Infinite Forge: I Can Devour Everything

The notebook's final scrawl hit Edwyn like a rogue spell to the chest: "The Mage is dead."

He leaned back against the gnarled trunk of an ancient oak, the weight of those words sinking in like a blade. His cloak fluttered in the mountain breeze, and his fingers tapped the worn leather cover of the notebook with a rhythm that screamed restless energy. Edwyn wasn't one to dwell on mysteries without cracking them open.

"Dead, huh? Well, that's one way to end a lab report," he muttered, his voice dripping with the kind of cocky nonchalance that made professors at the academy grind their teeth. His sharp blue eyes flicked over the text again, dissecting it like a spell diagram. Taken literally, it meant the Mage who'd built that hidden laboratory, tucked somewhere in the jagged heart of the Blackstone Mountains, was long gone. But Edwyn's mind, ever the troublemaker, spun deeper.

How'd the old guy bite it? An experiment that backfired spectacularly, maybe, leaving scorch marks and a pile of regrets? Or did time just catch up, turning the Mage into dust while his lab sat untouched, a forgotten jackpot of arcane goodies?

If it was a botched spell, that lab could be a ticking trap, spells gone haywire, wards ready to fry intruders, or worse, some half-finished abomination clawing at the walls. But if the Mage had simply keeled over from old age, the place might be a tomb, stuffed with relics but crawling with risks. Tomb-raiding wasn't exactly a picnic, and Edwyn wasn't about to waltz in without a plan. He twirled a dagger between his fingers, the blade catching the fading sunlight.

"Gotta weigh the odds," he said to himself. "Free stuff or deathtrap?"

"Edwyn! You still glued to that dusty thing?" Elia's voice cut through his thoughts like a well-aimed bolt. She stood a few paces away, her blonde hair tied back, her apprentice robes smudged with dirt from their trek. Her eyes sparkled with that mix of mischief and exasperation she reserved just for him.

Edwyn snapped the notebook shut with a theatrical flourish, flashing her a grin that was equal parts charm and trouble. "This little gem? Oh, it's got secrets that'll make your head spin. Even found a spell-modding trick in here. I'll copy it for you when we're back, might give you an edge in the duels."

Elia's face lit up like a mana flare. "Wow! Edwyn, you're the best!" Before he could dodge, she launched herself at him, wrapping him in a hug that nearly knocked him off his feet. He laughed, spinning her around once before setting her down, his grin never fading.

"Easy, Elia. Save some of that energy for the fights."

At the academy, the spell models available for exchange were always basic versions. In reality, modern Mages had created dozens of optimized variants through years of study. Knowing how to refine and enhance spell models was a hidden test for apprentices.

Those who used only the raw models were guaranteed to suffer in student duels.

The real game was in the optimized variants, the kind only the sharpest Mages figured out through sweat, study, and a knack for bending rules. Knowing how to refine a spell was a test, an unspoken gauntlet every apprentice faced. Those who stuck to the raw models got pummeled in the duels, and Edwyn wasn't about to let that happen to him or his friends.

Old John, their grizzled guide, trudged over, his weathered face creased with a grin as he clutched a sack of loot pilfered from Loken, the rogue Mage Apprentice they'd taken down. The haul was solid: a pair of enchanted boots, three Mana Stones, and a few odds and ends.

Edwyn, ever the showman, tossed one of the nearly depleted Mana Stones to John, who caught it with a deft hand.

"Here ya go, old man," Edwyn said, leaning back with a smirk. "Payment for being the best damn guide in the Blackstone Mountains. You're like a walking monster magnet, guiding, tracking, and luring beasties like it's your day job."

John's eyes gleamed as he pocketed the stone, thumping his chest with pride. "Mage lord, you just say the word, and Old John'll give it his all! Ain't no beast or bandit I can't handle for ya."

"Keep that energy, John. Might need you to wrestle a dragon next," Edwyn quipped, winking. He turned to Elia, pulling the remaining two Mana Stones from his pouch. Their faint glow pulsed in his palm like captured starlight. "These are for you, Elia."

Elia's eyes widened, and she threw up her hands. "Whoa, hold up! For me? No way, Edwyn. You took Loken down, those are yours by right. I can't just take 'em!"

Edwyn's grin softened, but the spark in his eyes didn't fade. "Call it a loan, then. I'm investing in a teammate who's got my back. You proved yourself with Loken, didn't hesitate, didn't flinch. That's the kind of partner I need. Besides, you're gonna be a curse mage badass someday, and I want a front-row seat."

Elia blushed, her resolve wavering as he pressed the stones into her hand. She'd stood her ground against Loken, a rogue Mage who'd crossed lines that even Edwyn, with his loose morals, wouldn't touch. Her sense of right and wrong was unshakable, and that made her rare in a world where Mages often played fast and loose with power. Edwyn knew the score: Mages could go solo, sure, but apprentices? They had thirty years, tops, to claw their way up. Between earning stones, meditating, traveling, and dodging death, time slipped away like sand in a storm. A reliable teammate like Elia was worth more than a vault of Mana Stones, she'd cover his blind spots, and that curse mage potential of hers? Pure gold.

"Fine," Elia said, biting her lip as she pocketed the stones. "But I'm paying you back by getting stronger, fast. Deal?"

"Deal," Edwyn said, giving her a mock salute. "Now let's check out the rest of this haul."

He crouched beside Loken's enchanted boots, running a gloved finger over the intricate engravings on the soles. Gale Boots, the guy had called them, laced with a Wind Step spell that could make the wearer move like a gust of wind. Edwyn's grin turned wicked as he slipped them on, feeling the faint hum of magic pulse through his legs. "Oh, these are gonna make me untouchable. Loken wouldn't have slipped my first strike if I'd had these bad boys on."

He stood, testing the boots with a quick step, and a faint green glow flickered as he moved faster than he should've. "Yeah, that's the stuff," he said, spinning on his heel. "Gonna be slicing and dicing in style now."

The group set up camp in the valley that night, the stars above the Blackstone Mountains glittering like scattered Mana Stones. Edwyn lounged by the fire, sharpening his dagger while Elia pored over her spellbook, muttering incantations under her breath. Old John, ever the storyteller, regaled them with tales of his days outwitting bandits and beasts, each story wilder than the last.

"Lord Edwyn, you ever think about how many fools like us have wandered these mountains and never came back?" John asked, poking the fire with a stick.

Edwyn chuckled, leaning back on his elbows. "All the time, old man. But unlike those fools, I've got charm, skill, and a knack for not dying. Makes all the difference."

Elia snorted, rolling her eyes. "You're so full of it, Edwyn."

"And yet, here we are, alive and richer for it," he shot back, tossing her a wink.

The next morning, they followed Old John to the White Crystal Deer habitat, a shimmering grove where the Arcane Beasts roamed, their crystalline antlers catching the dawn light like prisms. Their white scales, tough as plate armor, were prized for crafting crystal balls, and Edwyn needed a few for his alchemy experiments. He crept toward the herd, his new Gale Boots humming faintly, but the moment he got too close, the deer turned as one, their antlers glowing with arcane energy.

"Oh, crap-" Edwyn dove behind a boulder as beams of white light blasted from the herd, each one a searing lance of magic. The air crackled, and the ground smoked where the beams struck. His scaled armor absorbed the worst of the stray hits, and the life-boosting bracers on his wrists kept him from keeling over, but he still felt like he'd been tossed into a furnace.

"Hssss… okay, that stung," he groaned, slumping against a tree, his cloak singed and his hair slightly smoking. He shook it off with a laugh, brushing ash from his shoulder. "Guess I'm not that untouchable yet."

Elia doubled over, giggling behind her hand. "Told you not to get cocky! Old John did warn you to stay back."

"Yeah, yeah, rub it in," Edwyn said, waving her off. He held up a small sack, the faint clink of crystals inside. "Still got something for the trouble. Not a total loss."

"Show-off," Elia teased, but her smile was warm.

They moved on, scouring herb-gathering spots favored by Mages. Most of the plants were out of season, their leaves wilted or buds unformed, but Edwyn harvested what he could, his alchemist's mind already planning potions to brew back at the academy.

"Waste not, want not," he said, tucking a bundle of unripe frostwort into his pack. "These'll be gold once I get 'em growing."

For the next two days, they hunted the Black-Striped Water Python, a low-tier Arcane Beast that ruled the swamps with water magic and raw strength. Old John, ever the madman, baited the beast himself, luring a five-meter-long juvenile into the forest where its watery domain was useless.

"Worth the stones, right?" John called from a treetop, panting but grinning as the python thrashed below.

"Old man, you're insane, and I love it!" Edwyn shouted back, his Gale Boots glowing as he darted through the trees. With a flash of green light, he unleashed a Wind Crow Slash, the spell arcing from his blade in a crescent of cutting wind. The python split clean in half, its scales glistening as it collapsed.

But Arcane Beasts don't go down easy. The severed halves writhed, blood gushing and twisting into spears under the beast's dying magic. Edwyn and his crew were already behind cover, watching the forest take the brunt of the assault.

"Persistent bugger," Edwyn said, peeking out as the python finally stilled. He sauntered over, lopping off its head with a casual swing of his blade. "This'll fetch a nice price." He filled a flask with its blood, the viscous liquid shimmering with latent power. "Elia, your turn. Let's see that curse magic work its mojo."

Elia approached, her expression focused as she cast her spell. The python's corpse shriveled, its scales cracking like dry earth. A bulge formed near the tail, and out slithered a pale-white worm with faint black stripes, its body pulsing with eerie energy.

"Whoa, now that's a beauty," Edwyn said, crouching to get a better look. "What's the deal with this one?"

"It's a Black-Striped Worm," Elia said, carefully storing it in a warded vial. "Five times stronger than a regular curse worm, and five times the price. Rare stuff."

Edwyn's eyes lit up, his grin pure opportunist. "Now that's what I'm talking about! We've still got the other half. Wanna go for round two?"

Elia shook her head, her expression serious. "Can't. Books say Elementary Apprentices can only handle two curse worms, or you're begging for bad juju. Unpredictable misfortune, and all that."

Edwyn's grin didn't falter. "You can't, but I can." He dragged the python's other half over, his tone half-joking, half-daring. "Come on, don't let money rot on the ground. Let's make it rain worms."

Elia laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you're still here," he shot back, winking.

With the python's head secured, Edwyn's mission was complete. As they trekked out of the mountains, he casually probed Old John about the area's history. "Hey, John, any big landslides around here in the last few decades? You know, the kind that buries secrets?"

John scratched his beard, thinking. "Aye, 'bout twenty years back, a big one shook the peaks. Rumors say monsters crawled out after, so us guides steer clear. Nasty place, that."

Edwyn's smirk widened. Bingo. If John's story checked out, that Mage's lab was likely still untouched, a hidden vault waiting for someone bold, or reckless, enough to crack it open. "Good to know, old man. Real good to know."

Back at Blackstone City, Edwyn and Elia boarded a magic airship, the vessel's arcane engines humming as it lifted into the sky. Edwyn leaned against the railing, watching the mountains shrink below, his mind already racing with plans for the lab. Elia stood beside him, clutching her spellbook, her eyes bright with ambition.

"Edwyn, you really think that lab's out there?" she asked, her voice low.

"Oh, it's out there," he said, his grin sharp as a blade. "And when I find it, it's gonna be one hell of a treasure hunt. You in?"

Elia rolled her eyes but smiled. "You're gonna get us killed one day."

"Pfft, dying's for suckers," he said, tossing his dagger and catching it mid-air.

At the academy, Edwyn submitted his mission report with his usual flair, tossing the clerk a wink. Then he headed to his dorm, the notebook tucked under his arm.

The Pale Mask, a relic he'd been itching to craft, was next on his list. As he lit the candles in his cluttered workshop, the glow casting shadows over his tools and tomes, he cracked his knuckles and grinned.

"Time to make some magic."