For the next two weeks, Kael found himself deeply immersed in the war camp's smithy, surrounded by the rhythmic clang of hammers and the hiss of steam as molten metal cooled. The air was thick with the scent of iron, ash, and sweat—a far cry from his father's tinker shop back in Thalrune, but strangely comforting in its own way. He had set up his small workstation in a corner of the tent, away from the other smiths, where he could focus on his true craft: inscriptions.
Unlike the others, who were simply sharpening swords and patching armor, Kael worked his magic at a deeper level. Every piece of equipment that passed through his hands wasn't just reforged—it was reborn. In this world, everything was intertwined with the energies that permeated it, and as an inscriptionist, Kael's job was to channel and reshape that energy, drawing out the weapon or armor's latent potential.
He carefully timed his inscriptions to the moment when the metals reached their final form. As the steel cooled and hardened, he infused it with the surrounding energies, marking it with ancient runes and symbols. These inscriptions weren't just cosmetic; they were designed to enhance the very essence of the material, making it stronger, sharper, and deadlier.
But Kael's true talent came from his background. Growing up in his father's tinker's smith, he had worked on a wide variety of projects that gave him an unusually broad skill set. He had once designed heating and cooling systems for houses, manipulated water flow to create wells in arid villages, and engineered mechanisms that seemed almost magical to the common folk. This gave him a unique perspective on the seemingly simple demands of warfare.
To the soldiers, warfare was straightforward. They needed swords that could cut through armor and shields that could withstand arrows and blades. But Kael saw opportunity—an arena to push the boundaries of what was possible.
At first, he worked diligently to provide standard enhancements: sharpening blades, strengthening armor, and increasing durability. The soldiers seemed satisfied enough with his work, but Kael quickly grew bored. The monotonous rhythm of war left him yearning for something more, a challenge beyond simply reinforcing steel. He wanted to innovate, to experiment.
So he did.
Kael began to tweak the standard enhancements in subtle ways. He inscribed runes that reduced wind resistance, allowing soldiers to swing their swords faster than before. He injected mana into armor plates, making them unnaturally heavy for enemies to strike but light as air for the wearer. He modified the edges of blades to emit a faint heat, causing them to slice through armor and flesh with scorching precision. Each new project sparked Kael's curiosity, pushing the limits of what his inscriptions could do.
At first, no one noticed. The changes were subtle, after all. But as soldiers returned from the battlefield, they began to talk. They were still haggard and battle-worn, but there was a different kind of exhaustion in their eyes—one softened by a glint of satisfaction. A faint spark of wonder. Their armor felt lighter, their swords seemed to bite deeper, and their shields held up against onslaughts that would have shattered ordinary steel.
Whispers spread through the camp about the young inscriptionist who was doing more than just patching gear. Soldiers sought him out, lining up in front of his makeshift workshop, eager to see what enhancements he could craft for them. Some even offered favors—extra rations, better lodging—just to get their weapons in his hands.
One evening, as Kael was finishing inscribing a complex rune onto a blackened blade, a grizzled soldier approached him. The man's face was etched with lines of battle fatigue, his eyes hard and skeptical, but there was an undeniable gleam of curiosity as he inspected the glowing symbols on the sword.
"I heard you've been making some... interesting modifications," the soldier said, his voice rough but intrigued. "Care to explain how my sword just burned through bark and hide stronger than steel today?"
Kael grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Simple," he said. "I embedded a heat rune along the edge. With each swing, the blade draws a bit of heat from the ambient mana around it. Cuts deeper, faster."
The soldier let out a low whistle. "Impressive. You keep this up, and you'll be more popular than the commander himself."
Kael chuckled, though inwardly, he felt a swell of pride. It was exhilarating to watch his ideas come to life, to see how his tinkering could turn the tide in a war that had seemed so impersonal and distant when he first joined. This war camp, this world of blood and battle, had become his proving ground.
Yet, even as the soldiers praised his work, Kael couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning. The forest outside the camp loomed ever closer, whispering of ancient powers and untapped potential. His mind raced with new possibilities, new inscriptions, new ways to bend the world's energy to his will.
He was no longer just the tinker's son. In this war camp, amidst the clang of hammers and the roar of battle, Kael was becoming something more. Something powerful. And as the war raged on, so did his ambition.