldn’t rely solely on selling [Royal Jelly]. Not when he risked saturating the market.

  He had to diversify and focus on what only he could make. It wasn’t just smarter economically. It kept crafting interesting and him sane.

  The result was that he had at least ten of everything.

  It felt like the right number. Enough to grab the top credit at the market without flooding it.

  All the while, the same question circled endlessly in his mind: what to do about his father.

  He’d tried to reason through it while molding clay, painting the Bear and One-eyes scenes with hot dyed wax, or assembling muskets. But no matter how many items he completed, the answer wouldn’t come.

  He’d been working nearly nonstop for forty-eight hours. The capsule protected him from physical fatigue, but the mental drain was setting in. The silly mistakes were piling up. This last horn had taken nearly twice as long to carve as the first.

  There were still things he wanted to try. The melomel, the wild yeast recipe, the drinking horn, and that colorful etching pattern related to bees.

  And masonry was still practically untouched. He had to find time to grind some XP in it, too.

  Tempting as it was to dive in, he knew he had to take a step back. It was time to stop.

  He set down the horn and rubbed his face. His eyes burned, and for a second, all he wanted was to lie down somewhere dark and quiet.

  Jack gave his workbench one last look, then stepped out of the time field.

  He pulled up his messages. There was one from Holly.

  Yeah. The exam went well, thank you for asking! See you in the game later?

  He smiled faintly and sent her a thumbs-up. This time, he’d remembered to check his messages, and they’d been texting back and forth throughout the day. He still found it hard to believe that she kept replying.

  There was another from his parents.

  Want to join us for dinner tonight?

  He hesitated, thumb hovering over the reply. Then typed out a short message.

  Sorry, can’t tonight. Still in-game. Hope dinner’s good!

  He stared at the message for a moment longer, a pang of guilt rising—but he dismissed it. As much as he wanted to see them, he had to squeeze every second he could from the capsule.

  He stepped out onto the patio. The evening breeze carried the scent of sawdust and bitter herbs. Horace was still making shields on one side, while Marie mixed colorful liquids as she chatted with someone that should have been in the Sand Sea.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Rob?” Jack asked as he jogged over.

  “Hey, man.”

  “Are you back from your scouting expedition?”

  “In a way. I died.”

  Jack winced. “Sorry to hear that. What took you out?”

  “Some burrowing monster. Probably a Sand Worm. Didn’t even see it. Teeth, sand, darkness. Then—boom. I was dead.”

  “Yikes…”

  “No worries. Amari picked up what I dropped, so I didn’t lose much besides experience. And he’s still out there scouting,” Rob added, like dying was no more than a coffee break in a busy shift.

  Jack looked east, toward the distant Sand Sea. “I hope he makes it…”

  “He’s being extra cautious. We can only hope, now.”

  “What about the Sand Sea? What’s it like?”

  Even Horace and Marie paused to hear what Rob would say. They had never been there in person.

  Rob bobbed his head, weighing the words. “The climate debuffs are no joke. But since they’re percentage-based, they’re manageable. The place is crawling with giant insect beasts, and there are migrating herds, too.”

  “Migrating herds?” Jack asked.

  “Massive herds of dinosaurs that just keep marching across the dunes. You need a big team to hunt them.”

  “Cool!” Horace said.

  Jack could tell he was already fantasizing about tanking the whole thing.

  “The coolest thing is the rare materials. It’s just sand, more sand—and then bam! Out of nowhere, you spot a rare metal node, or the occasional lone tree with epic-grade wood just standing there in the dunes.”

  Horace perked up at that.

  “What about herbs?” Marie asked, curious.

  Rob smiled, and after operating his inventory, a flower appeared in his hand.

  Marie brought her hands to her mouth. Even Horace stood up to get a better look at the item.

  The flower was beautiful. Its petals were pale violet streaked with crimson veins, delicate and waxy. It was hard to imagine such a delicate thing growing in the unforgiving desert.

  Jack inspected it.

  Crescent Desert Flower (Epic)

  A rare bloom found only in the harshest reaches of deserts. Handle with care. Its oils are potent, and its scent is known to affect mood.

  Durability: 231

  Jack whistled softly. “An epic flower!”

  “Cool, uh? Leveled up in Herbalism after getting that.”

  “You lucky duck!” Marie said.

  “What about players?” Jack asked.

  Rob’s tone shifted, losing some of its earlier lightness. “Hardcore. Big groups, high 40s and even level 50s. We saw skirmishes more than once. Whole factions colliding out there.”

  “Sounds… dangerous,” Jack finally said.

  Horace stepped in. “All the more reason for us to prepare well. Changing subjects… Jack, you were cooped up the whole day. What were you up to?”

  “Well… you mentioned how expensive a caravan is, so I figured I’d do my part. I went all out—crafted a bunch of different things.”

  Horace raised an eyebrow. “Really? Mind if I take a look?”

  Jack gestured toward the workshop. “Be my guest.”

  Horace nodded and headed inside.

  Rob and Marie stayed back, chatting and laughing softly behind them. Rob had placed the flower on Marie’s head, and she was red as a tomato.

  He lingered for a moment, smiling to himself. Then turned and headed after Horace into the workshop.

  Horace, tall and broad-shouldered as ever, made the workshop feel smaller the moment he stepped inside. He gave the table a quick once-over, his eyes gliding past the ocarinas and pot hives but lingering on the sets of vases.

  Jack waved a hand over the table. “I focused on stuff only I can make. The muskets and flintlocks were just to level up Tinkering.”

  “They’ll sell well, too,” Horace said, picking up a musket and inspecting the workmanship.

  “What’s the deal with them, anyway? I didn’t even know there were weapons like that in the game. Is there a special class that uses them, or…?”

  “Not that I know of. They’re just too slow to reload. On the other hand, everyone can use them, even melee classes. That’s why some players like keeping one ready—for a finishing blow, to start a fight with a ranged hit, or to nail someone trying to run.”

  “Huh.” Jack nodded thoughtfully.

  “Guilds sometimes use them in formation, too. Right before the clash, they fire a coordinated volley to get an edge. In Naval warfare, that’s pretty standard tactics.”

  Jack tried to picture it—a line of musketeers. White smoke clouding the battlefield, the sudden crack of shots just before the lines slammed into each other.

  Horace moved on, scanning the rest of Jack’s work with the same thoughtful eye. He gave an approving nod. “Nice work, man. This is a solid haul. We might join an Eternian Auction much sooner than I was thinking.”

  Jack perked up. “About that… You mentioned it to Amari, but you never actually explained it to me.”

  Horace grinned and rubbed his hands together. Clearly, he’d been waiting for the chance to give this talk and was happy that Professor Amari wasn’t around to steal his thunder.

  “Eternia’s the capital. I’m guessing you haven’t been yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’ll love it. Great place for questing and farming titles. Anyway, Eternia has a central auction house. They run one big auction every other day at noon. If you want to enter, there’s a 1,000 gold entry fee.”

  Jack nearly choked. “A thousand?”

  Horace nodded.

  “But… why would I bother, when we’ve got auction websites that do the same thing for free?”

  Horace laughed. “Fair question. Here’s the catch: players aren’t the only ones bidding or auctioning off items.”

  Jack blinked. “Wait—what do you mean by that?” After a beat, his eyes widened. “NPCs?”

  “Yep. There are unique items in the game you can only get at this auction house. Think legendary items, Jack.”

  Jack’s fingers drifted to his ring. “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. Kraken’s flagship? He bought it at the Eternian Auction. Paid a million gold.”

  Jack paled. “A million?”

  “Yup. And that’s just one example. That’s why the big whales show up every time. Every self-respecting first-tier guild sends a rep at least once a week.”

  “I see… So with multiple guilds bidding against each other and the NPCs...”

  “Prices skyrocket,” Horace said. “So if we handpick our best stuff and sell it there, we could make fifty percent more than we would selling online. We just have to make sure the haul is big, or good enough to cover the entry fee.”

  Horace operated his menu and smiled. “There’s one in about 14 hours. And we are going to need as much gold as we can get before we set out for the Sand Sea. What do you say, Jack? Ready to show the world the stuff only you can make?”

  “Sure!”

  “That’s what I’m talking about! By the time the auction starts, Amari will probably have finished scouting the Hills and will be back already. He’ll want to sell stuff there, too. Anyway, I’m going to double down and craft as much as I can before we head out.”

  “Alright, then!”

  Horace’s enthusiasm had rubbed off on him. Part of Jack wanted to dive right back into crafting, but he needed a break.

  He left their base and headed for the slums.