The day was bright and shining, and the Nouvallium sun smiled upon the buildings and people of Ichorow, the city of many things, for it was the beating heart of Nouvalla. Be it trade for the freshest of produce, or the newest trends in clothing. Equipment for the brave and cautious, or even new developments in magical knowledge. Anything can be found here if one just look hard enough.

As the undisputed capital of the worlds, the architecture reflects the many races that reside here. From the sturdy and stone-carved homes of the hill dwarfs to the artificial lakes where the lizardfolk constructed their wooden abodes just a few hands’ lengths atop the water. Almost all the races that live in the worlds have a district dedicated to them. Of course, some are smaller or larger depending on the race’s influence.

In the center of the city, where no single race held power, a single road went from one end of the massive city to the other. This road is the prime real estate for any businessman or woman. One particular type of customer frequents this street, Adventurers. From all over the worlds, they walked down this street looking for armor, weapons, and trinkets that would aid in their survival, able to spend as much gold as a regular could make in a whole year like it was nothing.

This was why it was hard for a particular dragoon in a cafe to find a place for his new shop. He had the coins from his current occupation, but in order to insure he had a spot, he had to have a team. More specifically, a business partner to take up more than one slot in the picking pool, but he can’t just have any old artisan be his partner; the person in question has to be the best.

These thoughts were going through the dragoon’s head as he sat in a well-furnished cafe on the same street he was scheming over. His name is Azura. Tall by human standards, slim and fit if one’s generous, even muscular, and with a set of small horns on his scaled head. His draconic was also slim and pointed. He was a dragoon, a race of scaled folks, essentially humanoid dragons. The cafe in question was called the Teller’s Cafe. Ran by the Renowned Teller’s family for its tea and refined atmosphere. The sound of a soothing harp sounded from one corner of the room. The elvish musician strung her harp while the sound of a waterfall emanated from the instrument.

Azura sighed, enjoying the aroma of tea before savoring it. The Teller’s famed pearl flower tea is a classic recipe. Swirling the white petals around in his cup, the Tellers, a lizardfolk family. Azura usually wouldn’t spend time in a lizardfolk establishment due to his species' one-sided animosity. Nonetheless, the Teller’s establishment was quite the place to wait about for the trial.

Azura was one of the talented few who gets to participate in the Artisan Trial without a trial token. Navorus or the system, as some called them created the Artisan Trial to test and challenge an artisan in their craft, by allowing them the chance to make something truly worthy of their class.

Azura was an [Wind Weaver], an evolved version of the weaver class. As the name suggests, he weaves fabrics with only the help of the wind through his mana. Of course, he had other classes, but weaving was his true calling.

A glance outside the window told him that it was half past noon. He still had plenty of time left in the day, as he would not expect the trial to be set right after midday. Azura suspected that the trial would be in the afternoon, but by then, he would be done with his shopping and have some extra provisions that would last him through a lengthy crafting session.

Taking another of the wonderfully stacked pancakes with his and was about to put the fluffy and delicious pancake in his jaw when he suddenly felt the familiar turning in his stomach that indicated teleportation. Followed by the sensation of the chair leaving before gravity took hold and pulled him to the ground.

Letters of Golden Fire pulsed into his vision, accompanied by a genderless voice that read the words.

Welcome Ascenders to the fourth Artisan Trial since the worlds’ creation.

Azura was still holding onto the fork with the fluffy pancakes on it, and it managed to stay on his fork during the teleportation. He chomps them down before anything else bad could happen to them. Azura pushed himself up from the hard marble floor, and, setting aside his fork into his storage ring for now, he took in his surroundings. He was in a vast room, and expansive was putting it mildly, cubic in nature.

The walls and ceiling were composed of white marble with blotches of black specked in them. The room was empty of objects or anything of note except for other artisans. Among the many common artisans like smiths and enchanters, were the fellow practitioners of the cloth, denoted by their extravagant dress and suits, which Azura was not the exception of.

But one of them caught his eye, a dwarf, four and a half feet tall, with a mane of golden hair covering his entire face. He casually approaches the dwarf at a sedated pace. The dwarf noticed him, already having a sour expression on his face.

Azura put on his best smile, “Hey Dwarf.”

The dwarf in question scowled and, with a hint of hostility, replied, “Dragoon. What do you want?”

He was a blacksmith; his build was stocky and tough like most fit dwarfs, but he wore only simple, worn-looking trousers and a plain short-sleeved tunic that showed off a set of impressive arms that would’ve put any warrior to shame. However, all of that was a backdrop to the incredible golden mane the dwarf possesses.

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On another note, since only about two hundred participants could have entered the trial. Azura would bet a whole gold piece that he was one of the top fifty smiths in Dwarvethal, the world where they originated.

“I have a proposition for you,” Azura said while clasping his claws together.

Azura has been looking to set up shop, but due to a lack of similarly talented individuals, he has held off until now. The trial of the system was a great place to scout for talent.

“Oh? If you want a masterwork, schedule an appointment.”

“Sorry, I am afraid you're confused. I do not desire a masterwork from you.”

“Eh?” The dwarf frowns in confusion.

“A partnership. Seeing as you have no business partners.” Azura’s smile widened; he had noticed that this dwarf came alone just like him.

While it was not uncommon for lone experts to operate alone, but artisans often work with other to improve their crafts and cut on cost. A perfect complement to an armor smith was a tailor who could fill the armor with damping cloth or an enchanter who could enchant the armor with more intricate enchantments.

“Why would you think I have no partners?”

“Just an educated guess. You came alone; that either means your partners are less talented than you or that you work alone.”

Clearly annoyed at being pestered immediately after arrival. But before the dwarf could dismiss it, Azura cut in.

“You don’t have to decide now. Give it some thought. We can discuss more after the trial.”

With that, he walked away from the dwarf and began to explore the mostly empty space. He just hoped the dwarf would give him a chance. He grimaced; through all his rush of procuring a talent, he completely forgot to introduce himself.

Suddenly, a flash of light from what Azura was the center of the room causes him to look in its direction. There, he sees a figure completely composed of light standing. No, floating in the air. The head and body of the being look vaguely human-like, judging from the lack of any discernible features.

It spoke, drawing the attention of the artisans who didn’t notice the flash of light.

Artisans, be it old masters or young talents, you are here today, either by favor of the system or through acquiring a token of entry. Here stands before you a messenger of Navorus, here to oversee your trials.

The messenger waved their hand, and a token of mythril with a stylized depiction of a needle carved into it appeared in Azura's vision. Instinctively, he snatched it out of the air. Looking around to make sure no one would snatch his coin, the artisans around him were too preoccupied with their own token to take notice.

"This token contains a space within which you would be provided all that you would need to make an artifact of immense quality. You would have a time limit of one day. However, within the space, one would have approximately a hundred years of time. Completion of the artifact allows you to leave the space, and failure to do so would cause the token to expel out of the space."

A clamor of questions soon rose after the explanation, but their inquires were ignored as the being merely waited. Given the lack of any response, most of the artisans waited around for more direction while some discussed among themselves deciding their course of action, and some even entered the token.

Azura decided to wait a while instead of diving head-first into what could possibly be a death trap. The system would not kill their talented stars that easily, or so he hoped, but it never hurt to be cautious. As he waited, he saw that many of the older dwarven, for that matter, elven craftsmen had already entered into the token.

He guessed that this wasn't their first time doing this, so that comforted him enough to start pouring mana into the token. However, a sudden thought made Azura hesitate. What quality does the system have for an artifact? Does a bolt of cloth, even if masterfully made, be considered an artifact? He had some experience making outfits out of cloth, but those creations can’t really be called a high grade, let alone the masterwork grade that Navorus expects of. Though it was too late, he felt a familiar tugging sensation as he desperately tried to pull the mana back, but his action was futile as he was transported into the spatial dimension.

***

The transition to the pocket dimension was smoother than most teleportation that he had experienced in the past. Azura was in a living room not unlike one in a well-decorated inn; it had a bed, furniture, and even some plants on some tables. There were two pathways leading into the main living room. Cautiously entering the first, he found it was a spacious work room that housed looms and a few chairs, as well as a strange rune-covered table with a plane of iridescent crystal as its surface.

Going to the other room it was a bathroom with a magical toilet, sink, and a bath that was full of hot water. The floor of the bathroom was composed of a water-absorbing stone. The wall and ceiling were likewise made of similarly magically imbued wood. All in all, it was pretty luxurious.

Coming back to the workroom, Azura inspected the strange table. Runes cover most of the table, say, for the crystal plane. He could recognize the runes but not their order or purpose. The table also includes some symbols that he does not recognize. Since he coulden’t figure out the runes, excitedly, he pulled out his trusty notebook and copied the runes instead. However, every time he tried to copy the unfamiliar symbols, it evaporated.

Defeated, he copied the rest of the standard symbols, which only made up about one-third of the runework. Putting away his notebook, Azura had thought that he might have been able to discover new runework from the system, but in the end, his plans were foiled by Navorus. Instead, he put his claws on the table, and right as he did that, three spools of thread appeared on the table. Interestingly, these spools were the same threads he needed for his work. It was disconcerting that Navorus could make an artifact of creating items out of thin air and reading his desires, but at the same time, it was Navorus, the same one that created his world.

Putting aside his rampant musings, he inspected the spools of thread for any defects. Expectedly, there wasn’t any. The threads in question were a spool of adamantine of the exotic variety. Adamantine is typically a very durable metal that can withstand most of anything and has a dark green color. While the exotic variant is slightly less durable and, in its raw form, was string-like in nature, it is also cyan in color.

The next two spools were simpler in nature but no less expansive. One was threads of silk from a silkworm of the magical variety, although Azura was not sure which one. The other one was gold threads, which were hard to make and harder to buy. Azura tried putting the threads into his storage ring but, as expected, could not do so. Azura decided to see if he was just limited to these items. He went back to the table and lay his claw on it again. This time, more threads appeared, including some liquid dyes.

Doing this a few more times, he got a bundle of items. He exited the workroom, which he would probably never use aside from the occasional restocking of materials. Dumping his hoard of riches on the bed, Azura cleared a space for his work. As a [Wind Weaver], he had no need for a loom to make fabric from threads. The class required quite a lot of control over wind, which itself can only be easily commanded by suffusing his mana into his surroundings.

His plan for his artifact starts with a three-layer piece of fabric, which he will later fashion into a robe and embroider with runes and patterns. The first and third part of the plane was the easiest as he is a master weaver, but fashioning into a robe, even if the enchantment, later on, could change its form, is going to be tricky, as the system will likely consider a clawcrafted item to be of higher quality than something shaped by an enchantment.

Thus, the trial began.