Jeremy’s mind was in turmoil. Then again, that was the constant state of his mind for as long as he could remember.

Instead of a single stream of consciousness, the wizard had to deal with a multitude — most of them hostile. It was like an assembly of senators hell-bent on world destruction. Jeremy kept amending or vetoing their proposals — something the demons in his head didn’t like.

The constant stream of infernal thoughts made the wizard doubt himself — to the point that he didn’t know who or what he was. He was wary of making decisions. It was impossible to ascertain if his thoughts were truly his. They could be tainted or influenced by others — or they could be their thoughts entirely.

Jeremy found the answer early in his life. There would be no moral decisions on his part. He would only base his actions on the will of the people around him — three of them to be exact.

His mother made him value the lives of ordinary people and his father told him that cultists and enemies of humanity should be eradicated. Everything in between was covered by Sebas.

The wizard was focused on enchanting a bracer for a client. It was supposed to hold an entity, most likely infernal.

Sebas was doubtful of the client — even staying until their conversation ended. Later, Jeremy would find out it was because his butler couldn’t sense any sin on her — as if she was a newborn, or someone like Boot.

Jeremy shared his butler’s doubt. He added conditions to the enchantment — forbidding its wielder from killing or harming people, as well as constraints against sexual compulsion. There were nobles who had a thing for succubus and erinyes — then again, those types of demons were inclined to participate.

Still, he added the constraints — just in case there was a shy succubus. Who could tell?

The bracer to be enchanted was nothing special — aside from being entirely made of mithril. It had no intricate carvings or complex locking mechanisms. The bracer was made to be plain.

Jeremy frowned upon inspecting the bracer. He could see strands of mana intertwined in the metal — worldly mana. Any enchantment or restrictions he would place on the bracer would slowly be influenced by the mana within it.

Sure, it would take years — perhaps even decades — but the wizard would have none of it.

This was his first enchantment request. He was not going to make a roughshod product.

Jeremy shook his head. It was off to the forge.

It was a short walk to the back of the house. As an afterthought, he chided himself for not choosing to go through the back. Now, he had to interact with one of the farmhands.

“Mister Scourge, sir,” whoever it was greeted him.

It was a strange greeting — and quite an awkward one. Jeremy didn’t mind being called “Scourge”, but he expected it would be used when referring to him or his actions. The Scourge did this, the Scourge did that, — that sort of thing, not something people would call you to your face.

Not that he minded. It just felt a bit awkward — especially with mister attached to it.

Jeremy smiled at the boy. He was one of his favorites. There was a trace of fear in his voice — even as he craved for attention and affirmation. This one had a strong potential to be a capable minion.

Now, if only he could remember his name.

“How is it going?” he paused, giving the boy a chance to reveal his name.

“Stuart, sir.”

“Steward?” Jeremy frowned. “’Don’t you guys already have a warden? Now, there’s a steward?”

“It’s Stuart, sir” the boy corrected. “That’s my name.”

“Good, good,” the wizard muttered. “Can’t have too many caretakers running around for a single group.”

The boy stared at him for a while as if struggling to remember something.

“It’s fine, Mister Scourge.”

“You just said you were Stuart,” Jeremy was starting to get confused. “Never mind all that. I need to see the dwarf — so I’ll be heading to the forge.”

“Mister Siege left two days ago, sir,” the boy stammered, as if hesitating to be the bearer of bad news. “He said something about going back to being an adventurer.”

“Adventurers,” the wizard scoffed. “Where’s the fun in that? They’re just cogs in a machine that profits from their efforts. Now, buying and selling monster parts — that’s where the profits are.”

He headed to the forge after enlightening the boy. He left out how Guilds controlled the prices — buying low and selling high. Adventurers risk life and limb every day — but very few get richer than the shop owners they indirectly sell to.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Jeremy fondly stared at the Corner Shop™. Supplying to adventurers also proved to be quite profitable — but he should have aimed higher.

Lady Amaranth tripled their orders for Lifesavers™ by marketing them to nobles. There was an issue about shelf life, but Jeremy was confident his products would stay effective for at least three months.

He expected a slew of new orders in the coming weeks. One of the boys talked about how dueling was becoming popular again in the city. A few nobles were having quite public confrontations — even setting up stages for their peers to view their prowess.

There was profit there somewhere — but it would also entail permits, crowd safety, marketing, and whatnot. He already had his hands full with his shop and his other projects.

Finally, the forge.

Jeremy could hear the slightest sounds of banging and grinding coming from within. He opened the door expecting to see the dwarf — instead, he saw two unfamiliar people.

“Mister Scourge, sir,” the burlier one spoke, trying to straighten his garb. “Mister Siege said we could use the forge as long as we brought our own ores.”

The wizard to the forge and to the corner of the room where the ores were placed. They were indeed using the forge and they seemed to have brought their own ores.

“Did the dwarf teach the two of you?” he asked. These two could potentially diversify his earnings if they worked in his shop.

“Just the basics sir,” the other one answered.

The two then proceeded to show him various daggers that they made. There were also wooden shields banded together with sheets of metal.

“These are pretty good,” Jeremy tested some of the knives, noting their keen edge. “Very well made, though not as good as mine.”

The two apprentice smiths glowed at his words.

“We’ll be working now,” he smiled at them. “The two of you please close the door.”

The burlier snapped to attention, heading to the door and closing it. The eagerness in his steps was clearly visible to the wizard.

The three of them stared at each other for a few seconds of awkward silence.

“I meant, from the outside.”

Eyes started to widen as the two boys realized what he meant. They quickly took their leave — cleaning up as they went and bowing as they left the room.

“Tsk.”

Jeremy sighed.

He would have liked their help but the two had mana in their bodies. The amounts were minuscule compared to the average person’s — which was strange — but mana was mana.

All traces of ambient mana was destroyed as the wizard flooded the room with his own.

The bracer had to be reforged to make it pure. The mana it absorbed in forging was entwined in the metal — and mithril was well-known for holding to mana. It needed to be smelted and reforged — and he didn’t know how.

Very few demons used weapons. They had their claws and teeth or razor-sharp tails. Those that used weapons would usually acquire them from others or had minions do their work.

But weapons were not his problem — a bracer was.

Slave trade was quite common in the infernal realms — as were collars and anklets. A handful of planes specialized in making these items, offering their wares as tribute to greater powers to escape subjugation.

Collars and anklets were quite similar to bracers — and communing with the demons that forged them was not so big a risk.

Jeremy opened his mind and took one in.

It wasn’t possession. He merely relived the memories of the demon in a short span of time.

He could now make collars and anklets that could subjugate the will — which was no different from what his bracer was supposed to do.

The wizard ignored all the subjugation parts — his enchantments would do their work to a limited degree, and they had limiters. He focused on the forging.

Jeremy opened the forge and made one of his golems grab the necessary tools. It was time to work.

Having three assistants made the job easier. They did all the melting and pounding as the wizard watched from the sidelines. All he needed to do was finishing and detailing.

Of course, Jeremy repeated the process three times before he was satisfied with the look of the bracer.

The enchantments were easy — limited control with an exclusion of commands that would harm other people. They would also be ineffective on creatures with limited lifespans — which meant every being on the material plane.

Satisfied, the wizard stared at his work.

It was easy to make. He could make dozens of them in a day. Sure, he couldn’t use them on innocents — but his enemies were fair game.

Nah.

Jeremy shrugged. He already had an enemy turn into a minion. He didn’t know how it happened — but Sebas said it had something to do with crippling fear and hopelessness.

Boot certainly looked happy out there farming — though he would probably be happy with the snails too.

Life was complex — and Jeremy was sure he didn’t have all the answers. But he knew he was no smith.

Forging all day to make subjugation collars was no different from making healing drops in his lab. And he’d probably need to constantly make them to stop the tide of do-gooders coming for him for the dastardly deed of enslaving others.

At least his healing drops didn’t bring in the inquisition.

***

Sebas mused on their last visitor. There was something strange about her — no, everything was strange about her.

Her attire was pristine. Not a speck of dust from her journey to the shop — even though she came by horse. Her soul was free of sin — not guilt, but sin. The butler only encountered such a thing in Boot — and the man was a broken thing.

He couldn’t even determine where she was from. She spoke with a strange accent — a conglomeration of everything or the most neutral one possible.

The butler shook his head.

She wanted enchantments on a bracer that would bend the will of a demon. It was a strange request — but she was willing to pay whatever the price.

His master was mindful enough to limit the scope of the enchantment — but it still bothered Sebas.

He felt like they were playing with fire — while playing a game of chess where they were the pawns.