PftA (Revised) - Chapters 40&41

Chapter 40 – Tools of the Past and Future

“Hey, Emie! I have another package for you!” Mom called out as she entered the craft room. “Oh, what are you working on?”

“I’m just making a charm necklace. It looks a little weird—” I held up the multi-strand necklace incorporating several small talismans “—but I kinda like it.”

That was a lie. At best, it was ‘meh.’ But it was functional.

At least, I thought it would be.

Had I made all the small talismans enhancement types – enchantments that temporarily bolstered an attribute or granted a physical effect like Eagle Eye or Mana Sight – activating them all simultaneously would have caused conflicts due to how close they were to each other. I’d never been given a clear explanation for why that was the case, but it was why people didn’t wear an enhancement ring on every finger.

To combat the issue, I dispersed a variety of charms with non-enhancement effects between the enhancements. Specifically, I focused on incorporating a reactive Time [Shield] and [Restore]. Though I couldn’t get away with giving them out now, as soon as the interfaces activated, I intended to ensure everyone I cared about wore one of my protection necklaces – even if they were bulky and awkward.

“It’s certainly different,” my mom said neutrally, setting the trio of Amazon boxes on a nearby shelf. I grinned widely at her evasion before making a ‘gimme’ motion with my hands. Mom sighed and handed me the boxes.

“Why are you buying all these tools anyway? We have half of these already.”

“Hey, don’t judge me. You go through your phases all the time. Is it so strange that I’m following in your footsteps?” I replied jokingly while using a nearby carving knife to cut through the packing tape. “Besides, I need my own tools. It’s not like I can take yours when I move out next year.”

The reminder made her frown slightly, but the expression passed quickly. “Maybe we should go through the tools we have already before you buy any more. I don’t mind you taking some of them. I mean, seriously. Nobody does woodworking in the house. I don’t know why your dad insisted we keep your grandpa’s old tools. If you want them, neither of us will care. I’d rather they get used instead of sitting in a box rusting and rotting away.”

I nodded and set the separately packaged tools aside.

“Can we do that now? I’d like to organize everything.” I stood up from the table I was using as a workstation and collected the now-empty boxes.

Not all of the tools had made it into the crafting room. Only the ones Mom used frequently during her crafting phase had made it into the space. The rest of the collected tools were either on shelves in the garage or in boxes in the attic. I’d dug some of the woodworking tools out of the boxes they’d been stored in during our last move, but several items remained packed.

That didn’t even consider the leatherworking tools, which I was pretty sure were sitting mostly forgotten somewhere. I’d never seen any of it used, though I remembered seeing it neatly organized in Grandpa’s workroom when I was little. Kids weren’t usually allowed in the room, but I’d gone in there for something. The most prominent aspect of the memory was the scent of worked leather and sawdust.

I still liked the way that combination smelled.

Eventually, Mom broke away from our search to start on dinner, telling me to put anything I wanted on the table so she could ensure Dad didn’t mind me taking any of it. Though I hadn’t planned to work with leather much, I could feel my creative juices flowing after seeing the tools again.

Beast skin was one of the more effective enchantment bases, after all. It wouldn’t be hard to adapt some of the templates I’d made with the 3D printer into stamps…

“Whatcha’ got there, Emie?” Dad asked as he walked into the garage from where he’d parked in the driveway.

Though there were two parking spots in the garage, Dad’s truck was too large to comfortably fit inside, so he’d claimed a spot outside instead, allowing the space he would have used to go toward storage and whatever projects he was working on.

“Mom told me to go through Grandpa’s old tools and see if I wanted anything instead of buying new stuff,” I replied.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed all the crafting tools you’ve been buying,” he said. We all shared one Amazon account, so it was no surprise he was aware of my purchases.

“Do you want to keep them?” I offered, holding up a set of edging tools. “If you might use them, I can get my own set. I don’t mind. It’s not like I have to cover living expenses right now.”

He shook his head and looked into the box I was going through. “No, I doubt I’ll ever get into leatherworking. If I change my mind, I can always buy my own equipment. You can have whatever you want. Just be careful and take care of them. Those tools were really important to my dad.”

I set the tools down and wrapped my arms around my dad. I knew Grandpa’s death was still a sensitive topic for him. Maybe I’d get him a bunch of crafting tools over the next few years. It probably wouldn’t be a bad thing to stock up on items that would be in high demand in a few years.

= = =

“So? Have you decided on your submission yet?” an energetic Jun asked as she appeared next to me on the way to campus two hours before classes started. “Not that I’m trying to find out to make sure I beat you or anything. I’m genuinely interested…as a friend…not a competitor.”

I eyed my friend as a slow smirk appeared. She was so bad at subterfuge.

“I don’t care either way. If my idea lets you come up with something better, that’s fine with me,” I replied honestly. “I’ve been working on a multi-purpose weapon, so I don’t have to swap in the middle of a fight if I suddenly need something else. It’s kinda like Black Widow’s staff/baton combo, but I’ve added blades and the ability to shift into a quasi-spear. It’s really more of a short halberd, actually…”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! I thought your prep work looked like a staff, but you cut it in half, so I was confused,” she said. Since we only got four hours to create our submission during the actual tournament, most crafters needed to spend a lot of time prepping materials in advance – all of which had to be done on campus while supervised.

“What about for the Artificing competition?” she asked.

We stepped through the scanner and into the campus proper. While it wasn’t necessary just yet since the only people in the Junction were other beta testers and Atlas employees, the scanner would eventually ensure that only registered students entered the campus. Anyone else trying to enter would be blocked.

“I thought about making a food device—" I grinned at my friend, who suddenly looked affronted “—but ultimately, there was no way to program everything in the time allotted, not even if I dedicated all the prep time to having everything ready to enchant and assemble.”

When I saw Jun’s proud smirk, I added, “At least, not the design I have in mind.”

“So what are you making?”

“A rune inscriber,” I answered as I approached my workstation. “What about you?”

Jun’s questions were suddenly forgotten as she excitedly told me about her projects. It was good that I hadn’t gone with the food machine idea because she’d chosen that as her submission for the Artificing competition. No wonder she’d looked upset when I mentioned it before.

For Enchanting, Jun planned to make a warding array that only allowed preauthorized people to enter. Protecting spaces and keeping potentially dangerous people out of an area seemed very useful. Something like that would be helpful in any number of situations.

After chatting for a few minutes about her projects, Jun bid me goodbye and headed to her workstation several tables away. I hadn’t broken the seal on my workstation while she was talking – not because I didn’t trust her, but because the time counter would start once I did. Though it wasn’t supposed to matter toward our standings, the judges still tracked how long we spent preparing.

I sent a pulse of mana into the unlocking rune. I watched as the silvery barrier solidified before winking away, letting me know the workstation was open for use. I didn’t waste any time.

I’d designed my Enchanting submission after my real-world weapon but upgraded and improved it in design and materials. The wood was obviously better quality than I’d used in the physical world, and the measurements were much more precise. I was also confident the enchantments were better since I’d had weeks to tweak the design after testing the weapon IRL and trying a few variations in-game.

My Artificing design was a lot less certain. I’d cobbled together a rough version before deciding to use it for the tournament. Still, I was nowhere near confident that everything would work the way that I wanted. There were a lot of moving pieces involved, after all.

We’d covered how to work with moving parts in Runic Engineering, so I wasn’t too worried about the project working mechanically. Mostly, I was concerned about the testing portion since my plans for the control crystal relied heavily on the user’s knowledge of runes and their intent. I didn’t let it bother me too much since all the judges should be capable professionals in the relevant fields. Still, it was a worry.

Moreover, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to finish the enchantments, much less the assembly, in the time allotted for the competition. That was the biggest risk.

Not that it ultimately mattered all that much.

While winning would be nice, as would the reward, there was no real pressure to place in the top three. Losing wouldn’t negatively impact me or my family at all. The challenge was nice, though.

= = =

Standing at my workstation two days later made me realize at least some of my laissez-faire attitude had been self-delusion. For someone who’d experienced more than three decades of life already, regardless of my physical age, I hadn’t expected to feel so nervous. Few people were watching from the stands since most of the other students were busy doing their own things, but I felt the pressure nonetheless.

There were recording devices at each table, allowing anyone with access to the school’s tournament feed to focus on my workstation and observe me anytime. That was in addition to the handful of judges who were stationed throughout our section of the stadium.

I was glad that my first competition hadn’t been until the second day of the tournament, and I’d been able to observe the three crafting competitions held the day before. Some overlap occurred since there wasn’t enough time for each craft to get a separate time slot. A few people complained about the limitation, but ultimately, they had to deal with it.

It might not have been fair, but nothing in life was. The tournament was being held over the weekend – which equated to four days in-game – to keep from interfering with normal school hours. There was only so much the school could do to accommodate everyone.

I nervously shifted as I waited for the countdown for the Enchanting competition to start. As soon as the count reached zero and the light turned green, I tried to block out as much of my surroundings as possible and focused on sketching out the enchantments I’d be adding to the pieces of wood I’d prepared.

I reviewed the drawings multiple times, occasionally making minor corrections and adjustments, before deciding to proceed. Thankfully, I didn’t have to hand-carve every rune and connection. That would have taken forever, especially given the precision required. Instead, I used an engraving tool, the concept on which I’d based my Artificing submission.

Holding my intent for the rune firmly in mind, I activated the tool and let it cut through the lines I’d drawn. At each connection, I shifted my mental focus to the upcoming rune, ensuring the magic would be infused with my intent, even before adding mana or reagents.

The work went quickly enough, and I hurriedly moved on to coating the markings with the reagents I’d prepared in advance. Focus during this portion was also critical, perhaps even more so than during the engraving phase. I was adding the magical reagent that would literally guide the intent of the runes engraved in the wood.

Because I was working with mana types beyond my affinities, I set the reagents with neutral mana before adding mana cores to power the enchantments.

I’d changed the coupling design a little, but I still couldn’t make the staff version shift into a spear in the way I wanted. It would do it, though the result gave a higher blade-to-pole ratio than most spears I’d seen. I didn’t mind, though, since it suited my purpose fine. Still, I had to trigger the effect from the blade side, which made it less functional.

I’d need to keep experimenting with the design.

I looked up, noting forty-three minutes remained before my time was up. Feeling good about my progression, I critically examined my creation for any apparent flaws before sealing the whole thing in an oily wax mixture. It didn’t cause the weapon to become slick since the coating was quickly absorbed into the wood, leaving nothing but a gleam behind.

After giving it a second coat to ensure the reagents were fully covered and set, I covered my creation in Time mana to speed up the curing process. I was pretty sure there was a spell to do something similar, but it wasn’t one I had in the game or real life. By the time the counter reached zero, the weapon was fully cured and ready to be wielded in combat.

Chapter 41 – Early Results

Though I could have left the competition floor after finishing, there was so little time remaining that it seemed like a waste of effort. There were other competitions in other areas of the arena; however, each section was blocked off by some kind of magic partition, so I couldn’t see how far along the other categories’ competitors were.

Less than thirty participants were competing in the Enchanting category, which was likely a large portion of the Runic Structures student body. Around half of the competitors were in my class, and I assumed most of the others attended the alternate classes held midday. It was also possible some of the competitors hadn’t opted to take the class.

Jun’s workstation was a few tables away, and I watched as she tensely examined the pieces of her submission for the fifth or sixth time. She kept staring at one piece in particular with an expression of exasperation, but she hadn’t made any changes, so I hoped that meant everything was fine.

After several long minutes, a chime sounded, much to the dismay of several students frantically rushing to finish on time. Barriers sprang up around the workstations, ensuring no additional modifications were made as the two familiar judges made their way around the competition floor. Mr. Asper was the first to reach my workstation.

“Please describe your submission.”

“It is a multi-functional weapon that uses two forms of mana to power the enchantments,” I began before describing the specific enchantments I’d chosen. Unlike the weapon I’d created in the physical world, I hadn’t used two common, basic elements for my submission. This time, I’d gone with the more offensive elements of Lighting and Ice.

They were common enough that acquiring the materials wouldn’t be too difficult once more rifts started appearing. I was essentially using the simulation as a practice area to work on my real-world designs, which was basically what the simulation had been designed for if I understood correctly.

I disconnected the two pieces and demonstrated the various effects I’d enchanted. I did not mention the limitation I’d been unable to overcome with manifesting a true spear-form. I’d discuss it with both teachers later to see if they had any guidance to help me bypass the issue. It didn’t seem prudent to mention a problem with my design while it was being judged.

My Runic Structures teacher looked pleased enough as he walked away. Ms. Maker had a similar reaction. However, she immediately identified the weapon’s limitation in its staff form and pointed out a simple method I could have used to overcome the connection issue. Once identified, I chastised myself for not figuring the solution out on my own.

It was so simple.

As Ms. Maker walked away, I glanced at my friend and gave her a thumbs-up. Jun responded with more of a grimace than a smile. She looked so nervous. I knew she felt pressured to perform well and hoped her efforts were rewarded. The competition was clearly much more important to Jun than it was to me.

We’d briefly discussed her background before, so I knew the pressure to get accepted into a good university or directly hired as a non-beta Atlas employee drove many of her decisions. I wished I could tell her that none of it would matter in a few years. Well, working for Atlas might matter, but getting into a good university certainly wouldn’t once the reintegration really started.

We watched as the judges huddled together, comparing the tablets they’d used to score each participant. After a few minutes of silent discussion, they approached the small podium in the center of the competition floor.

After the requisite congratulatory comments and positive words for those who wouldn’t place, Ms. Maker began announcing the top five winners for the category, directing each winner to come to the small stage area when their name was called.

In fifth place was an unfamiliar girl who made a temperature control amulet that would keep the temperature surrounding the wearer stable, regardless of the environment. It was a good, useful enchantment. I’d made variants of it before, so I knew it wasn’t a simple creation.

A kid named Javier from my class won fourth place for his enchanted bow that temporarily placed a homing feature on every arrow shot. He looked embarrassed to be standing in front of everyone. I didn’t blame him. I didn’t like being stared at either.

Jun looked upset when they called her name as the third-place winner. I knew she’d hoped for higher, and I hoped her lower-than-expected performance wouldn’t distract her from the Artificing competition the following day. Her ward was good. She’d even managed to get it to recognize mana signatures to avoid needing physical ward keys to enter.

I was happy with second place, though very curious about who beat me. I didn’t have to wait long to learn that another unfamiliar student had taken the top spot. When Ms. Maker called out his name, a flamboyantly dressed student whooped before rushing forward. His colorful clothing contrasted nicely with his dark skin, making it hard not to look at the cheering student now standing beside me on the stage.

He'd made a dual-function pendant that created a stealth field around the wearer, rendering them functionally invisible and silent. The pendant also included a reactive shield that blocked any incoming damage below a set threshold. I was amazed that the brightly dressed male had managed such a combination. The fact that he dressed like he needed attention made his decision to create something stealthy that much more interesting.

“Congratulations on second place!” Jun said a bit sullenly after everyone was released for lunch and the students around us started disbursing.

“Thanks, and good job with yours too. Third place isn’t bad, and I bet your Artificing submission will blow them out of the water tomorrow! A magical food maker? That’s gotta be first place,” I told the unhappy girl.

She pursed her lips. “Maybe. I thought a keyed ward would have impressed them, though. Getting the keys to register mana signatures instead of physical objects was annoying!” she griped as she pushed her way into the cafeteria.

It being a non-school day, the lines were much shorter than usual. I suspected many would wait to show up for the combat portions that started after lunch. Yesterday’s afternoon session had been dedicated to marksmanship competitions – like Archery, Knife Throwing, and Manatech Weapons.

I’d initially considered competing in the Manatech Weapons division but ultimately decided against it. I was good, but some of the students I’d seen competing the day before were much better. They had to have unnaturally high Perception and Dexterity to aim like that. I could hit my target, but I was no marksman. Even against my fellow students, I simply could not compete.

That’s why I added targeting runes to my weapons.

Unfortunately, that was not allowed in the competition. What it did allow was for competitors to use the full strength of their leveled avatars. I’d only realized this detail when I went to sign up for the Mage and Quarterstaff competitions. I wasn’t sure why I’d thought the tournaments would use our base attributes – perhaps it was because that’s how our combat class worked. Regardless, I was pointedly informed that competitors would be granted their in-game progression, placing me distinctly behind the power curve.

Since I was under leveled compared to many of my classmates, I’d limited myself to watching instead of trying to compete in any of the combat categories. While my magic may be strong, it wouldn’t be nearly as effective against Tier Three opponents. Their progression might be unrealistic as far as speed of leveling went outside of the game, but it was well within limits for a virtual world with nearly unlimited rifts to delve.

The afternoon competitions had shifted to direct combat brackets, with today and tomorrow being dedicated to fighters competing within the same weapon categories. People using swords would only fight other people using swords, and so on. The last day was dedicated solely to combat, with no other categories splitting the day. The top three combat contestants for each of the previous categories would have to compete against each other.

Though they were distinct portions of the tournament, each with its own winners, the judges likely used the earlier rankings to decide who would fight who in the second half. I doubted it was a genuinely random match, like they claimed. Though I didn’t care much about who won, I was interested in watching people fight with different weapons and styles.

Like the previous marksmanship competitions, today's combat competitions highlighted the differences between fighters. Though they were each paired against a combatant in the same weapon category, the variation between weapons and styles was significant.

It was enthralling to watch, and only spurred my desire to improve my weapon skills even further. I’d never be a master at melee, and that was fine. But I’d already experienced multiple situations where my magic either wouldn’t be enough on its own or was completely neutralized and useless. Being part of a well-balanced party would offset most of that. Still, I wasn’t guaranteed to always have someone with me when faced with dangerous situations.

It was better to be prepared, which was why I’d created my multi-weapon in the first place.

= = =

A day later, I found myself glaring at the blinking red light informing me that my time was up. A glance at my table made it obvious to anyone watching that I’d failed to assemble my submission in time, meaning I was out of the Artificing competition.

“You came close. Another twenty minutes and you’d have finished,” Ms. Maker said from the other side of my workstation. I tried to suppress a glare but clearly failed based on her expression. “Hey, it’s not my fault you were overly ambitious. Programming crystals should be beyond your abilities anyway since they require Expert Enchanting techniques.”

“Then why did you teach me how to do it?” I asked as I glared at the barrier keeping me from continuing my work.

“Because it’s only an Advanced Artificing technique, and you weren’t learning enough in the Intermediate Artificing class. I already told you that you’d advance both skills a lot faster if you focused on Artificing,” she said with a smug smirk.

“But Artificing doesn’t teach all the Enchanting techniques,” I argued. It was the same justification I gave when we discussed the topic the last three times.

“Meh,” she said with a dismissive wave. “Those are mostly trash techniques anyway. Who needs to know how to tattoo a rune on someone’s body?”

“Uh, me? I’m absolutely giving myself a personal inventory when I can get strong enough materials in the physical world,” I said. “Not only that, I could add empowering runes to make me stronger and smarter. It’s like a cheat way to get more power out of each level.”

“Yes, but it’s ugly. Also, damaging the runes could have horrible effects. Even gaining or losing weight can ruin a rune. In the best case, they stop working. In the worst…” she trailed off, not needing to describe the horrible fate awaiting those who were unlucky.

“That’s why I plan to use an anchoring technique instead of actual tattoos,” I said.

“Exactly!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “Tattooing is a garbage Enchanting technique.”

That’s what it really came down to. Ms. Maker hated the concept of tattooing runes on the body as enchantments. I was pretty sure she’d had something bad happen to someone she knew, but I didn’t feel comfortable enough with the woman to ask.

“Well, you’ve been disqualified, but tell me what you made anyway,” my mentor said as she dropped the silence bubble I hadn’t noticed.

“A runic engraver. It’s supposed to take care of the physical engraving by using a compatible mana type to manipulate the base item. While the runes created won’t be as strong as one done by hand, they’ll still work as long as the person adding the reagents and imbuing the enchantment incorporates sufficient intent,” I said tiredly as I looked over the partially assembled device.

It looked a lot like a 3D printer or laser engraver, which was what I’d used as the base design. If it worked correctly, the user wouldn’t have to manually draw the runes while focusing their intent like was required with handheld runic engravers. The device would take care of all the mechanical aspects of engraving, leaving the user to focus only on the rune design and its purpose as they channeled mana into the control crystal.

“Yes, we have something like this already, but they are expensive devices to make and purchase,” she said as she looked over the unassembled device. “They are usually quite finicky. You have to train the user really well, or the devices don’t work properly.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I noticed that too. I could have programmed in the runes and connections or pre-programmed specific combinations, but I left it open to the user instead. That way, I wouldn’t be stuck with a device limited to making a few things.”

My teacher and sometimes mentor tapped her chin before giving me a wry smile. “I think I’m going to enjoy having you as my assistant after World Junction is released.” With that, Ms. Maker walked away, not bothering to say goodbye. It was expected, though. The Artificer rarely bothered with things like that.

“Hey! Sorry to hear you were disqualified,” Jun said as soon as my mentor departed, heading in the opposite direction. Her workstation was beside mine this time, meaning she’d likely be the last one judged by the higher-tier Artificer.

I laughed lightly. “Thanks. It’s okay, though.” I looked at the device held in my friend’s hands. “Did everything work out okay for your submission?”

“Yes! It was so close. It didn’t turn out how I wanted, but it still works! Hopefully, I’m judged on the idea and it’s potential instead of just what I could put together in a few hours. Seriously!” she said, as if put out. “What were they thinking limiting an Artificing competition to just four hours? If I hadn’t done literally everything possible aside from engraving the runes and installing the mana cores, there was no way I’d have finished in time.” She gave me an apologetic look at the comment.

“I totally agree,” I started before getting cut off by a new judge approaching Jun’s workstation.

I was not very surprised when Jun won First place. She beamed as she walked up to the small stage – the same one we’d used the day before – and accepted her award. She’d wanted to impress the higher-ups at Atlas, and, given the judges' reactions, it seemed she’d succeeded in her endeavor.