Harvey’s weave entered the inkwell alongside his blood, and he kept bleeding himself until he started to feel lightheaded. Being forced to use your own blood as the base for any ink created a natural limit to how much ink an inscriber could make, and Harvey was dancing along the edge as he began his second large batch of the day. This time, instead of crushing the core outside the cauldron, he plopped the entire cloudy gray diamond into the cauldron.

  Immediately, the will of the elemental rose to face him. Instead of a trickle of power raging against his mind, it felt like the real thing had been resurrected inside his own aura. Panic overcame him as his weave was assaulted once more, but this time he didn’t have his armor to protect him. Echoes of the pain he’d endured when the first F Grade destroyed his Soul Forged armor made his brain short-circuit, leaving him utterly defenseless.

  Luckily, the latent will of the creature was nothing compared to its iron body. Instead of devastating punches, its fists were reduced to obnoxious tapping on the threads of his weave. Harvey’s soul mustered the force of 195 points in Willpower, engulfing the elemental like the shadows of the Moonshade Stalker trying to choke him. Instinctively, he ground down the core, removing the rage, hope, and desire animating the resonances hidden deep within. Piece by piece, the vision of the metal man in his mind was destroyed, leaving only a mess of components ready to be sifted through.

  Harvey watched in amazement as the crystal crumbled apart, leaving only sand and steely blue light caged inside the cauldron. His aura could never destroy an object like that in the real world, but the glowing runes of the inkwell turned the struggle from a physical battle to a spiritual one. The latent will was subdued, and he stripped away every aspect until the essence was nothing more than a means of storing energy. The remaining core sand inside the bowl began to disintegrate, wafting out of the cauldron before dispersing into pure essence.

  He hadn’t noticed this phase of the reaction refining the light ink because there were no competing resonances to strip away. Campfire coals were designed for light, so almost all of the material could be absorbed into the ink. Stripping away everything that made an elemental core the heart of a beast until all that was left was the energy storage meant discarding much of the unrelated essence.

  I guess the purity of the material is going to be important after all.

  Elena must already know all of this, but hadn’t taken the time to teach him much about it. That made sense, though. Until a few days ago, she thought all the ink he used would have to come from her. They hadn’t even been sure that integrating inscriptions into his Profession was possible until he evolved.

  With only the essence of kinetic energy storage remaining, his massive pool of Willpower effortlessly infused it into his blood. Like charging a battery, he only had to guide the light into the waiting arms of his blood cells, each drinking in the essence as their nature was rewritten. Once all the essence found a home, the inkwell gently expelled his weave as the runes went dark.

  You have created | Kinetic Ink | F Grade | Uncommon. Essence Gained

  Inspecting it, he reviewed the changes now that he’d properly infused enough energy for the System to grade it as Uncommon.

  “Finally!” Harvey cheered, his voice scratchy and tired.

  The first half of the ink he needed was ready. The potency only being medium was slightly disappointing, but having properly gone through the process, he knew he either needed less blood or more cores if he wanted a better result. He’d love to dive right into another batch and shoot for a stronger result, but time was not on his side. For now, he’d inscribe the first half of his inscriptions before sleeping while his bone marrow replenished the blood he lost.

  I wonder if I have more blood now... Or if higher Vitality helps me replenish somehow?

  He had no idea, but knew tackling the ink for the second half was ill-advised at the moment. So, he climbed off the stool and retrieved the bits that would become his pen. The system hadn’t given him a notification for an inscriber’s pen or anything after quenching the parts, and he wasn’t quite sure what that meant. It could be that he was the first to attempt something like this, but he highly doubted it.

  Humans started making pens in… gosh, I have no clue. Honestly, I’d believe Ancient Egypt or the Industrial Revolution.

  There was no way the System didn’t already know his intentions, so it either wouldn’t work or the notification would only come after he had successfully implemented his creation. Grabbing the hollow tube, he slid in the tip and ball bearing that he hoped would become his magical ballpoint pen. Using an empty potion vial, he scooped up some of his ink before carefully pouring it into the tube. Without a funnel, the blood got everywhere, more than half glooping over his fingers before running down the steel shaft and dripping back into the cauldron. The texture was strange, but he managed to keep his cool as he struggled to fill the pen. The ink squelched out of the threads as he screwed in his cap, before wiping it all down with a rag.

  Gross. System, any notifications for me?

  Nope. Nothing.

  Still mildly hopeful, he grabbed a piece of scrap-infused iron and tried drawing a basic storage rune. Instead of rolling smoothly, leaving a thin coat of his blood ink, the ball bearing was pushed higher in the tube, letting ink gush out until he lifted it off the iron. Runic inscriptions like his needed clean lines, not goopy puddles.

  “Damn it! Right idea, wrong execution,” he sighed. Unscrewing the cap and pouring the ink into one of the glass bottles he’d bought from John’s mirror.

  Luckily, he’d already forged his backup plan and retrieved the simple metal spike that would be his brush. Transferring the rest of the cauldron’s contents into a bottle, he cleared his workspace and retrieved his weapon.

  The shining steel warhammer glittered in the dying light of the forge, begging him to finally take his first swing. Knowing what he did about crafting under the System, he was sure at least a tiny piece of his own will had been infused into the weapon. Dipping the spike into the ink, he got to work.

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  He’d been planning the design for over a day and had settled on inscribing multiple rings of chained dampening, dispersion, and absorption runes running down the handle before being stored in an array of batteries just above the grip. Having multiple rings was probably overkill, but he wanted the redundancy to make sure a strong opponent couldn’t overload his system.

  Each rune was like a function being called by an application. He could simplify the app to a simple absorb-and-store process, but what if the absorb received more data than it could handle? Feed it too much, and the whole system would crash, leaving his arm to bear the brunt of the recoil. Adding the extra bits and pieces to dampen and disperse excess vibrations would hopefully ensure the primary goal of his inscriptions – allowing him to swing without injuring himself – wouldn’t fail.

  Even if that increased the time it took to charge the lightning effect, that was fine. More than an offensive inscription, he wanted that to be a productive way to release all the pent-up energy rattling around inside his weapon.

  Starting halfway between the top of his grip and the hammer head, he began carefully drawing his runes, stringing together the inputs and outputs in a complex calligraphy. His first set skewed more towards absorption, with an 80/20 split of gathering power and dampening it. Making sure to leave a failsafe where his array would simply let the vibrations pass if the first ring couldn’t contain them, he inscribed the second ring to be closer to 50/50. The final ring was almost fully composed of dampen and dispersion runes, making sure that any vibrations strong enough to breach his defenses would never reach his hands.

  Finally, he inscribed the battery of storage runes. Dense scripts covering every inch of the steel to make sure it held as much power as possible. Inscribing was more than just drawing fine lines. It was his Willpower struggling to shape the ink to serve his purposes.

  Coding was as simple as syntax. It did exactly what you told it to, every time, to the point that a developer like him could waste hours looking for a comma or semicolon out of place. Inscribing was different. It was a blend of what you drew and what you meant, meaning you couldn’t get by on guesswork.

  You have inscribed | Vibration Array | Essence Gained.

  Success.

  The fact that the system acknowledged his effort proved he’d accomplished his goal. Picking up the hammer, his fingers flexed around the leather strips, and his weave entered the weapon. Soul Forge wasn’t restricted to armor, and he felt the weapon harden as his endurance reinforced the steel. Carefully, he tapped the flat face against the workbench.

  Nothing.

  He felt nothing! It was even better than a wooden handle. His infantry hammer would dampen the impact, but swinging full strength at an elemental still rang his bell. With this, his weave would start to ache before his hands ever did! Luckily, he could sever the connection with his weapon before using it led to hurting himself.

  Tapping his workbench over and over, he watched the battery runes begin to glow faintly. Each impact intensified the effect until it looked as if the ink had turned neon blue. Without a way to expel the energy, he’d have to let it dissipate on its own. If he could complete the inscription that turned his hammer from gimmick to godly, he would. But he was just too tired and drained of blood to finish tonight.

  Dragging himself to his feet, he stumbled the cauldron outside, where he cleaned it once more so it would be ready for him the second he woke up. His feet felt like lead as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Barreling back into the smithy, he plopped the inkwell on a table before collapsing into his cot. In seconds, he was asleep.

  In minutes, he was awake. Not actually minutes since the first rays of dawn were peaking through the window, but it felt that way. He groaned before rolling out of the cot, letting his body crash to the floor.

  “Time to get up!” He yelled, scrambling back to the inkwell before clumsily slicing his hand. Once again, blood dripped into the bowl, lulling the inkwell awake as pain snapped his mind into focus.

  I should probably have eaten first… oh well, too late.

  Seeing as the only material with any lightning resonance on hand was essence-infused steel, he grabbed an ingot he’d prepared the day before. Initially, he’d planned on shaving it into some powder, but now he knew the inkwell would help him grind it down to what he needed.

  Dropping it into the bowl, he felt a weaker apparition of the elemental rise up to face him. The form matched what he’d felt from the core, but with only a tenth of the force behind it. It made sense that most of the latent will of an elemental would be held in its core, and it only made the next part easier for Harvey.

  Bit by bit, he broke down the steel, spiritually feeling his way through the trapped essence while gathering the specks of energy he wanted. There was barely any, the lightning resonance making up less than 5% of the ingot’s magical makeup. Luckily, the material was incapable of contesting his unbreakable will, so he only had to add more ingots until he gathered what he hoped would be enough. Letting the residual energies go up in smoke, he carefully weaved the resonance into his blood. As an extension of his will, the inkwell knew exactly what he was looking for, so the intricate runes carved into its surface all went dark the second the last smidge of lightning was gone.

  A new creation has been made | Lightning Ink | F Grade | Rare | Major Essence Gained.

  It was perfect. It may have taken every scrap of steel he’d prepared for today’s work, but he could always get more of that. Wasting no time, he dipped his steel brush straight into the inkwell, connecting his new ink to the empty output threads of his kinetic batteries. Inscribing long, thick channels to carry the energy out past the farthest ring, he began creating the runes that would transform it all from raw, kinetic potential into the lightning that would ravage his enemies' insides.

  The entire upper half of his handle was dedicated to transforming and refining his lightning until two thin channels split off towards either end of the head. Carefully, he inscribed one burst rune in the center of the flat face of the hammer head before adding another just above the tip of the warpick.

  You have inscribed | Lightning Transformation Array | Essence Gained.

  You have inscribed | Lightning Burst Array | Essence Gained.

  Your profession, Runeforged Artificer, has reached Level 29. +8 Endurance, +10 Strength, +4 Dexterity, +12 Willpower, +8 Free Points

  Harvey barely noticed the surge of power blazing within his weave.

  “Harvey? You awake?” Hannah called, pushing the door open.

  His subconscious ignored her, urging him to grab his weapon and barrel out the back door. His body listened.

  “Harvey? Wait up, man!” Julian yelled, bursting into the yard behind him.

  With reckless abandon, he sprinted up to the nearest tree and took a heavy swing at the trunk. Again, his hands felt nothing as the inscription began to glow. He swung again and again, the batteries fully charged after his fifth swing. Having nowhere to put the vibrations, the absorption runes went offline, but the dampening and dispersion effects still left him barely feeling the recoil of each strike.

  It was nice to see his plan still worked even when the batteries were full, but all he cared about in that moment was the fact that it was finally go time. With an exultant shout, he made a massive overhead swing and released the floodgates holding back the energy stored in the handle. The air crackled as his hammer caved in the bark, a web of electricity arcing between the trunk and branches high above. He could feel some of the bolts aching to connect with his own skin, but as a product of his own Willpower, he was able to direct them away. The smell of burnt wood filled his nostrils as the hammer fell to his side.

  “Yes!!!! Finally!” He shouted, falling to his knees on the steaming forest floor. He wanted to stand, but he couldn’t. He’d crafted a complete set of steel armor, attempted three batches of ink, and fully inscribed his F Grade weapon… all in one day. Even with a few hours of sleep, he was exhausted. So, instead of pulling himself to his feet, he fell face-first into the dirt.

  I’ll just lie here for a while.