Side Chapter: The New Artificer’s Daily Life

Author Note:

This happens somewhere before chapter 97

Inside a dimly lit blacksmith workshop, the rhythmic clang of hammer against anvil filled the air as a girl with long, dark brown hair cascading down her back, diligently worked at her craft. With her brown quartz eyes narrowed in concentration, she meticulously shaped small molten metal into a beautiful sun-shaped ornament.

At this moment, she was not wearing her reddish-brown suit but a thin camisole-like undershirt covered with a heavy leather apron, fire-resistant gloves, and a scarf to keep her hair away and ease her movements. Because of the sweltering heat emanating from the forge, beads of sweat were trickling down her form. It was like she was inside a sauna.

Despite that, her focus remained steady. With each strike of her hammer, she imbued mana into the ornament with precision. After all, she was trying to craft a magic tool at the behest of her patron, and it demanded nothing less than the highest level of her skill and prowess, magical or whatnot.

Of course, the girl was Eleanor — the Artificer who recently joined the Sanctum of Interdimensional Magi. A peculiar name for an academy according to her.

After a series of precise strikes, Eleanor paused, wiping the sweat from her brow with a sigh. “Phew. Patron certainly knows how to keep me busy…”

Every day brought a slew of requests for various tools, and as the sole Artificer in the academy, Eleanor found herself tackling them alone. However, that didn’t mean that she was entirely without assistance.

The acolytes of this academy were a bunch of odd and eccentric individuals. They would always gladly to lend a hand whenever she reached out to them via the Shadowlink Mark on her wrist by giving them missions. While there were limitations to the rewards and tasks she could assign, they would do their best to curry favor to her. Even an outgoing, happy-go-lucky person like her would notice their sycophantic behavior.

Almost all their intention of coming here was to purchase tools or request personal weapons or amor, but more often than not, they would visit her workshop just to look after her and bring her food. Though not to the point of bothering her, she felt that this kind of friendly conduct gave her a bit of unease. Even more baffling were the strange terms they used in conversation.

Players? Official forum?

These terms were all foreign to her, leaving her to wonder about the origins of these eccentric individuals and the place they hailed from. It couldn’t really be another world, right?

Whatever.

She found herself genuinely happy that the acolytes had accepted her so quickly. Their friendly manners also fit her own personality well, and she seemed to be popular among them?

“Hehe. Maybe I should make a few of them my apprentices,” she mumbled to herself.

Their quick acceptance of her was one of the main motivations driving Eleanor to work tirelessly in support of the academy and its acolytes. Of course, this didn’t mean that was doing all this without getting any sort of payment. Although she already felt that the mana crystals reward were already generous enough, Victor provide her with another thing: For every item that she crafted and sold, she would be given a reward in the currency that this place used called “merit points.”

This was the exact type of reward that she provided the player with. Victor had given her one thousand merit points per month that she could use for this exact purpose, while the rest could be traded with the academy for resources.

Honestly, she found this kind of currency to be a bit weird. Nevertheless, what she truly wanted as a reward for this pair of magical tools was…

“A thirty-minute session of hugging little Lizzy! Hehe. Hehehe.” As she thought about it, her saliva flowed uncontrollably.

There was something about cute, little creatures that stirred a deep affection within her. Maybe it had something to do with her past, but she never really knew. After all, a lot of memories about when she was a kid were sealed deep inside her, along with the Faulkner heritage.

Once she had achieved a certain level of proficiency as an Artificer and in her meditation progress, new memories would be unlocked. Or, if she failed to do so, she would pass it to her descendants. But obviously, she had no intention of giving up and living a hiding and mediocre life just like her parents and grandparents.

With that determination in mind, she returned to hammering, putting her all into completing her current assignment. She had an almost complete confidence that the path she had chosen would bring her to her goal and revived the Faulkner’s name.

“Victor, don’t disappoint me.”