Learning to be a Menace [Monster Evolution/Academy/LitRPG]

Uchronia and the MOD were moving on to the next phase of the competition, the Enchant-off. In his expert and totally not biased opinion, Uchronia had won the Forge-off. Just because the rings were slightly off, or the metal was brittle or soft, or some other nonsense that the MOD had been yapping about didn't mean he had won by default.

Why, Alwin bet, if he went up to inspect that piece of chainmail, he could list out a dozen or so things wrong with it.

He was still going to help her, of course, so he had to unfortunately switch his attention back towards the MOD. Angling himself such that he could see the MOD through the little peephole in the fence, he observed as another pair of Hands materialized.

They shared a similar appearance to the Stone Hands, though they now had blue lines pulsing through their cracks and crevices. Sticking out an index finger on each hand, they started to trace around the chainmail with extreme delicate care, completely the opposite of the way they had manhandled the chunk of metal earlier.

Blue pulsing lines, similar to theon on their bodies, appeared wherever they traced, drawing an intricate pattern that to Alwin looked like just a bunch of scribbles. As they drew across the surface of the chainmail, the lines of power on their bodies slowly faded, like they were being transferred to the armor.

When the last of the blue light on the Stone Hands disappeared, they retracted their finger, pulling back as the MOD waddled around the chainmail, inspecting his handiwork.

The image drawn on it looked like a kid's interpretation of a flower. A circle with semicircles around it that represented the petals. However, in each petal were little drawings of symbols that he recognized. On one of them was a snowpetal. Another had a lightning bolt, and one even had flames.

Were those the rune things that Urchonia was talking about?

Weird.

How come he had never seen any of those before?

Urchonia did mention in her explanation that those truly skilled could Enchant the objects by bringing out the latent thingies out of them rather than externally enhancing them via runes. Maybe they didn't show up if they were Enchanted like that. And something told him that the Training Dummies were specially Enchanted this way. A special dummy for a bunch of special students.

Satisfied with his work, the Wooden Fence dismissed the Stone Hands before turning his attention to Uchronia. All eyes were now on the Potted Sprout as they watched her draw her own set of runes.

Just like the Stone Hands, her leaves had that same pulsing blue light as she used the tips to draw on the chainmail. Unlike the smooth and perfect lines of the MOD, hers were bumpy and wavy. It made sense now that he put in half a second of thought into it. Drawing on chainmail wasn't exactly the smoothest experience.

With every line she drew, the pulsing lines of blue light on her leaves dimmed until they vanished completely. Despite literally just tracing her leaves across the chainmail, Uchronia was exhausted. More sweat than when she operated the forge poured down that plant bulb head of hers. And unlike the MOD, she had only managed to draw a single symbol—a snowflake.

The MOD spoke up, "Bumpy lines and an unstable rune that barely gives a five percent increase in Ice Resistance. Compared to the one I made, which gives a twenty percent boost in Resistance to every major Element across the board. It's quite clear who won this little Enchant-off as well."

Uchronia sighed. She knew that winning was a long shot, but to be defeated this badly in front of the whole class must've been hard breaking.

Don't worry, Uchornia. He was here to help. This time, for sure. Also, he totally did not forget to distract the MOD because he was too mesmerized by the glowy, pulsing light that the Stone Hands gave out.

"I object!" Alwin declared from within his wooden prison.

The MOD turned around, glaring at Alwin through the peephole. Sensing his wrath, Alwin rolled away from the hole. It was a simple case of if he couldn't see him, then he couldn't be scolded.

Unfortunately, the Wooden Fence was much too smart. The rows of fences surrounding the slime dropped back into the ground, giving him a clear line of sight.

"And on what grounds do you object, child?"

"It's okay, Alwin," Uchronia said. "You don't have to do whatever it is you're doing."

"And ruin my chance to save the day? Never!" Turning to face the Wooden Fence, he continued. "I object on the very ground that I stand on."

The Wooden Fence turned to face Milvus, asking, "Is this the clown?"

He nodded.

"We can ignore him then."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Alwin?"

"If you ignore me, it means that you believe that whatever Uchronia forged and enchanted is superior to yours."

"What would you even know about quality work?" the Wooden Fence spat.

"I know enough to put the money where my mouth is?"

"You want to test out gear? Fine then. I'll show you what true quality forging and enchanting is."

"Wrong!" Alwin shouted. "I was talking about bribery. But fine. Let's see how your enchanted chainmail can hold up compared to Uchronia's."

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This time, the MOD didn't even look to Milvus for approval. Using his Stone Hands, he grabbed Uchronia's chainmail meant to go over her bio-ceramic pot and placed it on his anvil, right next to his own version of the same chainmail.

The difference was like night and day, or more like the sun and the moon. Yes, they were both round, but one of them was shining more brilliantly than the other.

There had to be some way to cover up the runes on a set of gear, right? If not, people would be walking around with a bunch of literal glowing targets on them.

"Hit it with your best shot, boy. And to the rest of the class. This is the difference between a professionally forged and enchanted piece of gear, compared to one made by a novice."

Alwin knew exactly what to do.

"Niwla! Your turn."

The MODOC had successfully predicted such an exchange, even when operating at a reduced capacity.

Alwin rolled off the control seat toward Winal. The ant gave him a couple of good job head pats, as well as a rare soft smile of his mandibles.

A couple of flashes of light later, and Niwla had resumed his MODOC form.

Ah, did it feel good to once again have access to higher computational resources, though not like it was necessary. Between the MOD and Uchronia, it was easy to determine the correct outcome in the situation that Alwin had put themselves in.

He would've done the same, though, without all of the unnecessary childish taunting.

Niwla raised a wing and spoke. "Thank you for humoring my request to test the chainmail that you have painstakingly forged and enchanted."

"Acting all cordial now? It's too late to beg for forgiveness for dishonoring me."

Normally, people would be surprised by the fact that he changed forms. Either the MOD had been briefed on his abilities or, like Bion, he was too blinded by pride.

"That will not be an issue," Niwla said. "To best showcase the difference in skill, I request to test out Uchronia's armor first, if that is acceptable with you, Minister."

"Do it. Hers will crumble. Mine won't."

It was the latter.

"For fairness. The same skills will be used on both sets."

"Yes," the Wooden Fence grumbled, his fence gate flapping. "Just do it already."

"Very well," Niwla said.

"Withdrawal. Mix. Homing Ice Needles."

A bundle of tiny needles condensed right in front of him, flying off towards the chainmail on the left—Uchronia's creation.

They struck the cylinder of metallic rings, shattering into a hundred pieces that fell onto the floor.

The Wooden Fence clicked his fence gate. "What's the point of the test if both chainmails remain unharmed. If this is your attempt at trying to say that her shoddy workmanship is equal to mine, then you're not as smart as you think you are. Even with that big brain of yours."

"While I appreciate your comments, Minister. I would prefer it if you leave your judgment until the end of the test."

"For what? If you can't even leave so much of a scratch on that excuse of a chainmail, then what makes you think you can do anything to mine? We're talking about a perfectly forged piece of chainmail, enchanted with twenty percent Ice Resistance, on top of all the other Resistances layered into it."

"With all due respect, Minister. As I have previously mentioned, I would prefer it if you leave your judgment until the end of the test."

"Whatever. Just get it over with so that I can show you the true difference instead of this farce."

Niwla nodded.

Opening his beak, he said, "Withdrawal. Mix. Homing Ice Needles."

A bundle of tiny needles condensed right in front of him, flying off towards the chainmail on the left—the MOD's creation.

They struck the cylinder of metallic rings, shattering into a hundred pieces that fell onto the floor. Not crystals, but the rings themselves.

"What!" the MOD yelled, waddling over to his creation.

The rest of the class was stunned, except for Gus, who wasn't paying attention other than his muffin, and Milvus, who had already seen this coming.

Uchronia had her mouth hanging confused, along with the rest of the class.

It was simple, really.

Using the Homing Ice Needles, he targeted the strongest parts of her armor. And just before they struck, he dismissed most of them. A difficult task for someone like Alwin, but childsplay for him.

As for the MOD's chainmail, well, it was like the Stone Training Dummy all over again. His Ice Elemental Spells were naturally able to render the Ice Resistance Enchantment useless, thanks to how pure he was. All he had to do was overcome the inherent physical toughness of forged iron. Though much tougher than stone, it was easily remedied by repeatedly striking the same spot multiple times until the smallest of chips was formed. Once he accomplished that, it was a simple case of injecting Withdrawal gas to freeze the joints such that they could be easily shattered. All of that happened within a short, fleeting instant.

The hardest part was coordinating with his other selves, more specifically, Alwin. Due to the nature of their beings, only Alwin had the ability to set the target of the Homing Ice Needles. Thus, he had to be given meticulous instructions on which specific ring of the chainmail to target.

"I trust that I have made my point clear," Niwla said.

"But—How?"

"You are the Minister of Defence. I am just a mere student testing out both yours and my friends' creations. As I mentioned earlier, I used the exact same skills. The difference would be in the quality of gear forged and enchanted."

The Wooden Fence snapped to Milvus, angrily whispering, "You knew this would happen?"

"You know the extent of my current abilities."

The MOD grumbled, "Demonstration's over. And I'm taking everything here to get to the bottom of this."

Multiple hands appeared. Some were made out of stone, others made of different materials: iron, steel, obsidian, and others that Niwla was unable to name. It was a clear case of a lack of knowledge, something that would have to be remedied. He could only extrapolate based on what he knew, and if he didn't know enough, his calculations would be wrong. Perhaps that was why his judgment of Alwin's and Lapis's actions was incorrect.

The Hands picked up the forge, anvil, and the multiple scraps of shattered chainmail, and even the pieces of Homing Ice Needles that were slowly melting away into Mana particles.

Just before the MOD waddled out of the door, Niwla spoke up.

"I believe that you have your end of the deal to uphold."

The MOD grumbled, glaring at Niwla, then Uchronia, who was still stunned speechless.

He flapped his fence gate, using it to point at the Potted Sprout. "You! Come to my office later."

The door slammed shut.

Less than a second later, it swung open. A floating pink bubble squeezed through the narrow opening.

"I hope I'm not too late," the bubble giggled.

"You're not," Milvus said. "You're just in time."

"Lovely."

"Class. This is the MOP, Minister of Pills, here to give a demonstration of Pill Refining. Remember to pay attention and don't be afraid to ask any questions."