To start, Harvey finally opened the System notification that had been hovering at the edge of his consciousness since he killed the bone spider.
You have slain Level 26 - Graveweaver. Essence Gained. 3298 Merit Earned.
Barely made it to F Grade before getting blown up. Good riddance. I don’t want to see what your stronger brothers look like. Harvey thought.
Moving to the skull half-buried in the soil, he gingerly picked it up. The bone was dry and smooth, with only minor bumps and dents covering the milky-white surface. Without the whirlpool orbs filling the empty eye sockets and the grotesque spider body holding it aloft, the skull looked just like something you’d see on an elementary school field trip to the museum.
You’ve gotta have a brain somewhere.
Turning it around, he found what he was looking for. Embedded inside the skull was a large, faceted crystal sharing the vibrant teal he’d begun to associate with the undead. Intricate runes were carved directly into the gem, lines continuing down towards each eye socket and stretching back to where the spine had held it aloft. Inspecting it with Artificer’s Eyes, Harvey found the name of the strange core.
Harvey blinked furiously, wondering if he was misreading the notification somehow. A stab of pain from his eye as he recklessly massaged it with his gauntleted finger broke his reverie, and he read the screen again.
Resonance crystal? Control Core? Constructs!
A few simple words opened a whole new world of possibilities. It sounded like these Graveweavers weren’t even living entities, just constructs made from old bones. Picking them up one after another revealed that they were all inscribed with runes matching the style on the skull, connecting every piece to a single massive array. In the end, the graveweaver’s body was just a hodgepodge of hands, feet, femurs, humeri, and spines. Inspecting them suggested they even came from various species, with only a small portion looking remotely human.
The only other part that caught his eye was a small piece of black metal carved and inscribed to create the silk that had eaten away at his Vitality. Artificer’s Eyes confirmed the runes weren’t random, but wasn’t able to name them.
I guess it makes sense that an F Grade skill wouldn’t translate every rune and inscription under the sun. I probably need to learn the runes before I can understand how to use them.
If he compared his runic style of inscriptions to coding, the Undead were using a language he hadn’t learned yet. The only reason inspecting the core had yielded any information at all was that it was common sense. A resonance crystal, being an essence crystal attuned to a specific concept, was easy enough to assume. Essence crystals were used for storage, and he’d already seen Undeath essence be used to siphon away lifeforce.
His skill knew those effects were possible, but it didn’t give much when inspecting the metal spinarets because his subconscious still didn’t understand how any of it worked. That didn’t matter too much, though, since he doubted an Undeath inscription would do much when fighting the Necrolords.
Putting the skull in his slipsack, he gathered up the bones and stacked them inside the empty saloon in case he found a use for them later. The once pristine clearing outside the walls was a mess after the explosion, so he took some time restoring it before burying a spare arc charge he’d kept for personal use with a new cache of crystals.
Now that Hannah and Julian were back to help him hunt, he’d have no problems making more.
Moving back into Veils End, he swung the gate closed behind him. The first order of business was preliminary testing of his firestarters. Harvey still had half a bottle of Campfire Ink left over from his very first attempt using the inkwell, and it wouldn’t be hard to make more. The once raging bonfire had burned down to cinders, leaving a pile of materials ready to be refined. The problem was figuring out whether a campfire was enough to set a still-living tree ablaze before it burned itself out. If it wasn’t, he’d have to find something else to add to the mix.
Melting a chunk of G Grade essence-infused iron, he prepared a similar mold to his arc charge that would let him encase an essence crystal. The process was much faster, without the need to carefully infuse carbon to refine the iron into steel, so his first batch would be ready for testing in a matter of hours.
In the meantime, Harvey snacked on his dinner rations, careful to only eat enough to satisfy his hunger instead of gorging himself full of steak, steamed carrots, and biscuits like he usually would. Any semblance of a diet disappeared the second he learned a magic mirror could summon boxes and boxes of food, and he figured spending his days hammering iron and killing monsters was exercise enough. Now that the mirror was nothing more than smooth glass wrapped in golden crystals, he forced himself to show at least a little self-control.
While his iron cooled inside the molds, he got to work melting the Steel that would become Julian’s sword. His eyes never left the crucible as he watched the temperature gauge hovering at the edge of his vision courtesy of Artificer’s Eyes. Infusing Steel had gotten easier the more he practiced, but there was no room for error in this batch. There couldn’t be.
Harvey felt a strange reverence overcome him, knowing that he was about to forge the weapon his best friend would carry into battle. The weapon that he knew, deep in his soul, would be the end of the Undead general. If Julian was going to lead them out of this trial, his sword had to be perfect.
In a way, Julian had become more myth than man to Harvey. With every passing day, the vision of a stock-standard fireman from California with a wife and two kids at home faded, replaced by a legendary guardian ready and willing to stand unbroken before a world desperate to cut him down. He knew it wasn’t fair to expect so much from his friend, but everything about him defied convention.
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They’d all been lost and afraid when the trial began, but instead of running away from danger, Julian ran towards it, saving both Harvey and Hannah’s lives. Instead of clamoring for power and control like Gary, Julian created a safe haven where all worked together to understand and overcome the System’s trial. Instead of seeing Harvey as the bruised and broken man he was, Julian had shown him who he could become when fear and doubt turned to creation and persistence.
The burning resolve in Julian’s heart to do whatever it takes to protect the innocent had manifested in a skill that transformed him from a mortal man into the Emberheart Vanguard that would lead Veils End home. Now, he just needed a sword capable of matching that stature.
His intention was to bounce between working on the weapon and his experiment, but he let himself get swept up in the process of forging his first blade. As the steel fused, he carefully molded each piece of the sword. The blade itself would only be roughly shaped, leaving Harvey to pull the edge out himself. Doing so would create a much stronger, sharper sword than simply casting it. Included in the molds for the pommel and crossguard were two carefully chosen essence crystals. Crafting a perfectly balanced blade was impossible without a sea of firsthand experience, but his massive pool of Wisdom combined with the data provided by Artificer’s Eyes helped him choose a set that offered the perfect mix of weight and storage capacity to maximize the sword’s lethality.
A fire or steel resonance crystal would be even better, but he had no idea if those were found out in the wilderness somewhere or made through an alchemical process he didn’t understand. The fact that they existed at all expanded the horizons of his future crafting efforts, but none could be walked through with his current limitations.
His hands steady as a statue, Harvey locked his tongs around the crucible and carefully poured into the molds. Dozens of similar pours had trained him to maintain precise control as each piece was fed exactly what it needed. Pouring the excess into a cast of a simple ingot, he anxiously waited for the metal to cool.
Steel didn’t take long to harden once poured, so he broke out the smallest pieces first. Bathing the now black crossguard in the flames, he held it until the metal had returned to bright red before banging away with his hammer. Despite being cast in roughly the shape he wanted, taking the time to hammer each piece by hand forced the metal to fuse tighter, compressing the grain and working out any internal flaws. Artificer’s Eyes helped him see every imperfection buried beneath the surface, and he didn’t stop until the guard was as perfect as his F Grade Skill and tools would allow.
Piece by piece, the sword was prepared, culminating with the blade itself. Pulling steel to a razor’s edge on both sides of a 3-foot blade was painstakingly slow, made even worse by the constant need to reheat the blade, but Harvey barely noticed. The clangor of hammer against steel, the bone-shaking rattle from fighting to hold the blade at the perfect angle, and the scorching heat of the forge all melted away as his mind became one with the edge.
He didn’t need Artificer’s Eyes to show him the various nicks and imperfections of his edge. He just knew. Whether by essence or intuition, he became a vessel with one singular purpose. It took hours, dozens of reheats, and even a few drops of blood as he tested the steel against his own fingers, but eventually the blade on the anvil matched the one in his head.
It was only then that he heard the pounding on the front door.
“Harvey? Harvey, are you in there!” Julian yelled.
The heavy bars holding it shut rattled precariously, and he dove around the anvil to pry them loose before Julian ripped the brackets out of the walls.
“Coming! Just hold on a sec!” Harvey shouted back. When the door opened, the pair stared back at him with concern.
“What happened? We’ve been knocking for minutes!” Julian exhaled.
“Umm, nothing? I just got a bit distracted, that’s all,” Harvey winced.
“Distracted? Too distracted to hear us screaming?” Hannah laughed.
“Just hold on. I promise you won’t be mad when you see this,” Harvey pleaded, ushering them inside and dunking the blade in the trough full of water. As the steam cleared, he held it aloft for the others to see.
“Is that?” Julian asked.
“Your sword,” Harvey grinned.
“Where’s the rest of it? Aren’t swords supposed to have fancy bits that show you’re a knight or something?” Hannah asked.
“I have them heating up a bit so I can get it all tempered. Do you have the antlers for the handle? Was Buttercup able to evolve?” Harvey asked.
“Yes, he did,” Hannah gushed. “My handsome boy got even handsomer if you can believe it. Oh yes, he did. Who’s a good buck? You are! You are!”
The deer standing around the corner clopped into view, and Harvey couldn’t deny the upgrade was impressive. Before, he could’ve easily been mistaken for a whitetail deer back on Earth. Now, his appearance matched the magic hidden inside his wiry muscles and stalwart antlers.
Where his old antlers were a ruddy brown, his new rack almost looked like marble, with green and gold hues intermixed with pristine white. His back was almost twice as tall as before, looking more like a horse than a deer. It was weird to have the buck looking down at him, the same green and gold ringing the eyes staring straight back at him. Maybe it had just been the circumstances he met the deer under, but Harvey had always imagined a small, timid voice speaking back whenever Hannah used her telepathy skill to speak to Buttercup. Now, he imagined the voice of a man, proud and strong, with the luxuriant brown coat to match.
“Damn,” was all Harvey could mutter.
“I know, right?” Hannah smiled. “He’s called a Grove Sentinel now.”
“Did evolving give him any new abilities? Like the Bloodrunn’s tines letting them use blood magic?” Harvey asked.
“It’s mostly just physical changes. Stronger antlers, larger muscles, denser coat, and a few other things. He did say his antlers can help purify any poison in the air, which is great for me,” she cheered.
“That’s amazing. You’re amazing, Buttercup!” Harvey smiled.
The buck stamped his foot with a huff, striking a pose that showed off his new and improved physique.
“He says thanks! I’ve been translating for you,” Hannah preened. “Here are the biggest of his old antlers.”
Buttercup stamped again, nudging Hannah with his new rack. She looked at him with a stern expression, patting his nose only for him to stamp again.
“What’s wrong? We don’t have to use them if he doesn’t want…” Harvey asked.
“That’s not it. He wants you to use one of his new ones. I told him it wouldn’t matter and that his old set was plenty, but he won’t listen,” Hannah sighed.
“I mean, there will be a grade mismatch between the sword and the handle, but a G Grade antler is better than regular old wood,” Harvey explained.
“Really? Is using an old one going to be a problem?” she asked.
“Not a problem, just not as good as it could be. All it should affect is the quality of the inscriptions I can add to the handle. A G Grade antler can only accept G Grade inscriptions, but I don’t even know what I want to inscribe yet.”
“Don’t tell me that,” she groaned. “Buttercup won’t let me hear the end of it if I tell him.”
“I mean, you don’t have to. It’s not like he can understand me,” Harvey chuckled.
“What kind of mom would I be if I kept secrets from my babies?” she gasped. They waited a moment until Buttercup stamped again, nudging Harvey with his antlers.
“Alright, take two. One for Julian’s and one for mine,” she groaned.
“With what? I’m not going to chisel it off?” Harvey complained.
“I’ll do it,” Julian offered, stepping up to the deer with sword in hand. “Thank you, Buttercup.”
He rested his head against the deer’s before carefully sawing off two tines. Buttercup didn’t move an inch, stalwartly waiting as each was removed. Using the old chisel and punch that Harvey had given him, Julian struggled to carve a notch for the tang while Harvey finished tempering the steel. Using ungraded tools to carve into an F Grade antler wasn’t easy, but Julian’s overbearing strength and careful precision eventually got the job done.
Piece by piece, the sword came together. When the pommel finally anchored everything into place, they gathered around to admire Harvey’s work. A brilliant light reflected off the steel as Harvey’s profession leveled once again, proving the System accepted the blade.
He didn’t care.
Handing the sword to Julian, his eyes lit up as the steel ensemble he’d worked so hard to craft was finally complete. Stepping out into the midnight air, Julian donned his helmet and began swinging his new blade, covered head to toe in Harvey’s creations.
Knowing his friend trusted him enough to carry his weapon and wear his armor into battle was more important than any profession levels that crafting the equipment could provide. It felt good to know that, thanks to him, they were likely the two most well-equipped Veilstriders in the entire trial.
A brilliant crack filled the air as Julian sent a two-handed overhead swing into one of the logs they’d used as a bench around the fire, cutting straight through like melted butter.
“It’s perfect,” Julian smiled.

