[Reward - [Sigil Scroll] - In a new section of your Grimoire lies a scroll detailing the specifics of every sigil you have ever studied or carved.]
[Reward - Active Skill: [Repair.] Using mana, any inanimate, non-magical object can be cleaned, maintained, or repaired, so long as the original pieces are within range.]
[Step 8: Basic Enchanter - To continue down the path of the Grandmaster Artificer, you must gain proficiency in enchanting by imbuing 100 crystals with enchantments.]
For whatever reason, I'd been rereading the perks in my grimoire ever since Zoop tapped on my shoulder to confirm I'd been promoted.
Her pride nearly exceeded mine. A part of me believed it did, based on her nearly forgetting to give me further instructions.
They came in the form of two lists. One was a shopping list of components that were already found in excess within my shadow. The other was a to-do list of places and things that needed repair around the district in order to get me acquainted with the new perk.
Indeed, it was the first and perhaps the only time I would be permitted outside the grounds. Not just for these lists, she made sure to remind us. We were meant to do a little recreational shopping and enjoy some downtime as well. We had the whole day. And she highly advised us to use the entirety of it.
"After you get some sleep that is." She wagged her finger at me as she turned away with a laugh. "Not that we need much. Children of the Fae, we are."
With that, I gathered Skoll and Hati and walked through the night, using the light of the moon to check up on the Legion's members from afar and otherwise fiddle with the apps until Ed woke from his slumber.
By dawn, I was back at the building and leaving once again with Ed, Els, Forgruna, and Matthew plus an entourage of house cats trailing behind us.
"Uh, is this gonna happen often?" Els groaned with discomfort.
"They'll leave once the sun fully rises." I offered.
"And then the dogs will come," Forgruna muttered, prompting a short growl of a retort from Skoll.
Deciding to live it up a little, I pointed towards a building nearby, offering if anyone wanted breakfast. With no protest, we took a boat over, crossing the floating river in a quick minute that caused the dwarves immense uneasiness until the fresh aromas I sensed earlier wafted into their noses.
The restaurant was placed on a corner lot and fashioned comically to look like a chef's hat. It was two restaurants, to be precise. A bakery and an artisanal grill house complete with an angry old man of a regular customer in front of the counter having a casual conversation with the baker while he threw disapproving gazes at the crowd.
"See ya, Wilson." The baker, an elvish man with skin as gold as his bread, waved as the man trailed off. Only for us to approach moments later, capturing his interest.
We ordered quickly and received our breakfast within moments. Steak and eggs for Matthew and the same for Els and Forgruna, plus a few heaping servings of dwarven ale each. Ed and I, on the other hand, opted for a light breakfast of grilled fish with the finest bread I'd ever tasted paired with the juice of unnamed summer fruits that gave us just as much warmth as the dwarven ale.
Our conversations were amiable and varied, if unspecific and, not to be crass, but pointless.
Of course, we discussed what creations we would soon design. However, seeming to wordlessly agree to smell the roses, there was no talk about the Legions or subordinates or- other than our projects- our classes.
Instead, we discussed the city.
It gave me great ideas for the future that I couldn't wait to begin testing and creating prototypes for. Much the same was true for Ed. Although he refused to elaborate on what abstract creations were brewing in his mind as much as I did.
Of course, the dwarves hated it. Everything about the place was unnatural, they said. Streets where people flew. Roads where boats trudged along in the skies. It was unnatural. And they insisted to believe as much no matter how much we reminded them that they claimed entire planets in Eotrom.
Matthew, however, was on the fence. It was a grandiose place, he assured us. But it seemed… cramped. Congested. Despite being several kilometers long. He couldn't quite place it. And so, he likened it to being spoiled by the scale of Epethia and then Eotrom. Notions I could only agree with.
Therein brought along a new subject, however. Eotromentian Materials. Specifically, the materials infused with the essence of the Divine Engineer.
Given the nature of the subject, however, it wasn't much of a conversation more than a quiet breakfast filled with groans and grimaces and excited gasps. At least on the outside. On the inside, the Credence Cortex allowed each of them to see illusory renderings of the various materials, plants, and most importantly, the animals. All matched with my descriptions being drowned out by a cacophony of voices wowing at the otherworldly materials and arguing on about nomenclature.
That said, we did come to agree on one thing. That the animals would be used sparingly by the highest-ranking legionaries and their domains, including our comrades in Maru. The reason being, they were responsible for bringing the vast majority of the materials into existence.
Ilium's tree of life was, in effect, biomechanical. An entire food chain of reptiles, mammals, birds, insects, and every other creature one could imagine. An ecosystem of anti-entropic creatures, aside from the decomposers who broke down structures and machines molecule by molecule to return the elements to nature with a biomechanical twist.
From those Recycling Drones grew elemental flora. Fields of grasses imbued with oils and water. Trees made of ores and minerals. Flowers that bore gaseous crops. All feasted upon by the primary consumers- the augmented herbivores and insects- to develop their systems with molecular manufacturing akin to a developing body diving its cells.
It was their need for safety that gave them their namesake, however. With their preference to take up residence in machines, yet feast on the cyber-materials, the Repair Drones developed a symbiotic relationship with machines in the same way small fish would spend their lives trailing whales and sharks. And though the materials they feasted on were valuable, they were of such small portions that with even a large swarm, the materials born were exceedingly rare.
Of course, they were preyed upon by the secondary consumers. The smallest predators, the non-predatory omnivores, and the scavengers. But only as a supplement. In all cases, the Processing Drones were the only creatures that actively consumed natural resources. Albeit the inorganic or inedible parts such as wood, dirt, and stone.
With their internal systems, they not only developed themselves but formed simple habitats using what we would consider waste materials. In turn shitting out ingots of augmented metal, sharting semi-sentient sand, or pissing exotic fluids that quite unsettlingly amassed in rivers and lakes over time.
Quite amusingly, some of the 'waste' generated by the Processing Drones and the tertiary consumers themselves was used to construct complex structures that doubled as their habitats. Such as the augmented eagle, shown to have built radar dishes around its territory to observe its territory from the safety of its nest. In turn, making a haven for the many creatures beyond its dietary range.
For those the Construction Drones did consume or to the unfortunate specimens who ventured into the territory of the aggressive types, their bodies were cannibalized to grow and install more capabilities within and around themselves; in turn excreting everything from concrete paddies to 'pellets' of magnetic nuts, bolts, or screws.
The apex predators were much the same, constructing vast lairs for themselves using materials we could never use. But their greatest merit came from the rarity of their waste. Being so efficient, they rarely shat or urinated. But when they did, what came out was often sentient. Or at the very least, exceptionally divine.
Just as we agreed to keep the animals within our domains, we agreed not to indiscriminately spread the materials of the realm across the Planes. Many of them were either too volatile, dangerous, or mind-breaking. Or, there simply wasn't enough to throw to waste. In either case, they would only be distributed to the Legion Imperators and their sworn allies.
A few, however, had the potential to bring great change to this realm and the many we would visit beyond. More so, they were found in gross abundance and thus were deemed fit for controlled distribution.
One material in particular, I fought tooth and nail to name Vehsipane, or the Variable Engine High Specific Impulse Propellant. It only made sense, after all. And the other names offered were genuinely barbaric. Nevertheless, the super fuel excited Ed to no end.
One of the most prominent species of fungus was another example. A phosphorescent species that could emit digital light rather than visible light and thus was dubbed the Digishroom. With a simple circuit, anything from a clock, to an image, or a video could be emitted like a screen or projected onto a surface. And their ability to grow in any indoor space made them quite versatile indeed.
Of all the other materials, only three fit the bill of wholesale distribution. The first of them being a type of Repair Vine. A reaching plant that preferred to grow inside of abandoned structures to feed off of entropy itself, it seemed. Thus repairing whatever hut or shack it claimed before it dissolved into pores to be carried away to the next structure.
The second was what seemed to be marble coated in hydrophobic dust. Upon inspection, however, the marble was revealed to have antibacterial properties, and more, the dust was revealed to be composed of cleaning nanites that would not just sterilize, but physically clean whatever room they were laid in.
Last and perhaps most fascinating was the Silver Screen; or augmented silver. Even a small piece could emit or project a wall-sized digital screen. Something I intended to use heartily.
As did the others, it seemed, as the mental conversations died down soon after the materials had been sorted through. Soon after, breakfast was finished, and the roses had been sniffed, so I distributed blessings to them before we went about the town or back to the guild to continue moving down our paths.
As Zoop instructed, that implied going to Priests Gate to approach broken fences, shattered windows, cracked pavement, and other such sites to withdraw mana from our wells. Some focus was required in order to resist the natural tendency for the energy to flow into our affinity cores and allow it to pour from our bodies instead. Over the wood, glass, and stone the energy went, infused with the abstract visions of our mind that willed the grains and glass and gravel to reform unnaturally before our eyes.
Or rather, that's what Ed had to do. Over and over, until it became second nature.
I, on the other hand, couldn't help but radiate divine magic every time I attempted to try. Not only fixing the object of my focus but cleaning and straightening everything within a few dozen meters as well.
Even then, we spent half the day cleaning up town just because. So after a detour through the Sunset Bank for more of that mind-shattering bread, Ed and I meandered to the guild hall in the West District, stopping in and out of stores or shop fronts while we broke out in business talk for the first time for the day.
Using a bit of lunar magic, I sent him a vision of a quaint town of only nine thousand souls not too far away. Specifically of a large church-like building overlooking the town of Winwell.
"My next object of interest," I answered Ed's inquisitive gaze. But it only intensified.
"An orphanage?" He asked skeptically.
"The father, or whatever he is, is struggling in more than one way. First, he has a child he can hardly care for plus a few delinquents."
"You want them in your party?" He squinted as if he had me all figured out.
I shrugged with my hands and laughed. Because of course, he had. "You know me so well." I chuckled. "But the other problem is one of finances."
"So, they need a sponsor?" Ed scratched his chin. And a dubious grin spread across his face a moment later. "I would imagine a nice school to teach the kids how to build will do them some good too."
By the time we returned, a solid plan was formulated and we got some shopping done to boot. I wound up using all my points from last year on as many crystals as I could purchase. Even if most of them were of low quality, they would undoubtedly serve me well as prototypes until I learned to make them for myself.
Aside from that, I purchased a slew of fabrics, textiles, seeds, tools, and ingredients or materials that ranged from feathers and hides to magical ores and tomes and of course, drugs.
I also managed to visit a few libraries and spend a few minutes scanning through as many interesting books as I could find. Books on local history, magical theories, strange beasts, points of interest, myths, and legends. And, not to mention, pantheons.
Once we stepped back into the wooden halls of magic, however, it was back to the grind. Our next task was to imbue 100 crystals with enchantments. Yet, I was aiming for ten times that number.
That said, the subguild provided us with orders for over a hundred basic enchantments and provided 120 crystals for our testing. Not that it mattered. The two of us dove into work like a starving predator would to a fresh carcass.
Suddenly, I felt nostalgic and remembered the times with Grandpa Lich when we'd spend hours priming enchantments with death and darkness. Only, it was Ed sitting across from me. And our conversations varied from the notable events of the past year to what was going on in Hill Base and even the prospects of the far future.
Eventually, the sun went to sleep and he followed soon after. Yet I continued throughout the night. Sleeping only after I carved the last sigil on my 1,120th enchantment and saw the arcane words of my grimoire floating beside me.