The heavy oak door of the room clicked shut, finally cutting off the sounds of the bustling mansion. Eon leaned his back against the wooden chair and let out a long, ragged breath. His heart was still beating a bit too fast, and the phantom sound of Teressa's voice, specifically the way she had whispered his name in the hallway and then winked at him in the meeting room, seemed to echo in his ears.
'Get it together, Jin-ho,' he told himself, rubbing his face with his hands. 'You are a High Elf leader now. You have an army to build. You have a kingdom to save. You cannot let a flirtatious Countess throw you off your game.'
But it was hard. Back on Earth, Jin-ho had been a man who spent fourteen hours a day hauling boxes or stocking shelves. His romantic life had been non-existent, mostly consisting of tired smiles at convenience store customers who didn't even looked up at his face. Now, he was in a body that was essentially a masterpiece of nature, and the women around him were not only noticing but giving him strabge signals. It was a weird experience for him.
He walked over to his desk and sat down, trying to clear his mind. He needed to focus on the one thing that made sense: the System. His crafting skill.
Just as he opened up his system screen, aq sound came from behind him. "Eon?"
The voice made him jump. He looked up to see Elora Denares standing by the window. She had apparently entered into the room without him noticing.
She was leaning against a bookshelf, her arms crossed, looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and something that looked suspiciously like a pout.
"Elora," Eon said, his voice regaining its flat, calm tone. "Shouldn't you be with your brother? Or perhaps resting?"
"Alaric is busy playing 'High Lord' for his soldiers," Elora said, pushing off the shelf and walking toward his desk. "And I'm not tired. I want to know what you're doing. You have that look on your face again."
"What look?"
"The look where you're about to invent something weird," she said, peering over his shoulder. "Like that metal face-knife or the leather foot-loops. What is it this time?"
Eon sighed. He liked Elora's spirit, but her constant presence was becoming a distraction. He needed silence to navigate the new menus of his Crafting skill.
"Elora, I need to focus," he said gently. "Why don't you go find Verra? She was looking for someone to help organize the mana-stones in the lower cellar."
Elora's expression immediately soured. She wrinkled her nose as if she had just smelled something rotten. "Verra? No way. She hates me."
Eon paused. He looked at Elora and then thought about the mage elf. Verra was usually quiet and professional, but he had noticed the coldness she showed toward the humans in the mansion, especially Elora.
'I can't really blame her,' Eon thought.
Only a day passed, Verra had lost her daughter. After going throught so much all these years, she managed to keed her daughter as safe as she can, but in a moment she was gone. Of course she is pissed at all humans. It wont be wrong to say, if not for him and elsa, she would have already gone rogue.
She was still in deep mourning, her heart a jagged shard of grief. To her, seeing a human noble like Elora, the sister of the men who had technically started this mess, hovering around like a bored socialite was likely infuriating. To Verra, Elora was a reminder of everything she had lost.
"Verra doesn't hate you, Elora," Eon lied, though he knew it was a thin lie. "She is just in pain. She lost her daughter, her only family. It's hard for her to look at anyone right now, let alone someone from House Denares."
Elora's posture slumped. The fire in her eyes died down, replaced by a flicker of genuine guilt. She looked down at her boots. "I...I know... I just didn't mean to be a nuisance."
"I know," Eon said. "But since you want to be useful, I have a different task for you. We need the elves to be ready for a real fight. Liam is going to be conducting combat drills in the courtyard. I want you to join them."
Elora blinked. "You want me to train with the elves? With wooden swords?"
"Not wooden," Eon corrected. "Ask Elsa to get some real steel. We need you to know how to defend yourself properly, and the elves need to get used to fighting alongside a human ally. It builds trust."
"Oh, Countess Teressa already found a stash of swords in the old armory earlier," Elora said, her mood brightening slightly at the prospect of hitting something. "She said they were left over from the Edger family's better days. So you don't have to worry about practice weapons."
"Great," Eon said, waving her toward the door. "Then it's settled. Go train with Liam. Let me focus on my own training, please."
Elora grumbled a bit more, muttering something about how Eon was "bossy for a slave," but she finally turned and left the room. The silence that followed was a blessing.
Eon closed his eyes and summoned the blue screen.
-SKILL-
CraftingLv: 1
Item Search: [ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ]
Item Registered: Razor
[Description: A high-level crafting skill that allows for the instantaneous creation of objects through the atomic restructuring of raw materials.]
Eon stared at the "Item Search" bar. It was a feature he hadn't fully explored in the forge room. It seemed that the skill didn't just allow him to make things he already knew how to build; it acted as a database. It was as if the System was connected to his memories of Earth, or perhaps a universal library of blueprints.
He thought about the industrial forge he once talked about. In order to create weapons faster and with effiecently they cant just sharpen the blades by hand everytime. They need modern rotating whetstone. The process of sharpening a dull sword by hand took hours of back-breaking labor with a whetstone.
'If we're going to be an army, we need to be efficient,' he thought.
He focused on the search bar and typed in: Blade Sharpener.
The screen flickered, and a list of results appeared. Most were simple stones or manual jigs, but one caught his eye. It was a Pedal-Operated Rotary Grindstone. On Earth, it was a common sight in old blacksmith shops, a large, circular stone mounted on a frame, connected by a leather belt to a foot pedal. It allowed the user to spin the stone at high speeds while keeping both hands free to hold the blade.
Eon clicked on the image.
Item Search: [Foot-Pedal Grindstone]
[Required Materials:]
High-density Sandstone or Emery stone (1 Large Block)Wrought Iron or Steel (For the frame and axle)Treated Leather or Heavy Cord (For the drive belt)Hardwood (For the base and pedal)
[Crafting cost: 500 Mana]
"Perfect," Eon whispered. "This is exactly what we need."
He stood up and grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. He tried to write down the materials, but his hand hesitated.
One of the strangest things about his reincarnation was the language. He could speak the common tongue of this world perfectly, it was as if his brain translated his thoughts automatically. He could even read the signs on the shops. But the writing? The script was a mess of swirling lines and strange symbols that looked nothing like the Korean or English he knew.
Furthermore, the language was full of cultural puns, references to gods he didn't know, and idioms that made no sense. When someone said, "The eagle flies over the frozen trout," they weren't talking about nature; they were saying the taxes were too high. It was exhausting.
He asked Teressa to write down the list of general materials for him, pretending he was too busy to do it himself. He pulled out that note now. It was written in a beautiful, flowing hand.
Eon tucked the note into his belt and headed out.
He made his way back to the forge. The area was much cleaner than it had been an hour ago. The smell of soot was fading, replaced by the scent of pine-oil cleaner. Inside, he found Liam and Kaelen, a tall, thin elf with nimble fingers, working alongside Carla. They were hauling broken crates out of the back room.
"Eon!" Kaelen said, wiping sweat from his brow. "We're still cleaning. The forge isn't ready for work yet."
"I'm not here to work the forge," Eon said. "I'm here to see what we have in stock. Carla, Kaelen, can you look at this note? I need these items."
He handed them the note Teressa had written. Carla took it, her eyes scanning the elegant script.
"Sandstone?" she asked, tilting her head. "We have some in the garden shed, left over from the masonry repairs. And we have plenty of scrap iron from the broken gates. But we don't have any treated leather belts, Master. The mercenaries took most of the good leather.
"I see," Eon said. "What about the wood?"
"Liam can find the hardwood in the cellar," Kaelen offered. "But the stone… the sandstone we have is too soft for a grindstone. It will crumble, i think."
Eon nodded. He needed better materials. He remembered Meron, the human merchant he had welcomed into the mansion, but didn't manage to make meet him after that. Meron had been staying in the guest quarters near the barracks, terrified of the soldiers, but yet staying remembering Eon's promise.
"I'll go find Meron," Eon said. "He might know where to get the right stone and the leather."
He left the forge and walked toward the guest wing. He found Meron sitting on a small cot, nervously polishing a set of brass buttons. The man jumped nearly a foot into the air when Eon entered.
"Lord Eon!" Meron squeaked, bowing so low his forehead almost hit his knees. "How can I serve you? I have no gold, but I have my life!"
"Yeah, yeah. Not funny. Just Relax" Eon said. "Those soldiers won't kill anyone. As for why I came to you is, I want your expertise. I need specific materials, emery stone and quality leather. Do you have anything like that in your shop in town?"
Meron's eyes lit up. Talking about trade was the only thing that made the man feel safe. "Emery stone? Yes! I have three blocks of fine-grain emery in my back room. I was going to sell them to the jeweler in Count Hyra's estate. And I have a roll of ox-hide that's been cured for three years. It's as tough as dragon scale!"
'What the fuckkk. Did I just heard dragons exist too. Opps, Never mind', Eon screamed in his mind.
"Good," Eon said. "Let's go. We're going to your shop."
"Now?" Meron asked, glancing nervously toward the window where the Denares soldiers were patrolling. "The soldiers... they might..."
"Oh, just as I said, They won't touch you while you're with me," Eon assured him.
The two of them left the mansion grounds. The air was crisp and cold, typical of the North. The small village that sat at the foot of the Edger estate was quiet. Many of the houses were boarded up, their owners having fled when the mercenaries arrived.
They reached Meron's shop, a small, crapy building as always with a sign that depicted a balanced scale. Meron unlocked the heavy iron padlock with trembling hands and ushered Eon inside.
The shop smelled of dust, old paper, and dried herbs. Just leaving empty for one day made dust settle down so much, it looked like a old abandoned place.
"Here, grab that," Meron said, pointing to a heavy wooden crate.
Eon walked over and looked inside. The emery stone was perfect, a dark, gritty grey that felt incredibly dense. He reached out and touched it, feeling the mana-conductivity of the minerals within.
"This is it, I guess," Eon said.
He then turned to the roll of leather. It was thick, dark brown, and smelled strongly of tannins. It was exactly what he needed for a drive belt that wouldn't snap under tension.
"How much?" Eon asked.
Meron waved his hands frantically. "Just take it. Consider this a gift to the Edger House. If the county survives, my business survives. That is profit enough for me!"
Eon looked at the merchant. He saw the logic in the man's eyes. Meron wasn't just being generous; he was investing. He knew that Eon was the only thing standing between him and a ruined county estate.
"Fine," Eon said. "But when the potions are ready, you'll be the first one I talk to about a local distribution deal."
Meron's face transformed. A huge, toothy grin broke across his face. "Lord Eon, you are a true businessman! I will have these moved to the mansion immediately!"
"No need," Eon said.
He walked over to the stone and the leather. He raised his hand at the large stone.
Instantly the large stone got sucked into his inventory. To meron it looked like the stone just vanished.
"Let's go back at the mansion, Meron," Eon said, walking toward the door.
He left the merchant standing in the middle of his shop, his mouth hanging open, staring at the empty space where his inventory used to be.
As Eon walked back toward the Edger mansion, he felt a surge of excitement. He had the stone, the leather, and the iron was waiting at the forge. He was about to create the first piece of industrial machinery this world had ever seen.
It wasn't a sword. It wasn't a spell. It was a tool that would make every sword better.
'One step at a time,' Eon thought, looking up at the white stone walls of the old shops of the market. 'First the grindstone. Then the potions. Then, slowly we show the North what Elves can really do.'
Author note: He who sweats in peace bleeds less in war.