I first heard about pykrete from MythBusters, which was a science TV show that aired on the Discovery Channel. Pykrete was simply ice with fibrous materials suspended and frozen inside. The classic pykrete used sawdust as the source of fiber, although you could also use shredded paper or stuff like that. A tiny amount of such materials, spread throughout the ice, increased its durability by about threefold.

I grabbed a handful of dew-moistened grass from the lawn. I aimed up into the sky, casting Frost Missile. A crystal of ice formed and grew, enveloping the blades of grass within its refractive facets. It sparkled dazzling-green in the sunlight, like an emerald. With a push of my palm, I sent it darting off into the air.

SOPHIA - Level 3 Arcana Point: 40 (+12)

Heh. A 10-point increase. That was more like it.

Ever since then, I made it a habit to stuff one of my coat pockets with finely shredded paper, so I could always make pykrete missiles.

I added this as an example of magecraft in my book's manuscript. And though I hadn't come up with any new tricks since then, I met a few other mages in the Research Division. I mentioned to one of them, a light mage, that light of longer wavelengths had better atmospheric penetration. In other words, red and yellow light maintained their intensity better over long distances, compared to blue or violet light. That raised her Arcana Point by 1. A tiny amount, but I listed it in my book as an example nonetheless.

Across the course of weeks, and with much labor, I finished my manuscript. It only ended up being a measly 40 pages, but people here measured lifespans in months, so it didn't make sense to devote too much time to any single piece of writing.

Once I felt ready, I went to Professor Phoenixcourt's office. I stood in front of his desk, clutching my thick stack of manuscript-papers with both hands. Nervousness built up, the way I'd feel when submitting a finals essay.

"Have you thought of a title?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said as I handed my manuscript to him. "Magic Engineering."

When I said that, a faint glow pulsed across my manuscript before fading away.

MAGIC ENGINEERING - Manuscript Reading and understanding this manuscript grants you +5 Arcana Points permanently. You can only benefit from this manuscript's knowledge once.

"...Eeh?!"

"Great!" the professor said. "It looks like you have crafted your very own magical item. Congratulations, Sophia."

Confused yet excited, I began to pace circles around Phoenixcourt's office. "Is this supposed to happen?" I asked. This whole time, no one told me we could craft magic items on our own! I had imagined that every magical thing was found by someone as loot after a challenge.

"It certainly is a rare occurrence," Professor Phoenixcourt noted. "You're in a very, very small percentage of people who will ever create a magical item. Less than one in a hundred, no doubt."

"Woah," I said. "I think I'm feeling pretty special right now."

"And you are." He flashed one of his brief, rare smiles. "I am very glad to have you as a collaborator."

Professor Phoenixcourt agreed to help me get a book deal, so we could publish the book for others to read. The book would be priced at around $1500, and I'd get a $120 royalty per book sold.

"I was expecting a bigger share," I told the professor. "I mean, I'm still happy, of course."

He gave me a half-nod. "A lot of the cost goes towards printing fees. And the Institute will take a decent share too, as the official distributors and marketers."

"Have you ever thought of working solo?" I ventured. "Seems like you could get way higher royalties if you published on your own."

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The professor smirked. "Now remember. The Institute is paying you good money each month for your research. You won't get that working by yourself."

"Oh yeah, huh."

Soon, we ironed out a deal with the Institute and the Printer's Guild.

Meanwhile, Hei had been doing well for himself as a fighter in the Combat Division. Saber had mentioned how it'd be overpowered for a single player to have the combination of mobility, plus durability, plus sustained damage. Well, that was Hei, as long as he landed his Schwarzschild Tridents. And he always did. He had his tricks, such as using Voidstep's purple energy pulse to conceal the Trident as he threw it. Or he'd hold the Trident in throwing-pose for seconds on end and feint throws, until his opponents revealed patterns in how they dodged about. At least, he said the patterns were there. I couldn't tell. All in all, the Combat Division recognized Hei as the strongest duelist among their level 3 members. There were only about seven or eight of those, but Hei's standing was still impressive.

Sometimes it felt like he'd make a better sniper than me. I brought the question up to Saber, when the two of us were walking home from work together one day. She agreed that between Hei and me, he had the better aim.

"But you're not really a sniper," Saber then added. "You can afford to miss, since you have many spells on short cooldowns. Think of yourself more like long-ranged artillery. But Hei's trident needs a minute to recharge, right? He needs to hit with it, or he won't get another chance."

"Huh," I noted. "I never thought about it that way."

The days were short now, with the arrival of winter, and the sun had mostly set by now, at six in the evening. Hei generally left work hours after Saber and me, so he'd go home alone. He'd often come home at 10 or 11 P.M., after pushing himself to exhaustion in duels and drills and workouts. All in a single-minded endeavor to survive here and make it home. But selfishly, I wished we'd get more time to spend together.

Despite the much colder weather, Saber still wore her customary armor, the same one she had worn throughout summer's heat. Only now, she added a scarf to her ensemble, plus a pair of wooly mittens. She left her gauntlets at home nowadays due to the sheer amount of paperwork she had to handle as Doctor of Strategic Studies. I myself had bought warmer clothes, thicker pants and gloves and boots, and a wool sweater to wear under my coat.

On our way back home, I stopped on top of the stone bridge that went across the river in town. It had begun to snow, for the first time since our arrival.

I leaned over the side of the bridge and watched as fresh snow peppered down upon the river's dark and frozen surface. The white snowflakes drifted down, neither quickly nor slowly, but at a timeless, hypnotic pace. You could lose yourself watching them fall.

"It's been half a year, almost," Saber said. "We've made it pretty far."

Yeah, she was right. We had been together here for a while now. And I had grown accustomed to taking people in my team for granted, as though we had progressed enough to outgrow death.

I watched as she pawed at the falling snow with her mittens, trying to catch a flake or two as they danced their ways down. After a few swipes, she showed me a tiny sliver of frost in her palm.

"Oh wow," I said. "You actually did it."

She cracked a childlike, happy grin.

A tall, scantily-dressed figure stopped near us. He, too, looked out from the side of the bridge at the evening winterscape. Even in this weather, he had his chest bared.

Wait.

That was the druid from Bronze, who had made his party search up our house. When did he get to Silver?

He had all four followers still with him, all alive and whole. I even saw the annoying mage who wore a robe embroidered with stars, the one that had searched under my hat, then accused me of harboring kitchen knives in the…well, kitchen.

"...You," I said to the druid, taking a step away.

"You appear to be faring well," he said casually.

I shrugged. "You can say that."

"How is Robert Atlas?"

"He's…he's fine, I guess." At least, I thought he was. He was drinking through bottles of liquor every week, but maybe he had always been that way.

"Good for him." The druid's beard hid any expression he might've shown. "And good for you," he said with a single nod. "I have high hopes for Robert, not that he'd care. Be careful in the Winter Challenge."

He continued across the bridge with his followers, leaving Saber and me behind.

"Huh," I whispered. "That was slightly less confrontational than I expected."

"Maybe taking care of the rabbit farm brought out his gentle side," Saber guessed.

A week later, the Winter Challenges began. Our party would go on Day 17. This time, I noticed the gradually but steadily increasing absences around town. The fruit-cart merchant on my way to work went missing. A new owner inexplicably took over the Eat Cow Tavern, where Saber had once brought us for dinner. When I went to look for the phone-charging girl, her house was empty and evicted. A notice pasted to the front door reported she had honorably died in the challenge. It said she had been a member of the Combat Institute's Expedition Division.

And then, our team's appointed time came as well. We entered the arena once again, to stand trial against the creators of this game. I emptied the Potion of Austerity down my throat.

Hei and I marched to bottom lane, where we met our opponents. Up against us stood the Archer robot, who had an ability that boosted its attack speed. That was the same Archer we faced in Bronze, except more skilled in every way this time around. By its side stood the Barrier-bot. We had both read about it in the library. That one's first ability allowed it to conjure a force-field around an ally or itself to absorb 90 damage. Its second ability launched a spherical barrier as a projectile, which dealt damage and temporarily swallowed and imprisoned targets on hit. Its third ability was an antimagic field that "Silenced" all enemies within, preventing them from using any Mana.

In other words, it specifically countered mages like me.