The fifth scorpion carapace shattered under my grip and I cursed as the fragments clattered on the bench and floor. My frustration was mounting at the lack of progress but I forced myself to remain calm. Destroying the building around me would be easy but foolish, my inner voice reminded me. Accidentally ruining the armour I was attempting to make was a much easier problem to fix than ruining the workshop in a fit of anger.

  Sweeping the loose chips of chitin into a corner, I slowly took some calming breaths and removed another carapace from the workshop’s inventory. A fair amount of the scorpions we had beaten had been so destroyed the System hadn’t even bothered to give me a carapace reward but I still had hundreds to work with. I could afford mistakes, but every fuck up was time wasted. It meant more hours which I would be forced to live in this chaotic dungeon, unable to help people outside.

  By the time I had broken another three exoskeletons without making headway, I decided to cheat. I unfastened the cage around my Spirit Well. After the massacre visited upon the tunnels below the dungeon, I was wary of the influence its subtle pull had when my life was on the line. However, here in the workshop, the sway it held over me was easier to manage. By allowing the Spirit Well to act on its own, small amounts of uncontrolled Spirit began to change the process for me. I began to quickly remove deficiencies in my preparation of the hardy materials.

  Sometimes the Spirit Well moved my attention to a tool I hadn’t considered in my preparations. In other moments, my touch was lightened to just the right amount of pressure for the task at hand, or a swing hit the carapace harder than I intended and showed me a new limit to the morbid substance. Finally, now I could maintain a single piece of equipment long enough, the flowing mana inside of me did its job. Dropping the half-finished work in my hand, I pumped the air when I felt Mana Savant flare to life a moment before the System graced me with its own Spirit.

  Congratulations! Skill Unlocked - Armour Crafting (Common)

  It is said by some that the godliest way to win a fight is to make sure your opponent can never hurt you to begin with.

  I smirked, feeling a bizarre flicker of guilt as additional information flooded into my mind. The slight emptiness in my Spirit Well from using the fuel within was refilled by the gain. Even without watchful eyes, the ease at which I broke through the barriers of the System had me shaking my head. “People are going to be jealous,” I sighed. I knew logically there was no reason to hold back when it came to Mana Savant or any of my skills, yet I didn’t ignore the negative instinct.

  Each new skill filled me with capability, but it could easily be argued I was being changed. Realistically, it would be harder to argue the opposite. I was a casual killer now. I could create balls of magical destruction in one palm, and barriers of arcane protection with the other. With a flick of a switch, I could give myself over to a strange power which ingrained fighting skills in me as it moved my body for me. Due to the way I had entered the System, I wasn’t a huge fan of the loss of control in the moment.

  I had been beaten, poisoned, choked, stabbed, slashed and variously battered and broken by actual monsters. Even now, I was planning to make armour so I could go and fight even stronger ones. One day, I would be the most powerful thing in the dungeon, and I would be able to leave. A slight purr within my magic caught my attention.

  “Oh, you like the idea of being the strongest, do you?” I asked, reminded that I held the power of a Dragon at my beck and call. A snort from within the world of the Dragon caused me to laugh out loud and broke my spiral. “Not quite the power of a Dragon yet, is that right? Not quite mine?” I questioned the Aspect playfully. The rumbling quakes and thundering peals of the Aspect’s response seemed to say not for a long time to come, little thing.

  I nodded. If I remained stuck hoping I could return to the life I had before, I would never survive the changes still to come. I was holding onto an idea of myself which existed before the System. In a real sense, that man was dead, replaced with someone who had the same memories but was completely different. This wasn’t the first time I had struggled with this truth, but I still felt like I was living a defining moment. With each level and skill, I was a step further from the simple human who I had been before all of this. It would only become more pronounced in the future.

  I set my jaw and made my decision.

  Survive the apocalypse, and then figure out who you are afterwards.

  With renewed focus, I continued practising with the lesser materials. In one corner, placed as a carrot to chase, were the glittering and colourful exoskeletons of the more powerful scorpions. Until I had figured out how to work with their hard shells, there was no point ruining the more valuable pieces. At this point, they were a taunt, asking whether I would ever be able to work with them.

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  I left the provocation there to fuel me on as my pace quickened. With the skill now earned, I pushed my mana through the weaving wrought into my channels, the complex pattern in my hands almost glowing under my skin. If I had Manasight active, I didn’t doubt it would shine, but I couldn’t spare the cost. Every spare piece of energy was devoted to Armour Crafting. Even with my high Regeneration, the greedy skill caused my mana total to slowly tick down.

  Once more the bindings on the Spirit Well shifted, and a cycle of expenditure and recovery began in which Spirit would leak into my actions, furthering my progress with the confusing and frustrating task, and a subsequent skill level in Armour Crafting would recoup the cost. I was a blur of motion, a being of pure energy, all of it devoted to my new fixation.

  Barely paying attention to my hands, I allowed my muscles to learn how they needed to caress the disparate pieces into a cohesive whole. Before too long, actual form began to take hold. By shaving away the more rigid parts, reinforcing others with threads or straps, the brittle material became malleable. As more and more intricate additions were needed, I began to draw from the spoils of earlier battles.

  The twine and bark from the Treents joined the few pieces of pseudo-leather I had managed to make, threaded with nails made from the sharp teeth of the Sundercats who hadn’t bent the knee. There was no sense in wasting the stuff now, though it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I wasn’t desperate to be a hero, but I liked Merownis. His presence in the dungeon was a buoy in the ocean, a true ally I could rely on. If I had been stronger, maybe I could have freed the other Sundercats rather than claiming their lives.

  Except, it wasn’t nearly so simple. They were creations of the dungeon, born from the System’s womb and written with its laws within. I had been lucky with Merownis, not least of all because he was the final enemy. If the others had been able to attack me while we forged our bond, I would be dead. I resolved to respect their loss by not wasting the sacrifice. Not only their experience as levels, but even their bodies would be used to further keep me safe.

  Time continued to pass as I worked and philosophised. When I got hungry, my hand needed only to plunge into the Xaverweave Pouch at my side and devour whatever café snack came out. As a companion, it was ideal. Silent, vaguely cute and able to fuel my work for the hours I obsessed over it. My skill levels continued to rise, and my earlier work began to look paltry. I took this as a good sign, though I was still unwilling to use the relatively scarce coloured or metallic variants of carapace.

  My truest breakthrough came with enough experience to level up to level twenty six. I had gained a fair amount from the Scorpion King and the subsequent annihilation of its forces which followed, but I was once again surprised to find this “simple” task had rewarded me a similar amount. I placed the attribute points into Perception, enjoying the wriggling sensation under my eyelids. Even with my increased senses, when I looked at the finished piece, I was hard pressed to find fault. Especially when the System information came online.

  Apprentice’s Carapace Cuirass

  Crafting fervently by a novice who made up for inexperience with determination and ingenuity.

  Effect: +2 to Resilience while worn

  Ten health wasn’t much to me, but my eyes bulged all the same. Two attribute points might be negligible but it was proof of a new concept. I half-expected an achievement and told myself off for being disappointed. The knowledge that this was a possible outcome to crafting was more than enough. I only hoped to make something which would be durable while not hindering motion. I had more than succeeded.

  The cuirass, which I had thought was called a breastplate while making it, was composed of the basic carapace and only a few materials. I wasn’t running low, but forcing myself to be frugal with the limited supplies seemed to have paid off. Essentially all I had done was mould two pieces of the hard material into the relative shape of a torso and fitted some straps to lock it in when worn. The fact this was my supposed masterpiece so far could only mean good things. It would only get better from here.

  I was almost disappointed when Merownis and Naea returned, forcing me to break out of my semi-obsessed crafting session and interact with reality. I didn’t allow myself to go on a tangent about reality again, instead blinking as they opened the door. “When did the sun come up?” I asked, my voice harsh. How long had it been since I spoke aloud?

  From Naea’s worried look, maybe too long. “Grant,” she said, completely serious, “it’s been a week.” My heart sank and I almost panicked, but Merownis’ laughter next to her gave the game away quickly. Naea didn’t wither under my glare, instead fluttering her eyelids and she came over and poked me. “You have been busy!”

  “Was I seriously working all night?” I repeated, ignoring Naea and letting her inspect the armour. I stood, groaning and stretching. Merownis waited until my strange noises were finished to chuckle again and nod.

  “It seems like you saw out the scary evening,” the Sundercat teased. “Naea tells me humans cannot see well in the dark, so tomorrow night you may hold my hand if you like.” As he was so keen to learn about humans, I taught him a rude gesture by aiming it his way and rolling my eyes. After he demanded I explain, we both had a laugh together and he also had a look at the cuirass. He rapped his knuckles against one side, a low thud to the impacts. “Impressive, truly. Will you wear this?”

  “Actually,” I extended the word to give me time to draw the rest of what I had made from the pouch. Armour Crafting wasn’t the only thing I had done in my long night of work. At points, I had burned through too much mana and been forced to Meditate. It was during one of these moments I had an epiphany. Something I had ignored for too long could be fixed, so I fixed it. Removing some custom-made leggings from the pouch, I threw them at him. “I made these for you. Please, put some clothes on. I’ve seen your fuzzy balls way too many times. Once you’re finally clothed, you can tell me all about your evening.”