The Moon Fangs had served him well. Deadly, sharp, and perfect for close quarters. But against larger foes, or in wide-open spaces? They lacked reach. Their balance was different. They were backup tools now—not the centerpiece.
He needed something more versatile.
More brutal.
"Not just a sword and shield," he whispered, pacing the room. "But a shield that cuts."
The vision crystallized.
A heavy buckler, reinforced and layered, built to block—but mounted not at its center, like most weapon-shields. No, Ren envisioned the blade extending from the shield's edge, aligned directly with the position of his hand. When wielded, it would function almost like a large, armored gauntlet, with the edge-blade protruding like a deadly extension of his forearm.
The blade itself would be modeled after the cinquedea—wide at the base for strength and stability, tapering to a sharp, deadly point. Over a foot and a half long, double-edged and capable of thrusting or slashing in close combat. Perfect for quick, brutal strikes while keeping the rest of his body shielded. It would allow him to attack and defend in the same motion—pressing forward while warding off incoming blows.
A brutal union of offense and defense, designed not just to survive—but to dominate.
And then the sword.
Something modular.
Disposable blades forged in sets—lightweight, replaceable, interlocking hilts with ejectable cores. So when a blade dulled, shattered, or broke—it could be replaced in seconds.
Not repaired. Replaced.
It wasn't traditional. But neither was he.
He grabbed a sheet of parchment and began sketching.
A list formed beside it:
✅ Pulseguard forged
☐ Reinforced Chainmail (Runic Rings – ~150)
☐ Edge-Blade Buckler (Cinquedea – Hand Extension Mount)
☐ Replaceable Modular Sword (Snap-Core Type)
This would be his new project—his real gear.
And tomorrow, he would return to the forge not as a hopeful apprentice, but as a smith with vision.
The kind who bent metal not for coin or tradition.
But for survival.
The morning forge roared to life.
Ren stood at his station, sleeves tied high, sweat already beading down his brow before the first ingot hit the fire. Today wasn't just about leveling up his skills—it was the first true step toward building gear that would define him.
He began with the sword.
The design was clear in his mind: not a standard straight blade, but a curved katana—single-edged, finely balanced, and honed for precision. Lightweight but deadly, it would allow fluid strikes and deadly follow-throughs, ideal for both slashing and thrusting. But the key wasn't the blade alone—it was the hilt.
Ren engineered a locking core using layered springs and interlocking grooves, crafting a seamless mechanism that would lock the katana blade in place during combat, but eject it with a twist and press when dulled or broken. The system required finesse, and failure came often. But failure was fuel.
By the end of the day, the hilt was complete. And soon after, one by one, the blades followed.
Ten in total.
Two for each element—earth, fire, wind, water, and lightning.
The earth blades were heavier, with dense cores and dull bronze hues—perfect for shattering armor and staggering foes. Fire blades glowed with faint embers, narrow and sharp, designed for slicing and cauterizing. Wind blades were lighter, razor-thin and curved like leaves in the breeze, leaving vapor trails with each motion. The water set shimmered in the forge light, the edges fluid and elegant, ideal for flowing strikes and quick redirects. The lightning blades crackled faintly with embedded runic powder, their surface etched with jagged energy lines, excellent for shocking enemies and piercing through defenses.
Each katana blade was crafted for a specific combat scenario.
Each was a tactical choice.
Ren finished the last with aching arms and a fierce grin. With this elemental arsenal, he could counter nearly any resistance—or exploit an enemy's flaw with surgical precision.
But he wasn't done.
Next came the buckler.
A simple disc of steel became the base—but Ren transformed it into something far more dangerous. Along the inner edge of the buckler, where his hand would grip the shield, he forged a reinforced groove that housed a removable cinquedea-style blade. Over one and a half feet long, double-edged, and shaped like a wide dagger, the blade jutted out from the arm-guard at a natural slashing angle. It would allow Ren to swing, parry, and stab with the same motion.
The mechanism matched the katana's—quick release, elemental rotation, reusable.
And so, ten more blades were forged, paired by element to match his sword arsenal.
When that was done, he finally turned to the chainmail.
This wasn't a flashy project, but it was by far the most ambitious. Every ring had to be forged, imbued, and linked manually. And every one would provide a bonus.
With his new skill, Mana Trace Purge, Ren stripped warped mana from scrap metal rings. Then, using runic alchemic infusion, he imprinted each with a minor stat boost. +1 Agility. +1 Endurance. +1 Strength. Even the tiniest stat could mean the difference between life and death when multiplied hundreds of times over.
Ring by ring, the mail came together.
When he reached 100 rings, a system prompt appeared:
[Forging Skill (Chain): Level Up!]
He kept going.
500 rings.
Each link improved his forging, alchemy, and infusion skills. More than that—it was forging his discipline.
He laid the finished shirt on the anvil. Lightweight. Dense. Glowing subtly at the seams with a delicate network of new mana traces. His greatest work yet.
Just then, a low grunt came from behind.
Ren turned.
Master Ferrin stood there, unmoving, arms folded tight—but his wide eyes told another story.
"…This boy…" Ferrin muttered. "This boy's a damn genius."
Ren blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?"
"You were a walking disaster when you came here. Now you're forging high-grade, elemental-swappable weapons with a katana core and shield blades. And this—" he pointed at the chainmail—"this is insane. Do you even know what you've made?"
Ren scratched the back of his neck. "Still needs work."
Ferrin scoffed, but his grin betrayed him. "Keep working, then. Just don't burn my forge down."
Ren smiled, bowing slightly. "Thanks, Master Ferrin."
He turned back to admire his arsenal—blade, buckler, armor—each crafted with purpose and intent.
And in his heart, one thought echoed: This is only the beginning.
Ren exhaled, lowering his blade with a calm hand.
He couldn't stop smiling.
It worked. Every piece. Every idea… it all worked.
He called forth his system mentally, and the familiar golden screen slid into his view.
Status: Ren Arclight
Level: 35
Class: Unassigned
HP: 940/940
MP: 680/680
Strength: 212
Agility: 157
Defense: 53
Magic: 58
Perception: 29
Titles:
– Alpha Slayer
– Self-Forged
Gear Bonuses:
– Chainmail of Echo Threads: +60 Strength, +40 Agility, +15 Magic, +10 Defense
– Wolf Cloak of the Alpha: +5 Agility, +10% Cold Resistance, +Aura of Predation (Intimidates Beast-type foes)
– Katana of the Storm Fang (Wind): +15 Agility, +5% Critical Chance, Elemental Slash
– Cinquedea Buckler (Wind): +12 Defense, +10 Agility, Blade Extension Skill
And this was without his full loadout of elemental blades or future equipment.
The murmurs behind him grew louder—excitement, disbelief, curiosity. Adventurers watched him like he was a new phenomenon, a storm wrapped in human form. But Ren didn't bask in it. He lowered his head slightly and turned away.
Not yet, he thought. I'm not ready. Not fully.
The crowd faded into silence as Ren walked calmly out of the arena. Even as awe trailed behind him, his mind was elsewhere.
That night, Ren sat on the edge of his bed in the inn, the moonlight trickling through the open window once more. The scent of iron and oil from the forge still clung faintly to his clothes.
He stared down at his hands—rough, burned in places, scarred from hammer strikes and mana backlash.
What else? What's still missing?
His thoughts churned.
The Alpha cloak, sword, buckler, and chainmail were all powerful—designed for survival, speed, and control. But real combat was unpredictable. If he lost his sword in the middle of a fight, what then? If his movement were hindered, if he took a crippling strike—
He needed more.
He began to sketch ideas on the notebook he kept by his bedside.
First: an armguard for his right hand, fitted with a blade extension hidden beneath a hinged cover. A failsafe weapon, quick to deploy. Second: lightweight greaves, forged with speed enchantments—boosts to footwork, sudden dashes, aerial mobility.
He circled the next idea: Protection bands—crafted for his biceps, triceps, and thighs. Flexible yet reinforced, they'd serve as a second layer of defense while also enhancing strength and reaction speed through enchanted circuits.
Then: shoulder pauldrons. Nothing bulky, but solid enough to deflect blows. They'd be fitted to integrate seamlessly with his Alpha Wolf cloak—magnetized or clipped in for ease of removal and adjustment.
Next came an unusual thought.
A scarf.
But not for style—no, for utility.
He envisioned a tailored scarf, woven from mana-sensitive silk and imbued with magic threads. The enchantments would enhance spellcasting speed and amplify his mana control. Combined with a new skill he'd glimpsed in the shop—Motion Weave Casting—he'd be able to cast spells while dodging, sprinting, or even striking.
It wouldn't lock him down anymore. It would finally let him fight and cast as one seamless motion.
And finally… the most ambitious piece.
Rings. Ten of them. One for each finger.
Each would carry a unique enchantment—one for regeneration, another for elemental control, one for magical resistance, one to detect stealth, and so on.
But the most critical ring—was storage.
An Item Storage Ring.
If I want to carry elemental blades, tools, potions, books… I need space.
He'd seen glimpses of such items before—small, discreet, but capable of holding dozens of inventory slots in a pocket dimension. But crafting such a ring wasn't simple. It required control over space magic, and possibly time magic for stability.
Ren exhaled slowly, closing his book.
To unlock those abilities… he'd need an enormous amount of skill points.
That means more grinding. More progression. More mastery.
But he wasn't frustrated. No, he was excited.
Because now he had a vision.
A complete set of gear, each piece designed not just to survive—but to dominate. Tools created with precision, enchanted with purpose, and honed by his own hands.
And tomorrow, it would all begin again.
The morning sun crept through the workshop windows as Ren returned to the forge. Master Ferrin was already hammering away, but gave him a small nod as the young man moved toward his workstation. Ren wasted no time—he set out to begin the next phase of his gear.
First came the armguard—a sturdy piece built to brace his dominant right forearm. He fitted a small channel beneath the bracer, housing a hidden blade that could extend with a flick of his wrist. Using his newly developed forging methods, he reinforced the guard with mana-imbued alloy, balancing flexibility and strength.
Next came the lightweight greaves. Using enchanted runic powder fused into the molten metal, he imbued them with minor speed boosts, just enough to amplify his agility in combat without compromising stealth or stability.
He moved on to the bicep and thigh guards, each hammered and carved individually to contour his limbs. These too were carefully enchanted—one for stamina regeneration, another for weight reduction, a third for mana buffering.
Finally, he began shaping the shoulder pauldrons, designing anchor points to secure them beneath the Alpha Wolf cloak. He envisioned a modular system: pauldrons that could detach and reattach easily depending on combat loadout.
By the time the sun fell, his progress was steady—his skills advanced further, his body growing accustomed to the rigors of prolonged forging.
That night, with soot still under his fingernails, Ren returned to the bookstore for what he expected to be the final time.
The familiar chime of the door rang as he entered, and the librarian greeted him with a gentle smile tinged with sadness.
"So... today's the last of them, huh?" she asked softly.
Ren nodded. "I've read everything on the shelves, it seems."
She led him to the final stack—books on rare enchantments, magical ecosystems, and advanced energy conversion theories. He devoured them with the same hunger he always had, sitting cross-legged in the corner of the shop for hours, his eyes never leaving the pages.
As he rose to leave, the librarian hesitated.
"Wait," she said, voice catching on something unspoken. "I... almost forgot. There's one more. Not on the shelf."
She walked over to the back wall and knelt down, pulling out a small, dust-covered chest. She blew gently on its lid, revealing aged carvings and a delicate latch. With a thumb flick, she undid the lock and slowly opened it.
Inside lay a pristine book, untouched by time. Its cover shimmered like starlight, etched with foreign symbols that pulsed softly with arcane light.
"The Art of Space and Time Magic," she whispered. "My great-grandfather received this from an archmage before the wars. It's been in our family for generations… but no one's ever been able to read it. Until now, maybe."
Ren's eyes widened. He approached slowly and lifted the book with both hands—reverent, breath caught in his chest. It was like holding a holy artifact. The system pinged.
New Skills Acquired:
– Space Magic (Novice)
– Time Magic (Novice)
His heart thundered in his chest.
Unable to stop himself, he opened the book and began reading where he stood, eyes racing across ancient glyphs that somehow made perfect sense to him.
The librarian watched in awe as the air around them began to bend—the walls pulsing gently, the lighting warping like heat over fire.
"W-What's happening?!" she gasped, stepping back.
But before she could panic, Ren exhaled and closed the book momentarily. The room returned to normal.
"I'm... sorry," he said, brow furrowed. "I didn't mean to—"
"You were warping space," she said slowly. "You didn't notice?"
Ren looked at the book, then back at her.
"I need to read this alone," he said.
She gave a cautious nod. "I'll step out for a bit. Just… don't collapse the building, alright?"
Ren chuckled faintly. "No promises."
He sat at the central table, opened the tome again, and began reading—this time more carefully. The air shifted almost immediately. The light outside dulled. Sound muffled.
Time stretched.
The walls began to echo with overlapping reflections, and faint particles drifted like stardust in the space between thoughts.
Hours passed for Ren.
He read about bending localized gravity, accelerating one's perception, creating rifts to hold objects across dimensions. The principles were as intricate as forging, as natural to him as breathing.
When he finally closed the book, he stood and stretched.
"Librarian?" he called.
She opened the back door and peeked in, confused.
"Done already?"
Ren blinked. "That was… five hours. Maybe more."
She shook her head. "It's only been… thirty seconds?"
The air between them hung still for a moment.
Then realization dawned.
"I altered time," Ren murmured. "Time inside the room moved slower out there. Or faster in here. Or both."
He turned the book over in his hands. This… is power.
The system chimed again—clear, reverberant, and profound.
Time Magic leveled up!
Space Magic leveled up!
New Subskills Unlocked:
– Temporal Displacement
– Acceleration Field
– Dimensional Storage (Unlocked) ✅
Ren's eyes widened as the last entry flickered with a soft blue light, no longer greyed out.
"Seraphina," he said aloud, his voice hushed with awe. "Did you see that? Dimensional Storage is active."
"Yes," she replied calmly in his mind. "Your understanding of space has deepened to the threshold required. You may now create a pocket dimension accessible through magical attunement. Storage capacity scales with your Space Magic level."
Ren stretched out his hand instinctively. The air shimmered. With a focused breath, he willed his mana forward—and a small, flickering tear opened in the space before him, like a vertical ripple in a lake's surface. A gentle suction followed. He reached toward the table, picked up a loose candleholder, and guided it into the rift. It vanished.
He exhaled. Then reached again—thought of the item—and the rift responded, placing the candleholder back in his palm.
"It's real," he whispered. "A true inventory system."
He could now store hundreds of tools, replacement blades, spare gear, potions—anything. No more cluttered bags. No more worrying about weight. This changed everything.
"I have to get back to the forge," he muttered, still stunned by the implications. "This… this is the breakthrough I needed."
He turned to the librarian, who had quietly watched the flickering shimmer in the air with astonishment.
"That wasn't in the book, was it?" she asked, half-joking, half-nervous.
Ren gave a small grin. "It was. Just buried between the lines."
She clasped her hands behind her back. "I've never seen anything like that."
Ren bowed slightly, sincere. "Thank you. For trusting me with this."
"I don't think I had a choice," she said with a soft laugh. "That book chose you, not the other way around."
Ren stepped outside, moonlight catching on the silver fangs of his cloak. The night air was cool, almost weightless. The stars above shimmered slightly brighter, or maybe he was just seeing them more clearly now—because for the first time since arriving in this world, Ren Arclight held dominion not just over steel and flame, but space and time itself.
With Dimensional Storage now a part of his own magic, the idea of forging a specialized ring for it felt redundant. Ren stood silently beneath the stars, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "No point wasting the slot," he muttered, flexing his fingers as he imagined the ten rings he planned to wear. "I'll replace it with something more useful… something I can't replicate through magic alone."
He made a mental note to review enchantments for elemental resistances, passive barriers, and combat-triggered effects. Maybe one ring could generate a reactive ward when struck. Another could boost his stamina regen. If he was going to fill all ten fingers, then each had to serve a tactical purpose.
The forge awaited.
Back at Master Ferrin's forge, the embers still glowed from the last fire. Ren entered at sunrise, the smith already hard at work hammering a glowing ingot on the main anvil. Without looking up, Ferrin grunted.
"You're early."
"I've got a full set to finish."
This time, Ferrin did glance up, and something in his expression—though still gruff—softened with respect.
"You'd better not waste that magic of yours, boy."
Ren simply nodded, and set to work.
The Forging Phase: Final Gear Creation
He began with the right armguard—a thick bracer of composite alloy, lightweight but dense. Built into the underside, he forged a spring-locked mechanism that extended a retractable blade—shorter than his katana but sharp and quick. It would serve as both a backup weapon and a surprise tactic. He imbued the bracer with earth and wind resistance, just enough to protect from crushing blows and redirect projectiles.
Next came the greaves, molded with reinforced plating and engraved with runes that boosted his movement speed slightly. The enchantments were subtle but consistent, channeling magic to his legs to amplify momentum and balance.
He crafted bandguards for his biceps and triceps, followed by matching armor for his thighs. These were less about raw defense and more about kinetic transfer—mitigating fatigue and absorbing recoil from high-mobility combat. He added small slots for potion vials on the inside of the thigh plates, giving him emergency access during battle.
Then came the shoulder pauldrons, crafted with careful attention to symmetry so they wouldn't interfere with his Alpha Wolf coat. They latched beneath the cloak, seamlessly integrating into the design. Ren traced runes across them that created a passive mana field—like a magical deflection aura that weakened incoming spells.
For the tailored scarf, Ren used a fine enchanted thread acquired from the guild—a silk-like weave of mana-sensitive fibers. As he worked, he imbued the cloth with two new skills: Casting Flow and Combat Weave. The former enhanced his casting speed and accuracy while moving; the latter created minimal mana strain while multi-tasking spells with melee. The scarf felt like a simple accessory—but Ren knew better. It was a caster's battle gear in disguise.
And finally, he moved on to the rings. Each one had to be forged, shaped, cooled, and enchanted individually. With Dimensional Storage now unlocked within himself, he chose ten new effects:
Ring of Emberguard – Grants resistance to fire damage.
Ring of the Azure Veil – Increases mana regeneration by 15%.
Ring of Steeled Nerves – Boosts status resistance against paralysis and confusion.
Ring of Echo Cast – 10% chance to repeat a casted spell.
Ring of Specter Step – Slightly increases evasion during combat.
Ring of the Northwind – Boosts movement speed during low HP.
Ring of Bastion – Auto-generates a weak barrier upon taking critical damage.
Ring of Quickbind – Reduces cooldown of non-damaging spells.
Ring of Harmony – Improves synergy between dual weapons.
Ring of Life Thread – Slowly regenerates HP outside of combat.
Each enchantment took time—painstaking effort to bind, stabilize, and balance within the delicate confines of jewelry. But by the end of the night, Ren stood at the forge, surrounded by his completed gear. Steam drifted from the metal. The air shimmered with latent mana.
Master Ferrin stood at the edge of the workshop, arms crossed, nodding slowly.
"You've made more progress in a week than most apprentices make in five years," he muttered. "It ain't just talent. It's obsession."
Ren fastened the last ring onto his finger and looked down at himself—fully armored in a set made entirely by his own hands. A mix of plate, leather, cloth, and magic, built for versatility, speed, and dominance on the battlefield.
"It's not obsession," Ren said quietly. "It's survival. And I'm not done yet."