Chronicles Of The Crafting Hero

Tyler looked at the system panel and smirked to himself. "Huh... It actually worked," he thought.

The system panel disappeared, and he turned to follow the river downstream. He moved steadily, the sound of rushing water guiding him as he tracked the flowing current. He continued along the riverbank until he saw the crossing points where the stones formed a natural path over the water.

He then stepped onto the stones, carefully crossing the river. Mid-cross, Tyler thought to himself, *I started having a fear of crossing this river after I got attacked by that lurker.*

*Funny.* He smirked. *Now I kinda want it to attack me.*

He reached the other side, feeling a flicker of relief as he entered the clearing in the middle of the night. The sight ahead was the hunter base.

He walked toward it and entered. But something about the base felt off. Something didn't sit right. As he moved closer to the big tent in the distance, he noticed the strange emptiness.

The base looked almost deserted, only a few hunters roamed around, lazily going about their business. He weren't in the main area, and when he approached the tent, he saw there were only about five hunters inside. There was no one at the counter.

*What's going on?* he wondered, confusion creeping into his mind as he stepped closer to the counter.

He saw the young man he had seen before, the one who took night shifts after Serena.

The young man looked to be exhausted, his eyelids drooping as he used his hand to rest his head on his elbow, which was propped on the counter. Some drool slipped from his mouth as his eyelids slowly closed.

Tyler then arrived and said, "Hey."

The young man's eyes snapped wide open. He quickly sat upright, his face tense. "Sorry, sir, how can I help you?" he said, his voice louder than he intended, a bit startled by the sudden presence.

The man then suddenly realized it was Tyler, and he said, "Oh, it's you." His face relaxed, and he sighed in relief. "Yeah," Tyler replied, lowering his voice slightly.

The man then asked, "Are you here to take a quest?"

"No," Tyler answered, shaking his head.

The man then noticed Tyler's exhausted expression and immediately said, "You look really tired. Did you find what you were looking for?"

Tyler nodded. "Yeah... what's going on? Why are there so few people today?"

The man's eyes widened in surprise. "Huh? You don't know?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tyler then said, "Don't know what?"

"Well, apparently, there's no sign of monsters in this zone," the man explained. **"Hunters came to hunt, but they only found a few. Those few were eventually hunted by the other hunters that came here earlier."

Tyler then thought to himself, *Oh, it's because of us, isn't it.* He then said aloud, "Oh, I didn't notice. I came here to return and complete a quest I took during the day."

The man then said, "Oh, you didn't notice... okay. What kind of quest did you take?"

Tyler replied, "It was a C-rank quest. I came back with six Draco hides, and they were all above level 40."

The man's eyes widened in shock. "Six Draco hides? Really? Where are they?"

Tyler then held out both his hands as if ready to receive something. Suddenly, six Draco hides materialized in his palms with a faint blue glow, appearing out of thin air. The glow faded as he placed them softly on the counter with a gentle thud.

The man was surprised. He hesitated for a moment, then said, "Right, let me take this."

He lifted the hides, stacking them together while groaning under the effort. He was surprised at how heavy they were, considering Tyler had lifted them so effortlessly. He placed them behind the counter and sighed, "There we go."

He then took out the quest flyers and started going through them, thinking, *Honestly, I thought the Black Cloud Guild members had killed all the monsters in there. Since they were with Jason, I thought it was hopeless for a hunter to go in there.*

Tyler then said, "So, there aren't a lot of hunters because there are no monsters, huh?"

The man looked at Tyler, then nodded. "Yeah, most of them have gone to another hunter base. A yellow tier one, of course."

Tyler rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So, there's another yellow-tier monster zone nearby?"

The man shook his head, continuing his search for Tyler's quest flyer. "No, it's not nearby, and it's not far either... Ah, I found it." He then retrieved Tyler's quest flyer and set it aside.

The man put the other quest flyers into the drawers behind the counter. Tyler then signed his last signature and collected 18 gold coins. He looked at them in his hand and thought, * Should be worth a bit more..* The gold coins suddenly disappeared into his inventory.

Tyler then headed for the exit of the tent, eyeing the other hunters sitting on the wooden benches inside. They looked at him with calculating gazes, mixed with confusion. Tyler looked away and exited the tent.

He paused outside and thought, *I don't blame them for eyeing me like that. They probably searched for monsters only to find none, and then I suddenly came in and delivered six Draco hides.*

He sighed, then stretched. "I'm so tired. I should sleep here. I'll go to the shop tomorrow."

He then walked to the inn, and once inside, he booked his room for the night. When he entered the room, Tyler stood with his arms spread wide, then unequipped the Hex Horn armor. After that, he collapsed onto the bed, sinking into the mattress. He laid back, arms behind his head like a pillow, and thought, *I need to craft more items and put them in the shop.*

The plush mattress welcomed Tyler's form as he shifted onto his back, the familiar comfort a momentary solace against the storm brewing within. The low light of the chamber, filtered by the heavy curtains, painted shifting shadows upon the ceiling above, mirroring the turmoil of his thoughts.

*I'm planning on letting everyone know that I'm the one who crafted the items. I want to spread my name as the craftsman who crafted those shields, the one who crafted all those things.* The words echoed within his mind, a whisper of ambition battling the rising tide of apprehension. *But there is one problem with that. If I spread my name like this, people will know who I am, eventually leading to the Black Cloud Guild knowing who I am as well. I'll be easily traceable. They will be able to find me.* The realization struck like a cold gust of wind. *And now that I've killed more of their members... I'm sure I've added more wood to the fire. So I've got to prepare myself. I have to be alert.*

He turned again, the soft rustle of the bedding a subtle sound in the stillness. He stared, unblinking, at the ceiling, the darkness above offering no answers, only the reflection of his own swirling conflict. *But, I'm not going to hide at all. I'm going to craft things. I'm not going to let this stop me from achieving the things I want to do. I want to be known. I want to be something more than just what I was in my past life. and with the help of the system I'm going to do it. The system has also given me goals. I'm going to reach level 100*

Tyler's voice, though internal, held a newfound resolve. He extended his hand towards the ceiling, his fingers curling inwards as he closed his palm into a fist. A smile, tentative at first, then growing into a fierce curve, blossomed on his face. *I'm gonna become an a-rank I'm gonna go even beyond that I'm gonna have my own shop, more than one. I'm gonna be someone great.*

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A soft chuckle escaped him, a breath of sound in the quiet room. He settled his hands beneath his head, the makeshift pillow a small comfort as he closed his eyes, the weight of his dreams settling upon him.

The last vestiges of night relinquished their hold as the celestial tapestry, once thick with twinkling stars, began to unravel, consumed by the nascent embrace of dawn. Within the shadowed confines of the Black Cloud Guild's mansion, a room of harsh simplicity bore witness to the aftermath of a harrowing experience.

The rough-hewn floor, marred with imperfections and littered with a chaotic sprawl of discarded clothing, spoke of hurried movements and a lack of care. A single bed, tucked away in a quiet corner, provided a focal point of stillness, a stark contrast to the disarray. Upon that bed, Mani was curled tightly, her knees drawn to her chest, her face buried against them, a self-imposed shield against the world.

Her dark hair, usually meticulously combed, was now a tangled mess, further emphasizing her vulnerability. Silivia, clad in her polished light metal armor, stood nearby, her expression a careful balance of pity and inquisitive observation. The cold gleam of her armor reflected the faint morning light, the polished surface mirroring the turmoil in the room.

Mani's form was draped in a simple, cerulean dress, the thin fabric clinging to her frame without pattern, a fragile contrast to the protective armor she had shed. The dress, clearly not designed for comfort or warmth, was now marked with a telltale dampness on the back, a dark patch that hinted at the recent storm that had wracked her being. Silivia, her gaze sweeping over the other woman, thought, *I never thought anything like this could happen. I didn't think crystal mages had such a huge flaw. To think that every time someone dies that she used that skill on , she not only sees it in a vision, but she feels almost everything. That is why she panicked so much. That is why she ended up like this. I feel almost sorry for her.*

Silivia then approached Mani's bed, taking only a few steps, and she said, "Mani, I really want to help you."

Mani, still crouched in the corner, lifted her head only slightly. Her arms remained protectively across her face. Her eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and exhaustion, and her body was still trembling. Her voice, a fragile whisper as she said, "please don't come any closer."

Silivia began, "But I'm just trying to-" but was cut off as Mani's voice, louder than she intended, broke through the silence with a sharp, "No!" The echo of the word reverberated within the confines of the room. Her voice then returned to a fragile whisper, "Just... please get out and lock the door."

Silivia sighed, the sound a soft puff of air in the tense atmosphere. "Alright," she conceded. She then turned, her footsteps echoing softly on the rough floor as she moved out of the room and into the hallway. Reaching back, she quietly closed the door, the latch clicking softly. However, she hesitated, and did not lock it. She stared at the closed door, her expression a mask of conflicting emotions. *I can't help her right now. Why am I being concerned anyways? This... has nothing to do with me. It's the guild's business anyways.* Her thoughts, though, did not fully convince her. She then turned, her stride becoming firm, and walked away, her face expressionless, not showing a hint of the pity she had felt just moments before.

As she moved through the dim hallway, her gaze scanned the area, and she then saw a female hunter. The hunter was clad in worn leather pants and a matching leather chest armor, the signs of many battles evident in the worn fabric. A quiver, filled with the fletched ends of arrows, was strapped to her back, hinting at her skill as an archer. She was dark-skinned, with short, closely cropped black hair, her features sharp and alert. It was Anna, one of the guild's members, and she was heading towards Silivia. Anna stopped in front of Silivia, her gaze direct. "Hey, the boss told me to tell you that the hunter Jason came back with is now conscious. They need you."

Silivia's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. "Oh, she's now conscious?"

"Yeah," Anna replied, turning and beginning to walk back in the direction from which she came. Silivia fell into step beside her. "So you want me to do as you guys said?"

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you a question about that. Where did you learn to do that?" Anna asked, her curiosity piqued.

Silivia looked at Anna and said, "That's a secret." Her expression was a study in controlled seriousness, almost professional. The lines of her face were tight, her gaze unwavering.

Silivia then turned her gaze forward, following Anna's lead as they walked, their footsteps echoing softly in the corridor. Anna also turned her gaze, focused on the path ahead, but her thoughts, at odds with the present, swirled within her mind. *I still don't believe what they actually told me. How can someone who looks like this be actually good at torture?* The image of Silivia, her controlled demeanor, seemed to contradict everything Anna knew about the grim profession. *She doesn't look like the type, her attitude, she's too nice, she looks serious right now, but I've actually met people who do the kind of things she does, and they look nothing like this. Most of them are messed up, people can't even hold long conversations with them.* *Yet, she walks and talks like she never did this kind of thing. Well, I guess I'll see when she does it.*

Silivia then turned to Anna, interrupting her thoughts, saying, "Where is she being held right now?"

"Oh, she's being held in the cellar," Anna replied, her voice flat.

"Then I'm guessing we're heading there?" Silivia inquired.

"Yes, Jason's father and sister are waiting for us there," Anna confirmed.

Silivia sighed. "Oh. Did they try questioning her yet?"

"Yes, but she's not saying anything. They even hit her a couple of times. But she's still not saying anything. Although she did say she wants to see our captain. But he's not here right now. He is on a hunt," Anna explained, her tone betraying a hint of frustration.

Silivia sighed, the sound a weary exhalation. "What kind of captain goes on a hunt in a situation like this?"

Anna offered no response to the question, and they continued their journey in silence. Meanwhile, back in Mani's room, the door a silent barrier against the outside world, she still trembled, the aftershocks of her actions rippling through her. *Why? Why did I ever do this? Why did I ever join this to begin with?* The weight of her decisions pressed down upon her, a suffocating burden.

Mani's thoughts swirled in her mind, a torrent of self-recrimination and fear. *I can't even deactivate the skill. Why did I ever use it? Why? Why? Why? Why am I so stupid? It feels like I'm dying every time. I'm so scared.* The fear was all consuming. *I want to get out of here, but I don't want to go outside. I don't want to be left alone, but I'm scared of being close to someone. I don't know what's going on with me. I don't want to die, but I want it all to end.*

Tears streamed from Mani's eyes, tracing paths down her cheeks and sinking into the damp fabric of her dress, adding to the moisture already there. Her cries were muffled, her teeth clenched to prevent any sound from escaping, as if she was afraid to even make a sound. She then muttered, "I don't want anyone else to die. If they die, I feel like I'm dying with them."

As Mani succumbed to despair, Silivia arrived in the cellar. She descended the stone stairs, the darkness of the cellar immediately engulfing her. Even though the morning light was starting to filter into the world, inside the cellar, a deep, oppressive darkness reigned. The room was vast, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and a disturbing, almost sickly, odor, reminiscent of something dead. Lit torches cast flickering shadows, dancing across the rough-hewn walls. Silivia and Anna entered, their faces illuminated by the orange glow of the torches. They saw Sabrina and her father standing beside a figure seated on a chair. The figure was blindfolded, bound to the chair with tightly wound wire. The wire was so constricting that it had cut into the person's arms and legs, causing them to bleed slightly.

Grant, Sabrina's father, his arms crossed over his chest, turned as he saw Silivia enter. "Took you long enough," he said, his voice gruff.

Silivia replied, "I was busy trying to help out Mani. That skill really seems to be troubling her."

Sabrina sighed, a sound of impatience. "Don't trouble yourself with her, she's useless at this point, honestly we can't deal with something like this, even Malisa couldn't help her, so what the hell can we do, we just need to throw her off our guild," she stated, her tone devoid of empathy.

Silivia responded, "Oh, that's a bit cold, you know she actually used this skill to help you out. Shouldn't you be helping her out in return?"

"We have no time for that," Sabrina stated dismissively. "You know why you're here, aren't you?"

Silivia did not reply, instead turning her gaze to the woman bound to the chair. The woman was slowly breathing, her chest rising and falling with a measured rhythm. Bruises marred her body, and her face bore the marks of recent violence, the damage there appearing fresh. Long, silver hair cascaded down her back. She was looking at Rebecca. Rebecca was listening to everything that they were saying, but she didn't reply. Her face was lowered downward, as if she were not even present.

Anna thought, *I wonder what she's going to do with her. I've never seen someone getting tortured before, probably because I can handle seeing it.*

Anna then announced, "Alright, I'm heading back," and proceeded to walk towards the stairs.

Sabrina then stated, "We asked her some questions but this bitch just wouldn't talk."

Silivia then asked, "What kind of questions did you ask her?"

Grant replied, "We asked her her name, and she wouldn't tell us. And then we asked her about her relationship with the hunter that we're searching for. We asked her a lot of questions, but she wouldn't budge. While we were asking her, she suddenly told us she'll only talk if we bring the captain. But the captain is on a hunt right now. He wants to reach S-Rank. He'll probably be back by noon."

Silivia said, "Well alright then." She then turned to Sabrina and stated, "We'll just have to wait for the captain. You said he's coming at noon, right? There's no rush. If she doesn't speak when the captain arrives, that's when I'll interrogate her."

Sabrina demanded, "What? Why won't you interrogate her right now? We need answers."

Silivia looked at Sabrina, her expression serious, a bit contorted with anger. But she sounded a bit calm saying, "You know I don't like to do this. You of all people know that I was forced to know all these torturing methods from my father and I don't like to use them. We'll wait for the captain," Silivia said, and she immediately turned and walked up the stairs.

Sabrina then exclaimed, "Damn it, why won't she just listen? Father, why are you just keeping calm like this? Can't you at least I try to convince her?"

Sabrina's father responded, "She wouldn't even if I tried. Plus, I want to know why she wants the captain. I want the interrogation to happen while the captain is here."

Sabrina then demanded, "So that's it? We're just going to wait for the captain to come? We're not going to do anything? We're not going to get even a bit of information before the captain comes? You know that he is going to be disappointed, right?" Her voice, sharp and laced with impatience, echoed in the damp, dimly lit cellar.

Sabrina's father looked at her, his face a mask of barely controlled fury. The lines around his eyes deepened as he glared, his voice sounding a bit deeper as he said, "And you think I care about that?" The flickering torchlight danced across his features, highlighting the harsh planes of his face.

Sabrina felt a flicker of fear, a subtle tightening in her chest, and stammered, "No, but-"

The father then interrupted her, his voice cutting through the air, "We'll wait for the captain. There's something about this girl that I need to talk to him about."

Sabrina asked, "What?" The question hung in the air, unanswered.

The father looked at Sabrina, ignoring her question, and said, "Let's go." He turned, his heavy footsteps already moving toward the stone steps leading upwards.

Sabrina looked at the girl, her face contorted with anger as she clenched her teeth. The veins in her neck stood out, a testament to her rising rage. Her father was already ascending the stairs, the shadows of the cellar clinging to him as he went. Rebecca, using her perception skill, could see through the black blindfold, a small detail that offered her some comfort. A subtle smile crept onto her face as she observed Sabrina's angry expression, a small act of defiance in the face of her predicament.

Sabrina saw the smile and the anger exploded, consuming her. She then spat out, "Fuck you," the words venomous, and followed her father up the stairs, her steps echoing with a frustrated rhythm.

Rebecca then thought to herself, *Thank goodness I didn't go into a coma, but I think it's all thanks to Jason. I don't know what he did to bring me back, but I've heard mages can do that, right? When the captain stands right in front of me, I'm going to kill him. I don't care if they kill me afterwards, as long as he's dead.* Her resolve was as firm as the cold stone beneath her.

Meanwhile, as the events unfolded in the cellar, Tyler, roused from sleep, was already outside the inn. He moved with a quiet urgency, bypassing the basic necessities of the morning. He did not pause to cleanse his face nor did he seek any sustenance. Instead, he moved with purpose towards the back of the tent. He scratched his head, a gesture of thought, and stifled a yawn, the lingering effects of a restless night still evident. *I still feel a bit of exhaustion but I think I can still run there.* He glanced toward the horizon, his mind occupied with the task at hand. *I wonder if Grone and his wife have left already I really wanted to ask him about something, but I guess this is a question I can ask anybody else how the hell do these people keep restoring their mana?* The question, a mix of curiosity and perhaps a touch of desperation, played in his thoughts.

Suddenly, a system panel, shimmering with an ethereal light, appeared before him. The panel displayed the following information:

Quest Reward: Plus 3 points to each stat.

Armor Recipe: 4 cinder rocks. 30 iron, 4 steel →Obsidian Armor

Weapon Recipe: 20 iron, 5 steel, red bear bone → Battle Axe

Accessory recipe: 2 copper, 3 pixel feathers → silent ring.

Alchemy Recipe: 1 venom bloom, 300ml water, 100ml healing potion, 50ml of user's blood → deadliest poison blend.

The panel, with its clean, sharp lines and glowing text, offered a glimpse into a world of potential and growth. The recipes, with their promise of power and skill, danced in Tyler's mind, but the mystery of mana still held his attention.