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Chapter 8 - Invention and Sorrow

Around the first century of the age of darkness, Pumil seemed to pour out invention after invention that would change the face of war. However, there was one that stood out, whose existence it would take Placeholder decades to wrap its head around.

Crossbows.

Before their invention, ranged attacks were solely in the realm of mages or those who dedicated the necessary years to a solid enough mastery of [Bowmanship].

The new wind-up version of the bow changed that. Locking the projectile onto a single track greatly reduced the complexity of taking a shot, and the lack of a relevant skill meant that someone given a few weeks of training could deal damage on par with a normal archer.

Not quite as much as a veteran who had other related skills of course.

But that wasn’t the end of the changes. No, perhaps the greatest part of the crossbow was that they could be stored in the inventory loaded. Instead of immediate damage, it was damage stored for later, ready to be unleashed on an unsuspecting foe.

The changed war tactics would take an entire book to go over, but the draw was obvious for adventurers.

Crossbows are ranged burst damage that could be unleashed when your party encounters an unexpected alpha. They’re a ranged option that everyone could use when you have the terrain to your advantage. And finally, there is no limitation that you only bring along one.

Personally, during my adventuring career, I liked to keep 5 of them loaded and ready, just in case.

* On Crossbows by Gerardo Lloyd, lead of the adventuring party Steady Hands

--------

It’s going so slowly now. I grumbled to myself. My [Weaponsmith] levels had gone up astronomically fast but were now stuck. I sat at my desk and tapped a pen on paper, trying to get inspiration. Maybe I should invent firearms anyway. I bet that it would count pistols, rifles, and shotguns as three separate things.

I frowned. But if they end up anything like Jeremiah’s gun, that would mean that I would be unleashing a whole bunch of damage type X weapons on the world. I looked up at the ceiling. I don’t think that level 9 in [Weaponsmith] is worth giving up practical invulnerability while wearing my armor. Besides, to make firearms, I would have to remember how to make gunpowder, and I don’t even know if I remember-

I heard the distinctive bell of my shop’s front door opening, and I looked at my office door with a quizzical look.

“We’re closed!” I bellowed as I tried to get back to my thoughts.

Unfortunately, I didn’t hear the bell again, which meant the intruder was still in there, and an intruder they were since I was about 95% certain I had left the door locked.

Is it even worth confronting the thief? I asked myself. On the one hand, I didn’t like people stealing my stuff. On the other, I was already drawing more attention to myself than I was comfortable with, given that crossbows had taken off.

However, which was more likely to draw attention? Me beating the stuffing out of a thief or reporting things to the dwarven equivalent of the watch?

Fine. I’ll go deal with the thief. I grumbled as I stood up to do just that… and then promptly hit my head on the door.

I was still wearing my armor underneath my [Disguise Self], so it didn’t deal any damage. However, it still irritated me.

“Stupid dwarven doors,” I grumbled as I made my way to the front of the shop. “Wouldn’t even fit me if I was actually 5 foot.”

“Yes! Yes!” I heard a voice from the other room.

Without another thought, I dropped into [Sneak] to see if I could get a better look at my unwanted guest.

“It’s perfect! How ever did he come up with such a novel idea?”

I came out into my shop where the weapons were all on display. Standing in front of one of my weapon racks, holding a crossbow, was a somewhat thin dwarf with shocks of white hair sticking up randomly from the rest of his greying head.

I recoiled slightly as he brought his goggled face up to the bow and sniffed it.

Maybe… not a thief? I asked myself as I watched in a mixture of curiosity and horror.

The horror quickly won out as he stuck out his tongue and brought the crossbow closer to it.

Without consciously processing it, I [Flash Stepped] over to him and snatched the weapon from his hands.

“No licking my stuff,” I growled.

“Ah!” he exclaimed with a smile across his soot-covered face. “You must be the owner of this coincidence establishment!” He stuck out his hand.

Coincidence establishment? I asked myself internally as I shook his hand, more out of reflex than any conscious thought.

“I’m Varnak Blastfizzle,” he said as he released my hand.

“Nindrol Silverleaf,” I replied. I didn’t have to give the man my name, but I had to admit, he was zany enough that I found myself curious.

“What kind of thundering name is Silverleaf?”

“It comes from my mom’s side,” I countered. “What kind of name is Blastfizzle?”

He grinned. “Well, that was from my early experiments. It seemed that they either went blast, or they went fizzle. So why not name myself something as wooden as that?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Wooden?”

He slapped a hand to his forehead. “Ah, excuse me. Sometimes I get ahead of myself when I’m talking, and out comes the wrong advertising.”

I just gave him a look.

“Word. Word!” Varnak said exasperatedly. “I meant word.” He shook his head. “Anyway, not why I’m here. I heard there was a new inventor in town, and I wanted to take a looksee at your homework and see if I found any inspiration.”

“And that meant you needed to lick my crossbows?” I asked.

“Yes!” he said with his eyes wide behind his goggles. “They were a thing of beauty! A marvelous invention! I needed to see them, to touch them, to taste them, to consult them!”

I think I need to deal with this before I learn the hard way what actually comes after tasting them.

I put my hand on the dwarf’s shoulder and used [Wordless Cast] to cast [Restore].

The slightly manic look in his eyes faded for a second, and he frowned. Then with a quick shake of his head, it was back.

“I promise I won’t be a ladder! Just let me take a quick looksee. A little peep at all your weapons!”

I guess that wouldn’t be too much to ask to get rid of-

“And then maybe a taste here or there to-“

I spun him around and marched Varnak to the door. “Nope, nope, nope. Out. Get out of here right now!”

“I can pay well!” he shouted as he futilely struggled. “I’ll pay you convincingly for every weapon I sample!”

“I don’t care about money. I care about being left alone,” I grumbled. He opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but I cut him off. “And about people not licking my weapons.”

“If it isn’t money, maybe I can offer something else!” he pleaded as I shoved him out the door. I slammed the door shut, but he quickly interposed his foot. “Do you want to work with adamantium instead of steel? I can share a tongue of my supply!”

As I made a face of disgust, he caught himself.

“A portion! A portion of my adamantium!” he corrected. “All aspiring smiths want to work with it, don’t they?”

My eyes narrowed. “And you have access to a steady supply of adamantium?”

“Yes! Of course, I do!” he nodded fervently. “Everyone thought I was crazy, but then the [King] came to me anyway. Give us a weapon to upset demons, he says. You already have swords and bows and arrows, I says. Not a single demon, an entire army, he cranberries. What if we threw really big rocks at them, I ask.”

Wait.. is he referring to-

He took my moment’s hesitation to push himself back in the door.

“And now I incorporate for the [King]!” he stated. “So, even though all the adamantium goes to the crown, I get a supply ever since I invented the stone thrower.”

“That was you?” I asked. “You invented the stone thrower that was used against my- against the demon army?”

He nodded emphatically.

I had a choice to make. Even without using a truth stone, the dwarf in front of me certainly seemed to believe that he had made it… but there was still a very good chance that he was just crazy.

I decided to sacrifice a couple hundred gold to just get him off my back.

“Here,” I said as I pulled the crossbow back out of my inventory and shoved it into his chest. “You want an idea? Take that, scale it way up, and then put it on a platform of some kind. There you go. Another siege weapon. Now, don’t come back unless you’re bringing me adamantium.”

He gasped in shock as I now successfully pushed him out the door.

“It’s perfect!” he shouted. “The stone throwers deal bludgeoning damage, but with this, I can-“

I didn’t hear the rest beyond the slammed door.

Good riddance. Now, back to work. I thought as I trudged back to my office. What else can I make to get more stacks of the achievement? I don’t want to make firearms, but maybe…

My eyes widened. “The ballista. Carp.”

I rushed out of my shop and frantically looked for the possible lunatic who I had just told about the weapon I had just decided to make.

There was no sign of him.

It’s… fine. I reassured myself. First, he’s probably just a crazy guy. Second, there’s no guarantee that he can build it. And third, there’s no guarantee that siege weapons count as actual weapons for [Weaponsmith].

Even after all those reassurances, I didn’t feel much better about it.

“I better get started on that,” I muttered.

-------

“Come on,” I grunted as I tried to move the arm of my ballista, or at least what would hopefully become my ballista, into position.

It’s safe to say that making a ballista was not as simple as taking a crossbow and making it bigger. Or maybe it was the case that just making something larger was more complex than I thought.

Either way, my struggle soon ended… as the arm snapped back and clanged into my armor.

“Ow,” I stated as I looked at the piece of wood that had managed to damage me through the 2nd best armor in the world. “Good thing I’m not just a [Weaponsmith],” I muttered. “That would have killed me.”

“Norbert!” came a familiar voice… inside my shop, which was most definitely locked.

I growled under my breath as I stalked into my shop.

“I thought I told you not to come back here without adamanti-“ I trailed off as I saw a dwarf with a barrel on his shoulder right behind him.

“I have it right here!” he replied with a wide grin. “Just tell the obligation where you want it!”

“In my workshop in the back,” I replied, gesturing behind me. “But first…” I stopped the worker and opened up the barrel’s inventory. It looked like adamantium. The System said it was adamantium, but that didn’t rule out fool’s adamantium.

I pulled some out and studied it. It didn’t feel as pliable as fool’s adamantium, but I had one last thing I could do to check.

[Appraise]. I cast silently. When that said that it was adamantium, I finally gave a nod. The worker grunted as he trundled past me, and Varnak rubbed his hands together in glee.

“Your idea was incredible!” he stated. “Piercing instead of bludgeoning! But even better than that, the bolt thrower can have arguments that are enchanted! The uses are innumerable! I owe you a great deal for-“

He trailed off as we entered my workshop… where I had prototype ballista parts scattered all about.

He spun to look at me and glared me in the eye… or at least, I assume that was what he was going for since my disguise was almost a foot shorter than me.

I only gave him a nervous shrug.

“You idiotic, harebrained, nincompoop!” he shouted.

I didn’t have to take that abuse… but Nordrin probably would. I simply grimaced and nodded as he laid into me.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to birth siege weapons without the proper machinery or assistants!” he continued.

I cocked my head and frowned.

“Wait… you’re not mad that I tried to take your invention?” I asked.

He scoffed. “Of course not! Invention is the most cutthroat business in the acreage! Any time I get an invention out without having to beat [Spies] off with a stick is a good day!” He shook a finger at me. “No, what ground my gears was that you would do something so foolhardy and dangerous all by yourself! You could have died if one of those arms snapped back on you!”

Well, not really. I chuckled as he went off on a lecture about workplace safety and care around heavy machines. I half-tuned him out as I continued thinking. And, you know, you have to be the most safety-conscious mad scientist I have ever known.

“-and above it all, you could have just come to work at my workshop if you wanted to make the bolt thrower yourself!” he finished.

I blinked at him in confusion.

“What?” I asked. “Did you just offer me a job?”

“Yes!” he nodded.

I raised an eyebrow. “But… aren’t we competitors since we’re both trying to invent weapons?” I asked.

He gave me an appraising look. Then, with a quick glance back and forth he leaned in toward me.

“You wouldn’t happen to also be a [Mad Inventor], would you?” he asked.

“Uhh, no,” I replied. “I wanted to invent weapons for the extra [Weaponsmith] experience.”

“Ah,” he nodded sagely. “Wouldn’ta helped you then. Siege weapons don’t give that achievement.”

Drat. There goes that…

“Wait, how do you know it’s an achievement?” I asked.

“Well, it was the funniest thing!” he replied. “I was working and working and working, and I idly wished that there were three of me. Then, as I thought of that, I wondered how someone would fight three people at once! And it came to me! A simple spear…times 3!” He beamed.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“Wait… you invented the-“ I paused. I didn’t know the word for it in dwarvish, and I didn’t want to risk saying it in English.

“The trident!” he replied with a mad grin.

Really glad translation catches that… I’m pretty sure he named it something silly like the three prong or something. Then I paused. Wait… Tri is three… dent is… like dentures? Teeth? Oh god, do we have it named the three teeth back on Earth?

He kept going while I had my existential crisis that everything I ever knew was just named by someone with Varnak’s naming sense, but in Latin.

I finally returned to attention when he finished with a forlorn look.

“I never did solve the problem of getting your enemies close enough together to stab all of them at once, though,” he sighed.

“Need me for anything else, Mr. Blastfizzle,” his worker asked.

“No, great work! Go ahead and head on back to the shop!” he said.

Then, Varnak turned to me while rubbing his hands.

“Now, I know you may not want to work under me, and there is no pressure to do so! But, I’d be more than willing to trade for any more of those ideas you have rattling around in that head of yours,” he said with a grin.

I debated turning him down. The adamantium he had provided would last me for a couple swords at least, and I wasn’t sure how the whole “employment” thing would work out.

Then, I realized I had a problem.

“Do you have a furnace capable of handling adamantium that I could use?” I asked.

He smirked. “I happen to have one, but only my workers are allowed to use it.”

“And if I want to take that job after all?” I asked.

“Well, I’m not sure I have any openings left,” he stated as he pulled out a piece of paper… that had nothing on it.

He also licked it. I decided to ignore that.

“And if I give you another idea for a siege weapon?” I asked.

“Welcome aboard!” he shouted as he thrust out his hand.

And just like that, I was under the employ of [Mad Inventor] Varnak Blastfizzle… and I would need that adamantium back at his workshop instead.

“Let me tell you a grand idea about a new version of the stone thrower. This one uses levers and gravity-“ I started as we walked to his workshop; his grumbling worker moving the barrel back to the cart.

-------

As promised, I was given a place in Varnak’s workshop. Even better than that, the hours were actually reasonable.

He may have actually been one of the first to do 8 hour workdays… which was really good for a world that didn’t have labor laws yet.

That meant I had 8 hours a day to help him out with his stuff and then 16 hours a day to do my own thing. Though, I had to be careful because the one time he caught me in the workshop overnight, he gave me a thorough scolding about getting enough rest.

I probably could have stayed there 24/7, at least for the first few weeks, because it wasn’t just a siege weapon shop like I thought. People were tinkering with all sorts of different things there.

Spells, enchantments, alchemy, weapons (though he was far less successful in that department), and even more mundane things like farm tools.

The biggest one for me at that point was the general-purpose weapon runes that had been discovered. The most widely useful was Sharpness, which worked for most piercing and slashing weapons, but there was also one for bludgeoning weapons called Impact.

Why was that important for me? Well, the better I made my swords, the closer I would get to level 9 in [Weaponsmith]… and I also belatedly realized that I needed one more level in [Enchanter] as well if I wanted my masterwork sword to be top of the line.

So, I used Varnak’s facilities and pumped out adamantium swords with a sharpness enchantment on them… well, kinda. There were some caveats with that.

First, “pumped out” would imply some kind of ready supply of adamantium. There was not. However, I did get a decent portion of Varnak’s steady but slow stream, so the employment part was definitely worth it.

Second, Adamantium didn’t exactly take well to the enchantments. I worked around that by enchanting them anyway, but instead of making a stable, constant enchant, I made one that they would have to recharge. That meant their users would have to spend a bit of their mana to keep the extra damage active, but most people swinging around swords didn’t have a use for the mana anyway.

Third… well, there was no way in Placeholder that I would get away with showing off that I was a level 8 [Weaponsmith] and a level 8 [Enchanter], which my runes would give away. To that end, I informed Varnak that I had “a guy” who wanted to remain anonymous who did all of my enchanting.

That thrilled him when he saw how high-tier my runes were, and I became the go-between for the shop and… myself?

Anyway, to keep a long story short, I did a lot of enchanting on commission from their shop during those days, which meant that both classes made good, steady progress.

To get back to the swords, most of them turned out really well and were classified as “greater” tier. The few that turned out as “major”… well… we don’t talk about those.

There was also a hint of irony in what I was doing. With the damage types on those swords, I was making some of the only weapons in Placeholder that could hurt me in my full armor.

From there, I ensured that half of them were “not good enough to sell” or “broken.”

… And I also kept a few as backup weapons for my eventual masterpiece.

The funny thing was that I didn’t even get in trouble for that. I had to swear on truth stone that I wasn’t swiping the pieces to sell (which I easily passed. I wasn’t planning on selling them), and the few swords that I sold made up for the material costs of the rest. That was a bit of a shock at first… but it wasn’t too surprising when I remembered that I bought Singularity for one million gold. Those swords definitely weren’t Singularity quality, but I was willing to bet they were worth 100,000 gold or more.

As I continued creating excellent weapons, I realized that my time there would be coming to an end eventually.

I also realized I would rather it not be to another [Hero] ambush during the middle of my business day. I tuned up my [Scry] expecting to see the worst but instead found out I had an unexpected ally.

-----

“What do you mean, no entry?” the [Hero] railed against the [Guards] in front of Pumil’s gates. “I have it confirmed by skill and spell that the [Demon Lord] is in your territory! I need to go in and defeat him!”

“Yeah, yeah,” the [Guard] mumbled. “You and the other 27 ‘[Heroes]’ who have been this way.”

Shalia made a familiar flicking gesture with her hands and shared her status, but the [Guard] still seemed unimpressed.

“Oh, this one actually got a [Forger]. You must really-“

“And did I also forge this?” she hissed as she pulled out the Hero’s Rapier.

The dwarf looked at it and sighed. “Look, lady. I get it. You want to go in real bad. But I got my orders. If I let any of you tallfolk in, knife ears or otherwise-“ he glanced at the rest of the party that I just now realized included some smattering of humans. “- it will be my head on the chopping block.”

Shalia bristled. “You would dare violate an international treaty?”

“Oh, which one?” the guard asked with the same bored tone.

“The [Demon Lord] Accords, of course!” she replied. “By section 2, you are to aid me with my quest to defeat the [Demon Lord], and according to section 4, you are currently breaking them by harboring the demon in question!”

“And your nation, dear elf, is currently in violation of section 3,” the dwarf replied in a monotone. “So much for no war while the [Demon Lord] is alive, eh? Though, it doesn’t end there. I bet they broke section 1 as well since I doubt they shipped you off to Faroff when the [Demon Lord] most recently appeared.”

“The provision that the [Hero] be sent to Faroff was made before it was known that the [Demon Lord] could spawn elsewhere!” Shalia protested.

“And just like your nation gets to ignore those articles of the [Demon Lord] Accords, so too does our nation get to ignore the treaty as well… should you even have proof that we are violating it.”

Shalia growled. Then she clenched her fist and took a deep breath.

“I will be back. With a [Governor] of Dryadal or the [King] of Gram if need be,” she stated. “When I do so, you better throw those gates open wide and grovel in front of me for your insolence, or there will be a reckoning, you demon-harboring scum.”

She spat in their direction, and the group marched off.

Meanwhile, I took all of that in from behind my scrying mirror.

Well, I guess that at least buys me some time. I thought. I was making excellent progress with my [Weaponsmithing]. I could tell. That meant it would soon be time to make my sword and move on to something else.

That something else was what was daunting.

My goal of taking down the OmnverseEngine felt like draining the ocean with a straw.

Even if I stayed and charged magicite crystals in my throne room for centuries, would that be enough? I asked. If a simple [[Message]] took about a million mana, what would it take to take down the entire System? Before that, how many billions of mana would it take just to get a feel for the System?

“Nonrin, something on your mind?” Varnak asked. “You seem musing today.”

I went with an old standby.

All of that can be future Titus’ problem. I thought.

I chuckled. “Oh, it’s nothing. You don’t happen to have billions of mana lying around unused, do you?” He took my question as rhetorical, but I could tell my mood was bringing down the rest of the shop.

“Well, Nownion,” he said, failing at using my name correctly as usual. “You’ve worked here long enough. We normally wait a bit longer, but I think it’s time I show you something.” He set down a pair of large pliers. “15-minute break, everyone!” he called out to the rest of the people working on his latest upgrades to the “bolt thrower.”

“Come, come!” he said as he shuffled off to a section of the workshop that he kept under lock and key.

I had been severely tempted to peek in there when no one was around, but I didn’t want to destroy the lock… and lockpicking was one skill I had never learned in my several centuries of existence.

“What is all this?” I asked as I took a look around.

“The stuff that’s too dangerous to show the public,” he grinned. “And this…” he said, rustling around in a drawer. “Is how I got my name.”

He pulled out a large mithril-coated ball. It was covered in runes, and I eyed them in confusion as he licked it and handed it to me.

“It looks… elemental,” I stated, pointedly not touching the wet spot. “But I can tell it’s not. Not Ignis, Frigis, Aeris, or Terris… and neither of the tier 2 schools.” I looked back up at him. “What does it do?”

He clapped his hands. “Put some mana in and find out!” Then he paused as I started to pour the mana in. “You do have more than 50 HP as a [Retired Adventurer], right?” he stated as he pulled a windowed shield from his inventory.

“What?” I asked in alarm as the ball blew up in my face.

And here I should note. This was not a fireball. If it were, I would have been immune to it.

This was an honest-to-goodness explosion.

I coughed and sputtered and then wiped the resulting soot off my face.

“Ow,” I muttered. Then, my science side took over. “Wait. How the frick is that elemental? An explosion isn’t an element! Explosions are…” I trailed off.

Wait. If I wanted to make an explosion with magic, what would I do? Terris for the outer shell of the explosive, Frigis to cool the internal portion before rapidly heating with Ignis and then increasing pressure with Aeris. I frowned. Terris plus Frigis plus Ignis plus Aeris equals explosion.

“Oh god, explosions are an element,” I said with a hand on my face.

“Are you feeling alright, Noploried?” he asked. “Any side effects?”

“Well, I’m feeling the sudden urge to quit,” I replied with a flat face.

His eyes shot open wide.

“No, no, no! Don’t! I’m sorry! It was just an experiment! No one else had the HP to do it safely and-“

I shook my head with a small laugh. I couldn’t stay mad at the crazy old dwarf.

“Well, what else do you got in here?” I asked.

His eyes lit up.

“I have just the thing to show! Enchantments for blocking spells like the giant fireballs that Gram uses-“ he started as he went on to show me many different prototypes… of varying degrees of usefulness.

-----

One time, during my first year in the workshop, I showed up one morning to find that the shop was closed… which was odd.

This place is never closed. I realized with a frown. Not even on holidays like Hero Day.

I was briefly at a loss, but fortunately, I spotted Varnak coming out of the other entrance.

I hurried over to him.

“Hey, the workshop’s locked. Is everything alright?” I asked.

“Oh, Nonotho,” he stated a bit flatly. “Sorry, no work today. Or any year on this day, for that matter. I have some business to attend to.”

“Oh,” I replied lamely. I could have used the day to enchant some more stuff… but I had already run out of the commissions they gave me. That left me with nothing to do, so I decided I might as well ask. “Anything I can help you with?”

He looked at me and then gave me a pained smile. “No… and if it were anyone else, I would ask that you not come along.” He paused. “But you’re different, Nojitor. If you want to come with me on a difficult task, you are free to.”

I figured I was more than ready for anything that the dwarf could consider difficult… but I was less certain of that when we went to the first stop.

I think this is the first time I’ve ever been in a flower shop. I thought idly as the [Mad Inventor] looked through different bouquets… and I stopped him from licking one at the last second.

“You’re right. Shouldn’t. Thanks,” he said quietly.

Seeing him subdued was odd, but as we trudged along to the outskirts of the dwarven city, I started picking up some clues about what it was about.

They became more solid after we arrived at a rundown house, and he knocked on the door gently.

“Who is it?” came a nasty female voice from inside.

“Varnak Blastfizzle,” he stated.

The door swung open, and a white-haired dwarven woman glared daggers at him.

“Once again, I’m so sorry for-“ he started.

“Out!” she screamed. “Leave! Take your flowers, your pity, and your money! Take it all with you as you go to Hell, where you belong!” she stated as she slammed the door.

Varnak stood there stoically for a moment. Then he gently pulled a bouquet out of his inventory and snuck a 100-gold coin in it. He placed that on the porch, and we continued walking.

We remained quiet. I didn’t even ask where we were going.

We eventually arrived at a large golden wall with innumerable names carved into it.

Wait. Not gold. Paladium. I realized.

“What is this place?” I asked quietly.

Varnak shot me a look of surprise and then shook his head with a light chuckle. “I keep forgetting you were raised by an elf. This is the memorial to those who have lost their lives, keeping us all safe from the demons in the west.”

That was the only explanation that was given, so I hung back as he located a name on the wall and put his hand on it.

Varnak burst into tears. “Brostim,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry. I never should have let you work with me.”

He held his hand in place, and I could hear him gently whisper but couldn’t make out the words.

We remained there for several minutes, but he eventually turned to leave, and I followed him.

The silence felt more uncomfortable on the return trip, so I couldn’t help but break it.

“How does one of your workers end up on the memorial for the fight with demons?” I asked.

Varnak’s eyes hardened. “I had to fight tooth and nail for that. He may not have been on the wall, but he died while trying to keep them safe. And I would rather turn over all my inventions than let his name die like that.”

That killed the conversation for several more minutes. I was the one to break it again. “And this Brostim… is he why you’re so conscious of safety?” I asked softly.

He looked at me and then sighed. “Sorry. I’m not good company today, but Brostim’s legacy deserves to be known.” He nodded to steel himself. “So, yes, he was one of my workers. Had an eye for metal and a head for physics.“ I could tell that word was just System working overtime to translate the dwarvish.

He started tearing up again but then chuckled dryly.

“Was from a poorer part of town. You saw his mother back there. Anyway, he had plenty of ideas for how to improve things. He was a natural. He felt like the son I never had… and then his life was cut short.” He sniffled.

“What happened?” I asked.

“He was working on a modification to the stone thrower. I gave him the go-ahead. The plans were sound, the materials were solid, and the safety…” he turned to a whisper. “Was non-existent.”

“Something went wrong with the process. A piece snapped back on him, and it oranged him.” Varnak immediately tried to correct himself. “It heard him. It snapped him.” He grew more and more frustrated. “It murdered him! I murdered him!” he finally shouted, his tears no longer stopping. “I was responsible for his safety, and I failed him! He’s dead! All because of me!”

I didn’t know what to say.

“I… I’m sorry,” I eventually got out.

Varnak chuckled slightly. “Well, now you know the not-so-secret reason the shop is closed today. It’s in remembrance of the young life lost due to me and a reminder to keep other blood from my hands.”

It probably wasn’t the time, but that reply just made me curious.

“Not to be rude or anything,” I started, which is how you knew it would be rude. “But… how can you sell weapons if you don’t want blood on your hands?”

He laughed a little at that.

“Fair question, fair question,” he replied. “First off, my weapons can help save lives from monsters like those demons in the west. So, in that case, I’m saving lives. Second…”

He trailed off and stopped walking. He had a far-off look in his eyes. “I’m looking for an answer to war. And I wonder if maybe that will come when the weapons are so powerful and destructive that war is not worth the cost anymore.”

I shook my head softly, but he couldn’t see it.

You still have a long ways to go to reach Earth’s levels. I thought sadly. And we still had plenty of war.

But I couldn’t tell him that. The inventor needed something to cheer him up, not depress him even further.

“Well, if you ever figure it out, I’ll be happy to help you build it,” I stated.

He turned to me and cracked the first genuine smile of the day.

“Thank you, Noqer. I knew I could count on you.”

We parted ways there and returned to work the next day like nothing had happened.

------

I spent more than a decade working with the crazy inventor.

With how many weapons I had made and with all of the enchanting I had done, I could feel that I was ready to hit level 9.

But I put it off. As long as I didn’t go to the obelisk and say upgrade, I wouldn’t know for sure.

And I didn’t want to leave. I was enjoying my time with the crazy dwarf and his surprisingly worker-friendly mad science.

But all things must come to an end.

----

Varnak was ecstatic. He had done it! He had created his magnum opus! The invention that would surpass all others! One that would shape the face of Placeholder for millenia!

And he knew just who to share it with.

He practically sprinted to get the boy.

“This must be something big if it’s got you this excited,” Nonderian said.

“It is! It is! And I want you to be the first to gander it, Nobnorian!” Varnak stated.

He thought he heard the boy mutter, “Still not my name,” but the [Mad Inventor] ignored that and pressed onward.

He brought him into the room and showed him the array of runes stretched across a large mithril sphere.

Noycerian narrowed his eyes as he examined it.

“That’s a really mana-heavy enchantment… and… I don’t think I quite have it parsed. What does it do?”

Varnak rubbed his hands. “Let’s put some mana in it, and I’ll drama you!”

He put his hand on the sphere and injected all of his mana… and it still wasn’t enough. He frowned and was about to reach for a mana potion when Notheror stopped him.

“Let me,” he stated, putting his hand on the sphere. He frowned after a moment. “Dang, that really is mana hungry. Maybe we should-“

And then the enchantment flicked on.

The sphere shone with a soft light.

“All of that for a light?” his apprentice asked.

“Not just a light… a light that will last forever!” Varnak beamed.

“I don’t… how?” he asked. “Light is an active effect, not passive! There has to be some sort of mana storage or recharge, or it will-“

“It all started back to that fool question you asked,” Varnak stated impatiently. “What was it… Do you have a billion mana to spare? No! A couple billion mana to spare! And that was what sparked my idea! One billion mana is an absurd amount. However, if you dedicated an entire lifetime to it and got every single Placeholder resident on board, you could surely get that amount! It would only take a thousand or two from every resident.”

Varnak held up his finger. “But, you said a couple. And I realized that method would be foolish! If someone had managed to go through the struggle of essentially harvesting the residents of Placeholder for 1 billion mana, they surely wouldn’t succeed for a second time! Everyone would riot! And that is when it hit me.” Varnak grinned wide. “Why harvest from people!? Why couldn’t there be an enchantment that does the same!? We all pull our mana out of the very air we breathe, the life around us, so why could an enchantment not do the same!?”

“You’re saying that-“

It was very rude that Nobronor was interrupting the start of Varnak’s thoughts with the middle of his own sentences, but he let that slide. “That this enchantment does just that! It mimics the very process that allows people to recover mana, but it runs indefinitely!” He looked at the glowing sphere that was slowly dying down. “Still not very efficient yet, but the hard part’s done!”

“Varnak, that’s-“

“Amazing? Stupendous!? I know! Just think of the possibilities! Extra mana for healers and potion makers, great machines that run forever and need only to be repaired and looked after, a boundless utopia where even the killing of monsters can be done for us! This will change everything and-“

Varnak cut off as he noticed that Nomrenor was looking down at his feet with tears streaming from his eyes.

“My boy, what’s the matter?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” he replied, wiping at the tears. “And… I’m sorry.”

The [Mad Inventor] was confused about what he could possibly be sorry for… and he never got to know.

Faster than he could track, the dwelf moved forward and struck Varnak in the chest with a flaming fist.

Varnak felt a searing heat for the briefest of moments, and then he collapsed to the ground.

His last thought was a confused wondering at what had happened… and then Placeholder’s first [Mad Inventor] was no more.

-------

While Varnak had seen all the good that could come out of his latest invention, I only saw two things that mattered to me.

First, a way for the people of Placeholder to gather enough power to defeat me consistently, and second… a way for me to finally proceed with my revenge on the System itself.

Why did you have to show me this, you old coot? I asked.

My tears had not been for show. I hated what I had done. And I hated what I would do in the future.

But none of that mattered because my course was set.

I stuffed the mithril sphere into my inventory and gave Varnak one last sad look.

From there, I pulled out [Singularity] and [Overchannelled] a [Fireball] as high as it could.

As far as Placeholder would know, Nindrol and Varnak died in a lab accident. Most people who knew the [Mad Inventor’s] reputation wouldn’t even bat an eye at that… though his workers would never believe he was that unsafe.

Only I would know the truth… That I had betrayed and murdered someone who could have made a lasting difference for good on the entire world.

Vacation’s over. I thought to myself as I [Snuck] away from the crime scene as people poured in the opposite direction to put out the blaze.

It’s time to get back to work.