The lever slid down roughly. It hit the bottom with a thud. A passageway groaned open.
Green torches lit one by one, casting flickering light down the long corridor.
I gripped my chisel tighter and stepped into the passageway.
About twenty meters in, the hallway opened into a wide, circular chamber. Four stone pillars stood like sentinels, forming a square around a pedestal in the center.
Resting atop it was the Red Vine Core.
It was spherical, like the Husk Core, but pulsed a deeper red in the center. Small tendrils branched outward like veins, encased in a semi-translucent crimson shell.
A screen appeared.
[Vine Guardian – Level 5, Plant-type Monster]
"Level five?" I muttered, pulse quickening.
No sooner did the screen vanish than the room began to tremble. Vines shot from the ground, weaving together into a hulking mass. They twisted and tightened, shaping into something horrifyingly human — broad-shouldered, tall, armored in bark and bramble.
Its weapon was a twisted staff lined with thorns.
Two green bulbs blinked open where eyes should be.
It raised its staff and pointed it at me.
I raised my scimitar in turn, chisel in my off hand.
We locked eyes.
Then it lunged.
It came fast — faster than I expected. The staff aimed like a spear straight for my chest.
I rolled under it, barely avoiding a skewering. I slashed up at its side, slicing a third of the way into its torso — and then stopped. My blade was stuck in the dense, rubbery vines.
"Damn."
The Guardian swept its staff sideways. I jumped back, heart pounding, now armed only with a chisel.
The monster raised its staff again.
That's when something shifted.
A jolt surged through me — not panic, not instinct. Focus.
Blueprints weren't appearing in my mind like normal… they were forming live, evolving in real time. The monster's body. The structure of its vines. The angles of its weapon. The tension in the joints. I could see the logic of it. The weak points. The flaws.
[Builder's Insight Triggered]
Analyzing structure
My eyes locked on the torso — there, just beneath the upper right shoulder. A knot in the weave. A structural flaw. If I could strike it, the whole upper half would unspool.
It charged again.
I ducked under the staff, rolled left, and sprinted toward my half-buried scimitar. In one clean motion I gripped it, planted my foot, and used the Guardian's momentum.
With a sharp cry, I drove the blade upward — right into the flaw.
The vines unraveled like rope under pressure.
The Guardian shrieked — not with sound, but with the screech of twisting vines and snapping roots.
It collapsed backward, slamming into the floor in a spray of ash and plant matter.
Then it was still.
A screen appeared.
[Drops]: 8 Strong Vines | Vine Core | 2 Green Solid Vines
The Guardian reformed into the dropped items. I stored the Strong Vines in my bag now totaling thirteen. The vine core was just like the Red vine core but it was green rather than red. The Solid vines were similar to the weapon that the Guardian had except they had no thorns.
I looked around. Nothing else except the Red vine core on the pedestal.
I walked up to the pedestal.
I carefully lifted off the red core.
Nothing happened.
I stored the drops and assessed myself.
Not too hurt. A few scratches, a little shaken. But overall okay. I discovered a new feature of my Class's skill. Builders insight. It gave me a moment of clarity and allowed me to breakdown the monster as if it was a blueprint, exposing its weaknesses. I walked out the chamber, the passageway, the square room, then out and up the stairs.
Finally I could rest. Or so I thought.
Five more Tangle Husks sprouted from the ground. Unlike the other one I fought, they were within striking distance. Using my scimitar and chisel I was able to make short work of them.
[Drops]: 6 Strong Vines | 2 Husk Cores | Green Solid Vine
Neat.
Now I can rest, after I craft this armor of course.
I dumped out my bag, laying out the materials I'd gathered: ten Strong Vines, three Husk Cores, and the Red Vine Core.
The requirements matched the memory burned into my brain.
I knelt beside the pile and took a deep breath.
The ground was quiet. The air still.
Time to build.
The materials began to fit together in my mind. The weave. The tension. The placement of the cores. Not just armor — living armor. Vines would bend but not snap. The cores would harden the chest and joints. It wouldn't just defend me — it would breathe with me.
Then a screen appeared.
[Crafting Detected: Vine Armor]
Begin Construction?
[Yes] | [No]
I pressed yes.
There was no flash, no light show. Just me — working with the knowledge embedded in my hands.
I braided the Strong Vines into a dense, overlapping pattern. Layered and interlocked. The Green Solid Vines became shoulder plates, flexible but firm. The Husk Cores were pressed into the chest, reinforcing the structure with a hardened bark texture.
Then came the final step: placing the Red Vine Core at the heart of the armor.
The moment I did, the core pulsed — once.
The armor tightened into place. Like it recognized me.
A screen appeared again.
[Vine Armor Created]
Durability: High
Special Effect: +25% defense vs. Plant-type enemies
Passive Ability: Vine Sync – slightly enhances movement when worn in natural terrain.
I stood up.
The armor moved with me — light, flexible, and somehow alive.
I wasn't just some lost Crafter anymore. I was becoming something more.
I looked out into the forest.
I felt accomplished and grounded like my journey has only just begun.
The guiding light changed no longer pulling me toward the Level Stone, or the Ruins.
Then a screen appeared.
[Quest Complete]: Ruins
[Secret Quest Complete]: Craft Vine armor
[Issuing rewards]
Three quick flashes followed:
[Level Increased]: 3/99
[New Passive Unlocked]: Natural Attunement
Crafting speed increased slightly when surrounded by living materials. Organic components gain minor quality boost.
[Skill Unlocked]: Material Sense
Sense nearby usable materials within a small radius. Passive awareness of unique crafting components.
I exhaled slowly, watching the text fade into the air.
I looked down at the armor I had built — bark-like but flexible, fitted close, sturdy. The vine core pulsed faintly at the chest, and it was warm, almost like it was alive. Every seam had been sealed by hand, every thread locked through instinct and experience. It wasn't just gear. It was me — everything I'd learned, everything I'd shaped.
Then I touched the red core.
The armor began to fold in on itself — vines weaving inward, bark panels compressing, joints clicking into place — until it became a compact green cube, the red core gleaming faintly on top.
I blinked.
I tapped it again.
The cube unraveled instantly, the armor expanding outward and slipping back into shape like it had never moved.
I stared at it.
"…Well, that's convenient."
I couldn't help but smile. I hadn't even tried to build something like that. But somehow, I had. Not just armor — adaptive armor. Something that could grow, respond, evolve.
I ran my fingers over the red core once more, feeling the faint pulse beneath the surface.
This wasn't the end of the road.
It was the beginning.
It was already dark so I scrapped together a fire. I looked around for a bed when the armor started to change, it started to lay flat, inviting me to rest on it. So I did.
I closed my eyes.
The fire crackled beside me. The armor beneath me shifted slightly, softening just enough to cradle my back. It was warm, like it remembered me.
Sleep took hold quickly.
Then—
A cold wind.
The crackling fire gone.
I opened my eyes.
I wasn't in the willow forest anymore.
I was standing in the ruins again — only now, the vines were dead. Gray. Ash-like. The pillars were broken. The air was dry and wrong. The pedestal that once held the Red Vine Core was shattered, vines spilling out like veins from a wound.
I took a step forward.
The ground pulsed beneath me — once, twice, like a heartbeat.
Then a massive shadow rose from the ground.
Something huge, towering over the ruins. A beast made not of vines, but bone and blackened bark. Its eyes were hollow holes leaking smoke. It wore armor — not unlike the vine armor I had crafted… only corrupted. Twisted. Wrong.
The screen appeared:
[Classless Guardian – Unknown]
Warning: This entity cannot be defeated at your current level.
It raised a hand and pointed at me.
The same motion the Vine Guardian made.
I raised my weapon—but it wasn't there. My hands were empty.
I took a step back.
Then another screen appeared.
[Warning: Unstable Future Detected]
Wave Two will bring with it something… different.
Prepare.
The world tilted.
My vision blurred.
Then the shadow lunged—
I gasped.
I was back by the fire.
Sweating. Heart pounding.
The armor hadn't moved. The stars were still overhead. The flames still danced.
But the feeling hadn't left me.
Something's coming.
And it's not just another wave.
I touched the armor, it transformed back into a cube.
It seemed to sense my intention and wrapped a small vine around my belt. Now I could carry it easily.
"What a weird dream," I muttered.
The sun had just risen. I didn't feel well-rested, but at the very least, I had something to look forward to — the village.
It had only been four days since I set out on this adventure. Three days of walking through the forest. One day spent battling vines in a ruin.
I gathered my gear and set off.
The trek back was long and quiet. Without Finn's Far-Sight, I had to rely on instinct and memory.
The willow forest slowly gave way to pine.
It was eerily still. No voices. Just the occasional animal call or rustling stream.
But the silence gave me time to think.
"I've got plenty of organic materials now. A bunch of vines…"
Every so often, my new Material Sense ability would nudge me toward something. Sometimes useful. Sometimes just junk — a crooked stick, a weirdly shaped rock, or once, a piece of bark labeled 'Unique.' Kind of a letdown after nearly dying to retrieve a glowing core… but it was all worth it.
By the end of the day, I was starving. All I'd eaten were a few wild berries.
I couldn't track or hunt prey well, but Blueprint Memory had a few traps I remembered.
I got to work.
With some sticks and strong vines, I built a few deadfalls and small-game snares along nearby trails. Then I curled up beneath a tree and slept.
Thankfully, no dreams.
The next morning, I checked my traps.
Three flattened mice. One small bird.
Not bad.
I started a fire.
After skinning and gutting the mice, I roasted them on sticks over the flame. While they cooked, I de-feathered the bird and cleaned it for later.
I ate the mice, then packed the cooked bird as a midday snack.
Another day. Another night.
But now I could feel it — the guiding light pulling steadily. The village was close.
Motivated, I ran the rest of the way.
No dragon in sight. No smoldering ruins. No burnt bodies.
Just a bustling town.
Voices. Smoke curling from chimneys. Tools clanging in workshops.
I smiled.
Mira spotted me first. She ran over, smiling wide, talking fast.
I tried to keep up, but my eyelids were heavy. I caught something about a puzzle she solved.
"Okay. I'll tell you everything tomorrow, I promise," I said, already halfway out of the conversation.
I staggered into one of the five-person homes — my home — and collapsed into bed.
The warmth of the village wrapped around me.
I slept great.
But I awoke with a start.
Mira was shaking me, panic in her voice.
"Get up. Now. Something's happening."
My eyes snapped open — and the first thing I saw was a screen:
[Wave Two Arriving]: Now