Solo Strategy

I returned to Deytran at dawn the next day. After passing through the gates and buying some ready-made food from a takeaway eatery, I headed home. Katashi opened the door, looking as if he hadn't slept all night. Though judging by the state of the workshop, that seemed to be true.

"What a stench..." I said, quickly stepping out into the courtyard.

"Came up with a new varnish," the Japanese shrugged.

"Weren't the local ones enough?" I asked, pinching my nose.

"If I had to come up with a new one, it means they weren't," grumbled the young blacksmith, seemingly unbothered by the smell of rotten eggs and decaying fish in the room.

"I hope it was worth it," I shook my head. "Can we open the doors? I'll air it out."

"Already finished," nodded the Japanese, stepping aside.

Calling upon Wind Sense, I drove the stale air from the workshop to the courtyard and then dispersed it over the roof. If there had been residential houses around instead of warehouses, the neighbors would certainly have told me everything they thought about it afterward. When I mentioned this aloud, the Japanese apologized:

"I admit, I was wrong. Got carried away."

"So, what kind of varnish is it?"

"Well, I remembered something familiar from Earth and combined it with local materials," shrugged the young blacksmith.

"Did you get an achievement for your experiments?" I asked, staying in character.

"I did. A diamond one."

"So, you really made something useful," I nodded with satisfaction.

After finishing the airing out, I glanced into the workshop, now filled with numerous tables, workbenches, and various foot-operated machines, and turned to Katashi:

"Listen, what do you think of this idea: how about we rent you a separate workshop? I'm sure the insula's headman can easily find a suitable building. There are empty warehouses here, much more spacious than this place."

"Interesting thought, but what's your gain?"

"Apart from the fact that now my house can suddenly start smelling worse than any dump?" I replied with a chuckle.

"This won't be cheap," the Japanese frowned, looking away.

"Consider it an investment in your startup," I said and aired out the workshop again, just in case. "You'll make my orders at a discount."

"Ten percent!" The future God of Labor immediately began bargaining.

"Twenty!"

In the end, we settled on fifteen, to our mutual satisfaction.

"By the way, here's another investment in your business from me," I said, handing the young blacksmith the scrolls I bought in Kronis.

"Hmm..." Katashi quickly glanced through them. "Looks like some interesting information."

"I really hope it's interesting, or I'll think I wasted my money," I laughed quietly, fully confident that the content of the scrolls would someday be useful to the future God of Labor and save him a lot of time.

Once Katashi tidied up the workshop, I approached him again with the same question:

"So, what about renting a warehouse and turning it into your personal workshop?"

"I don't mind," the Japanese seemed to have resigned to my persistence.

"Great, then I'll change and go to the insula's headman," I said, unable to hold back a satisfied smile.

As I told Kay, I changed, washed up, grabbed the keys and the protection amulet, left the Japanese to warm up breakfast, and set off to the headman's house. He wasn't there, but his servant told me where to find him—at the marshal. I went to the guard station—luckily it was close—and there I found both the headman and the sergeant, the head of security in our insula.

First, I arranged with the sergeant to have duplicates of the keys and amulet made for me. Then, I asked the headman about renting an empty warehouse for a few months on the condition that it would be converted into a workshop. I didn't expect such a lively reaction from him: he was clearly delighted with the proposal and started to fawn over me, promoting various buildings to the best of his ability. Naturally, I was interested in the one adjoining my house to the south, which turned out to be vacant. The headman immediately took the keys, which were kept at the marshal, and we went to check out the new place.

The warehouse was unremarkable: a single space with a high ceiling, about two hundred square meters in size. It was well-lit thanks to large windows near the ceiling, but had poor ventilation. When I pointed this out to the headman, he reasonably replied that good ventilation wasn't usually required for warehouses. Yet, he immediately suggested a solution: to invite a master-artifactor. While the headman went to fetch the master, I returned home and, taking Katashi with me, came back to the warehouse.

"What do you think? Plenty of room to spread out, right? And it's close to home—literally the next door," I joined in the headman's sales pitch.

"The gate's wide," the Japanese said with some doubt, though he clearly liked the width.

He walked around the space, stopping a couple of times to tap on the walls and look up at the ceiling.

"The ceiling is high, the walls are sturdy. Of course, no one will allow a forge here, but otherwise..." he trailed off, clearly calculating something in his mind, "it seems it should fit."

From the look in Katashi's eyes, I could tell he was already mentally arranging workbenches, figuring out where the machines would go, and where materials would be stored.

"There's a ventilation issue," I added a note of caution, "but the headman promised to help with that."

When I saw who the headman brought as the master-artifactor, I was floored. It was none other than Ger Karilian the Binder of Magic Threads, a mage of Valirium rank! How did a simple official have such connections? The answer came soon enough: the headman was married to the niece of the master-artifactor, famous throughout Deytran. As for Ger Karilian, he had clearly come to the warehouse intending to refuse such a simple job. But upon learning that Katashi had an Affinity with Metal, he quickly changed his mind.

"I've had an interesting design tucked away in my desk for a while," said the artifactor, thoughtfully stroking his lush gray beard. "Based on it, I can create a ventilation system, but it will be powered by a cube containing an equal mix of valirium and avalonium. Expensive, but your young master will be able to power this artifact once a day with his own energy, which will ensure a fresh inflow of air for an entire day."

"How expensive?" I grimaced.

"Just the materials alone will cost a thousand gold," the Binder of Magic Threads reluctantly replied.

"And the total, for the entire job?" I inquired.

"Fifteen hundred, and I'm not bargaining," the mage-artifactor responded firmly, crossing his arms. "Moreover, I'll only create the drive and the basic scheme; my apprentices will handle the rest."

"And how long will it take?" I asked again for clarification.

"A day to make the heart of the artifact and another day to install the entire system," the mage famous throughout Deytran replied solemnly.

"If you don't mind, may I consult with my companion?" I asked politely.

"If it doesn't take long," Ger Karilian nodded.

"Are you crazy?" Katashi hissed in my ear as we stepped aside. "Fifteen hundred gold for a simple ventilation system? I could set it all up myself in a week for barely ten gold!"

"Stop!" I halted the young blacksmith. "This is my investment, and think of it as payment not for ventilation but for establishing valuable connections."

"Connections that weigh three kilograms of pure gold?!"

"Some connections are worth much more," I shook my head, then added, "By the way, would you like to watch a master-artifactor of the highest rank at work?"

"I'd lo... Wait! No master in this world will agree to let some stranger watch their work! I've learned that much!" Katashi snapped.

"If we don't try, we won't know," I encouraged the young blacksmith. "And if he refuses us such a trifle, we won't order anything from him and save the money."

Since Katashi didn't believe for a moment that the master-artifactor would agree, he readily accepted this condition.

"Honorable Ger Karilian," I approached the artifactor and politely bowed again, just in case, "the price is indeed very high, but we will agree if you allow my companion to observe your work on the heart of the future ventilation system. Believe me, my companion has the makings of an exceptional master and recently created a flying wing on which I ascended to the height of hundreds of fathoms." As proof, I displayed the Achievement I had received during the flight.

"What?"

Not believing at first, the artifactor studied the visualization of the Sign for a long time, and then asked Katashi to show the achievement for creating the hang glider.

"Amazing. Incredible..." Ger Karilian murmured, stroking his magnificent beard. "I agree, but on the condition that the young master," this time he spoke the words with genuine respect, "tells me about his device. No need for details, just in general terms."

Looking at Katashi, I signaled him to agree.

"It will be a great honor for me not only to observe the work of a great master but also to tell you about my creations," the future God of Labor said very politely, bowing deeply in Eastern style.

"Good, then let's not waste time." It seemed to me that behind his beard, the artifactor was hiding a broad smile. "Let's begin right now: my other business can wait, unlike your story. I invite the young master to my workshop."

Catching Katashi's surprised look, I quickly took him by the elbow and whispered:

"Go. If you come and I'm not home, collect your duplicate keys and the copy of the protection amulet at the marshal; they should be ready by sunset."

The headman, who hadn't heard our conversation with the artifactor, was very surprised when his relative by marriage left with the Japanese. Most likely, the headman didn't expect Sir Karilian to agree and had invited him only to show off his connections and raise the price. Taking advantage of the headman's state, I managed to negotiate a very decent discount and eventually arranged to rent the warehouse for half a year. After that, we signed the deal first at the marshal and then at the local municipality.

Having received two sets of keys and a scroll permitting us to convert the warehouse into a workshop, I returned home. The upcoming expenses, of course, were a bit disheartening, but overall, I was quite satisfied. First, Katashi would be able to observe a truly top-notch master at work in person and, I was sure, would take a lot away from it. And second, such an acquaintance was worth that money in and of itself.

After snacking on the already-cold food, I headed to the port district so as not to waste time.

"Didn't you say you'd be gone till tomorrow?" the former captain of the Trade League greeted me grumpily at his doorstep.

In his right hand was a sealed one-and-a-half-liter amphora—judging by the stamp on the lid, it held young wine. Eddart looked like he'd spent the night arguing with himself: disheveled hair, a rumpled chiton, and slightly bloodshot eyes betrayed a fatigue mixed with irritation.

"I can come tomorrow, sure," I shrugged. "But why waste time?"

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"And there I was thinking whether to start drinking now or wait until evening…" the Air Mage muttered.

"And what did you decide?" I asked with a smile.

"Give me five minutes," Eddart waved me off and closed the door in my face without even inviting me in.

Surprisingly, the Air Mage reappeared even earlier than he'd promised. He gave me a sharp nod and headed toward the fishing port. In total silence, we made our way to the familiar pier, boarded the yacht-tender, and set out to sea.

"I'm fine," I said once we were out of earshot of other boats.

"Not interested!" snapped the former captain of the Trade League, but I caught a hint of relief in his eyes.

It was actually kind of nice—to know that someone worried about you, even if they tried not to reveal it.

"Today you show me what you've learned," said the Air Mage as soon as our boat hit open water.

"As you say, trainer," I replied in a neutral tone, doing my best not to smile.

For about an hour, I demonstrated everything I had mastered, sailing the yacht-tender back and forth along the coast until Eddart stopped me.

"Raven," he unexpectedly addressed me by name, "where have you been these past two days?"

"I just had some things to do," I answered as vaguely as possible.

"I'm not asking for no reason," the former captain of the Trade League frowned. "Your progress over these days... it's unusual. It's as if you've been training somewhere else, not for two or three days, but at least a couple of months! Did you find yourself a new teacher and not tell me?"

"Trainer, you've got it all wrong. I only learn from you. I just went to the Divino Mist and noticed that the air around it behaves very strangely. I meditated for many hours, and it felt like I caught something unusual, resulting in my grasp of Wind Sense actually improving."

"You meditated near the Divino Mist?" The Air mage's eyes widened like saucers.

"Yes."

"You... you're crazy!" Eddart finally found the right word.

"I've been told that," I nodded calmly and added, "But really, there is progress!"

"If someone else had said it, I would never have believed there are people so mad in this world," my temporary trainer shook his head.

"There's nothing scary about that Mist," I tried to reassure the Air mage.

"If only you knew how many great warriors, mages, priests, and masters have entered that Mist and never returned! Their number is far greater than those who died at the claws and fangs of monsters!" Eddart said passionately, a hoarse note slipping into his voice. "A cursed place, closed to humans since the Fall."

"Come on, master," I waved off his words, "I wasn't planning to conquer the Mist, just meditated nearby. And as you can see, it turned out to be quite safe."

"You seemed strange to me from the start, but I didn't think your oddity would go this far," the former captain of the Trade League shook his head.

"But my progress…"

"No progress," my temporary trainer sharply interrupted, "is worth a life!" For a moment, his gaze darkened as if he saw not me but someone else's silhouette disappearing into the milky wall of the Mist, never to return.

"Master, what's done is done," I said, raising my palms in a gesture of peace.

"Wise words," Eddart said, gradually calming down. "As for your training: Wind Sense is an art to which one could dedicate a lifetime, but I don't think it's your Path. You've already grasped this aura more than many of my students. I still can't believe it took you so little time. Although... meditating at the Divino Mist... No, I won't even try! I suggest we spend the time you've paid for on something else, like learning new spells."

"As you see fit, Master," I agreed, bowing my head.

Until late evening, the former captain taught me the basics of Wind Blade. This spell, too, was infinitely developable, much like Wind Sense. There were legends about masters who could slice off the top of a small mountain with it. As an example, Eddart mentioned Karnak the Wind Conqueror, about whom I'd heard stories in the Last Cycle. They said he cut a storm front like cloth, taming a tempest with a single sweep of his hand, and that his air blades could shatter fortress walls as if they were made not of stone but of dry reeds. I quickly grasped the basics, largely recalling how Aun practiced, but then hit a wall. The best I could manage was to leave an almost invisible scratch on the flesh of a fish caught by the Air mage. But damaging even a bit of the scales was beyond me. As a projection of the blade, I used the edge of my Thunder Dagger.

Unlike me, Eddart was very pleased. He outright said that few could achieve such a feat in their first lesson.

At sunset, I said goodbye to the former captain of the Trade League and headed home. As I approached the house, I realized that Katashi hadn't returned yet, so I had to go to the marshal and pick up the keys with the amulet. After that, I went inside and immediately fell asleep.

These two days had really worn me out.

The future God of Labor returned about an hour before dawn, waking me with a quiet knock.

"Come in," I said, opening the door and stepping aside to let the Japanese in. "How are you? Did you see the real master artifactor at work?"

"I did," he replied strangely, somewhat distantly.

"Something wrong?" I frowned.

"Huh? No. Everything's fine. Let's go, I'll make some tea."

When we settled on the chairs in the courtyard, I leaned forward.

"Tell me about it. Unless it's some kind of secret."

"You see... only today did I realize how little I know about this world," confessed the future God of Labor.

His voice sounded tired, but his eyes burned as if he had found a new peak to reach.

"Artifact creation, ritual magic, the use of runic words..."

"Does Ger Karilian know how to compose runic words?" I asked, intrigued.

"He does," the Japanese nodded, missing my interest. "Raven, you probably won't understand, but it's a whole new world. And I'm not talking about Ain..."

"Did you grasp anything while watching him work?"

"A bit," Katashi admitted, his tired smile revealing a thirst for knowledge.

A bit, but he still did?! Just from watching once... Now that was a true genius for you!

"Did you tell him much about the hang glider?" I inquired.

"I managed to get by with general terms and a comparison to kites. They know how to fly those in Ain, but mostly as toys for rich kids," the Japanese smiled, resembling a scout who had returned from a successful mission.

When the tea was brewed and the young blacksmith poured it into mugs, I noticed he wanted to say something but hesitated.

"Come on, out with it," I said, sipping the hot drink.

"You see, Ger Karilian made me a strange offer," Katashi said after a slight pause.

"Go on," I suggested with a heavy sigh.

"He offered to make us an artifact for free. He even agreed to cover the material costs. But on one condition..."

"What condition?" I asked, smiling in relief, already guessing the nature of the offer.

"He wants to participate in the creation of the hang glider," the Japanese quickly blurted out in one breath.

"Well... if he agrees to keep it a secret for the next six months and swear an oath at Kamo's altar, then we can agree," I said, pretending to think aloud.

In reality, I fully understood the motivation of the renowned mage. When you reach certain heights and seem to have mastered everything in your field, and nothing can surprise you anymore, it becomes downright boring. You're willing to work for free just to touch something new. But for a mage of Valirium rank, whose name was known throughout the trade capital, to offer his labor for someone else's project and be ready to abandon his usual terms? That was rare. It was one of those cases where the thirst for discovery broke the established order. Well, there was a bit of Larindel in all of us.

"I think he'll accept this condition," the young blacksmith nodded after a brief reflection.

"Then go ahead and say yes, I don't mind," I confirmed with a light heart. "When did you arrange to meet him again?"

"In five hours. I'll take part in the final tuning of the artifact cube and check how it holds the energy I transferred."

"Great. Now go to sleep," I suggested, getting up. "You don't want to be nodding off while observing the master's work, do you? You haven't slept for two days."

Katashi accepted that argument, and, finishing his tea, headed for the stairs.

"By the way, almost forgot, here's your set of keys and amulet," I said, tossing the bundle to the future God of Labor.

The Japanese went off to get some sleep, while I prepared a quick breakfast and, after a warm-up with my spear, set out for the fishing port at dawn.

Today, Eddart greeted me much more warmly than yesterday. He was still silent until we reached open water, but I could feel his far more good-natured mood.

For the first two hours of training, I reinforced my mastery of Wind Sense, then we switched to Wind Blade. No matter how hard I tried, it seemed I made no progress with this spell all day. Nevertheless, the former captain of the Trade League didn't look upset.

I started to wonder whether Wind Blade would be useful to me at all, given my spear style. Of course, the blade of Striking Whisper was quite suitable for applying this magic, and a spearman's use of the spell could throw an opponent off, but it was coming to me with far too much difficulty. Was it worth spending so much time and effort on it?

I shared my doubts with Eddart, and he assured me that having a variety of attack spells never hurt anyone. I didn't entirely agree, but my objections were more about rare exceptions. And, given that I would gain Affinity with the Air Element in the future, focusing on air magic seemed more promising than training Lightning spells.

Today, before saying goodbye until tomorrow, the former captain of the Trade League gave me something like homework: to practice Wind Blade while maintaining Wind Sense and noting even the slightest fluctuations in the air.

When I returned to the insula, I noticed some activity around the warehouse we had recently rented. It was the assistants of Ger Karilian and workers arriving to install the ventilation. I exchanged a few words with their leader and was satisfied with what I heard.

Approaching the door of the house, which for some reason was not locked, I didn't immediately understand the noise coming from the workshop. I listened in:

"Young man," the voice belonged to Ger Karilian, "the varnish you developed has quite curious properties. I would like to buy out this recipe."

Well, in principle, nothing unusual was going on. A Shard created something—and immediately everyone around desperately needed it, and they were ready to pay quite well for it.

"If you offer a good price, Master," Katashi replied calmly, and knowing him, I could catch the pleased undertones in his voice.

Giving a token cough for show, I stepped into the house and bowed politely to the master-artifactor.

"It is a great honor for me to see you, Ger Karilian, in my home."

"Save these niceties for the arrogant snobs," dismissed the mage of Valirium rank.

But his eyes gleamed with lively interest. He looked at me a bit more intently than simple politeness allowed, as if trying to discern what kind of person stood before him.

"So, you are not the young master's assistant, as I thought at our first meeting, but a sheriff of the Tunnellers' Guild. More precisely, the first Sheriff of the Book in centuries."

He paused briefly and added with noticeable respect:

"And also the one willing to risk his life to conquer the sky."

"As I told Kay earlier, with my skills, the risk is not so great. I admit the possibility of injury, even serious, in case of failure, but I am confident I will survive regardless," I replied as calmly as I could, without unnecessary arrogance.

"It's nice to see the youth can assess risks," said the mage-artifactor, then added, "though they still tend to overestimate their abilities."

Only then did I notice that Ger Karilian was holding a fabric stretching from a bag at his feet. Spider silk—an extremely rare material, thin and soft to the touch, but as strong as fine steel. In the lamp's light, the threads shimmered with a silvery glow, as if morning rays were tangled in them. I knew that from such silk, one could weave clothing as light as breath yet capable of withstanding weapon strikes. Apparently, it had already been made, and Katashi had brought it to the workshop.

"And you," I addressed him, "really decided to participate in creating a flying wing?" I asked with a slight breathlessness, hoping I wasn't overdoing it.

"In making a 'hang glider'," Ger Karilian chuckled into his beard. "Strange name, unusual, but you, as the creators of this marvel, can call it whatever you wish. As I understand, you based it on the same principle as kites but creatively reworked it. And don't worry, Sheriff, I've made all the necessary oaths at Kamo's altar," Katashi subtly nodded to me, confirming his words. "For six months, I won't tell anyone about your project."

"Immensely glad you joined us," I said with a slight bow and relief in my voice.

"Think nothing of it," the master-artifactor waved off, "and now I'd like to present my new proposal. I was just waiting for your arrival, Sheriff."

"We're listening carefully," I replied for both of us.

"The young master," the artifactor nodded at the future God of Labor, "told me you wanted to order a spatial artifact for storing and transporting the final product."

"That's correct," I confirmed. "Nothing complicated: one to three by volume and one to two by weight. That would be quite sufficient for me."

"What if I make something like that, but much better than many masters in the city can: one to five and one to three," my interlocutor added. "And I won't even charge you for it."

I couldn't help but wonder if it was possible that just being around the Shard for so long has brought me a bit of his luck.

"With all due respect," I bowed, "I would first like to understand the reason for such generosity."

"Reasonable, reasonable," Ger Karilian smiled into his bushy beard. "But there's no catch in my offer. I simply want to be present during your flight."

It seemed the famous artifactor no longer doubted that the future hang glider would indeed fly, but he was clearly not entirely confident in the success of conquering great heights.

"I see no obstacles to that," I replied as warmly as possible. "Only, the test flight will take place at the Mirkdeep Lake, which isn't exactly close to Deytran."

"For something like this, I would gladly set aside all my affairs and follow you. Besides, I know where the lake is."

It seemed to me that the famous artifactor was a bit nervous; at least, his fingers fidgeted with the silk a bit too diligently.

"In that case, considering your tempting offer, if Master Kay has no objections, I would be delighted to invite you to observe the test flight," I said, bowing with a straight back.

Catching my glance, Katashi stood up from the stool and said:

"It is a great honor for me if such a renowned master will oversee the testing of my work."

The politeness and respect of the Japanese clearly pleased the mage-artifactor.

"Then, I dare hope we have an agreement," the artifactor's fingers stopped twisting the spider silk and relaxed.

"Ger Karilian, if you allow, I would like to speak with my companion in private," I said politely and nodded to the young blacksmith towards the door to the inner courtyard.

"Of course, young men, of course," the artifactor agreed, stroking his beard.

When we stepped into the courtyard, I surrounded us with a Sound Barrier and, pressing my index finger to his chest, said with concern in my voice:

"I hope you understand that if Karilian does most of the work, the unique Achievement will go to him!"

Wincing as if he'd bitten into the sourest lemon, Katashi calmly replied:

"Don't worry. The master himself volunteered to observe more than do, and to assist me only if necessary. It seems he's more curious about the process than participating in it himself."

"Alright, if that's the case," I relaxed a bit. "Will you need my help?"

"No," the future God of Labor immediately waved off. "It's cramped enough in the workshop with just two of us."

"Got it," I nodded. "One more question. That artifact, the Ventilation Heart... Isn't it essentially a universal mana-powered drive? Couldn't it be adapted as, say, the heart for a mechanical hammer or an engine for some kind of motor?"

"Pf-f-f-f. You think I didn't consider that right away?" The Japanese looked at me as if I had suggested using a nuclear power plant to make his toy cars go a bit faster. "First, it's very expensive. Second, the user must have an Affinity with Metal. And third, I analyzed the power: the limit is three-quarters of a horsepower. That's barely enough to turn a ventilation shaft or maintain a steady rhythm in a light mechanism. As the volume of the metal cube increases, the efficiency drops drastically: doubling the mass gives only a two to three percent gain in efficiency, while costs increase tenfold. It's a foolish trade-off: huge outlay for a pittance of return. Such a drive in a forge or motor would just burn out under the load."

"That's a pity…" I admitted honestly.

"Though the thing itself definitely has potential," the young blacksmith added.

"How long will it take you to make the hang glider?" I asked, glancing at the workshop door.

"With a helper like Ger Karilian? We'll have it done by tomorrow evening," the future God of Labor declared confidently. "Or maybe even a bit sooner."

"That fast?"

"We spent two days assembling the prototype, and you, pardon me, are far from as good a helper as a master-artifactor," the Japanese squinted, his voice carrying a clear smirk. "Besides, the plan is already worked out, I've drawn the valirium wire..."

"And it can be tested right away?" I clarified.

"Yes, I've accounted for the drying of the glue and varnish," Katashi nodded calmly.

"Then I'll cancel training for the day after tomorrow?"

"Cancel it," the Japanese's voice was full of confidence in success.