Infinite Forge: I Can Devour Everything

When Joron offered him the chance to become his personal student, Edwyn didn't hesitate. His grin widened, sharp and defiant, as he tossed the crystal ball in one hand like a gambler with a winning die.

"Of course, I accept," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. He gave Joron a theatrical bow, low enough to show respect but with a flourish that screamed showman. "Let's make some magic, teach."

Joron's eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and caution. "In that case, let us form the pact." He reached into a drawer, producing a sheet of parchment that shimmered with arcane runes, their lines pulsing faintly like veins of liquid starlight. "This is a soul contract. Sign it, and you're officially my apprentice. I'll pass my knowledge to you, and you'll carry it forward, as Arch-Mages have done since the Age of Ignorance."

Edwyn took the parchment, his gloved fingers brushing the surface. The runes seemed to hum under his touch, a reminder of the weight behind this moment. The Mage-Apprentice bond was no casual deal, it was deeper than blood, a sacred tradition rooted in the days when mages first clawed their way out of darkness. Knowledge was their lifeblood, passed from master to student, each generation building on the last. Edwyn skimmed the contract, his smirk softening as he read the clauses. Most forbade selling or leaking Joron's secrets without permission, a standard rule, given how cash-strapped apprentices often were. Knowledge was priceless, and temptation was a beast even the sharpest Apprentice could fall to.

"Fair enough," Edwyn said, grabbing a quill from Joron's desk. "No selling your secrets to the highest bidder. Got it." He signed with a flourish, his name looping across the parchment in bold, defiant strokes. The moment the ink dried, a flame sparked at his signature, consuming the document in a flash of violet fire. Ashes drifted to the floor, and Edwyn felt a faint tug in his soul, like a thread tying him to something ancient and vast. He whistled low. "That's one hell of a signature stamp."

Joron's lips twitched, a rare hint of a smile. "By ancient tradition, Apprentice Edwyn, I shall now perform your initiation." He stepped forward, placing a weathered hand on Edwyn's forehead. The old Arch-Mage's palm was warm, charged with mana, and as he began chanting in a tongue older than the tower itself, the air grew heavy. Edwyn couldn't parse the words, harsh, guttural syllables that seemed to vibrate in his bones, but he felt a surge in his Spiritforce, a spark igniting deep in his soul sea. It was subtle, a boost of maybe 0.1 points, but it hit like a shot of pure energy, sharper and faster than hours of meditation.

"Whoa," Edwyn muttered, his grin widening. "That's one hell of a pick-me-up. Got any more of that?"

Joron clapped his hands, the sound echoing like a spell. "That's it. Initiation complete." With a flick of his wrist, he summoned three thick tomes from the shelves, their covers bound in dark leather and etched with silver runes. They floated to Edwyn, landing in his arms with a heavy thud. "These are your introductory texts. Study them thoroughly. Master them, and come back to purchase the next set."

Edwyn blinked, nearly dropping the books. "Purchase?" His grin faltered, replaced by a mock pout. "Hold up, teach. I'm your official apprentice now, right? Don't I get the VIP treatment? Free books, maybe a cool staff or something?"

Chayle, lounging against a bookshelf with his flask dangling, burst out laughing. "Oh, you sweet summer child." He stepped forward, clapping Edwyn on the shoulder. "Don't look so shocked, little bro. Agnes and I are in the same boat. We all shell out Mana Stones for the good stuff."

Edwyn raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. "Seriously? What's the deal? I thought being Joron's apprentice came with a free all-you-can-learn buffet."

Joron stroked his beard, his expression cryptic. "Knowledge is precious, Edwyn. Handed out freely, it's taken for granted. You'll value what you earn." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Besides, Alchemy is a practical art. Books alone won't make you a Mage. If you're skilled enough, you can earn Mana Stones selling artifacts or potions in the commercial zone to trade for more."

Agnes nodded, her phoenix eyes glinting with approval. "The teacher's prices are fair. With your skill, Edwyn, you could earn enough for the next tier in under two years. Maybe less, if you keep pulling stunts like that Pale Mask."

Edwyn hefted the tomes, his grin turning sly. "Two years? Pfft, I'll have that covered in six months, tops. Watch me." He tucked the books under his arm, already plotting ways to turn his alchemy skills into a Mana Stone goldmine. Potions, artifacts, maybe even a side hustle in curse worms with Elia, his mind was a whirlwind of schemes.

Joron waved them off. "Go. Study. Don't waste my time until you're ready for more." Edwyn gave another mock salute, spinning on his heel as he followed Agnes and Chayle out of the lab.

As soon as the heavy door thudded shut, Chayle threw an arm around Edwyn's shoulders, grinning like a proud big brother. "Damn, little bro, you were hiding your power level like a pro. That Pale Mask? You blew me and Agnes clean out of the water."

Edwyn laughed, shrugging off Chayle's arm with a playful nudge. "What can I say? I'm a walking surprise. Stick with me, and you'll see plenty more where that came from."

Agnes's feelings were more complex. Until Edwyn's stunt, she'd been Joron's golden child, the prodigy of a millennium. Now, that crown sat firmly on Edwyn's head, and it stung. Her lips pursed, her eyes narrowing as she studied him, but she wasn't one to cling to grudges. After a moment, she sighed, her expression softening. "Alright, Chayle, quit hogging him," she said, pulling a small badge from her pocket. It was silver, etched with a faint shimmer of runes. "Edwyn, this is for you. It's inscribed with a Deflection Field, blocks ranged physical spells like Icicle Spear. Consider it a welcome gift."

Edwyn's eyes lit up as he took the badge, turning it over in his hands. "Well, damn, Agnes. This is slick. Gonna save my ass in a duel someday." He pinned it to his cloak, giving her a wink. "Thanks, sis. You're alright."

Chayle looked glum, scratching the back of his head. "Man, I hate being outdone. I'd give you something, little bro, but my specialty's not gear. Gimme a couple days, and I'll whip up a small chimera as your welcome gift. Deal?"

Edwyn's grin widened. "A chimera? Hell yeah, I'm in. Wait, you study chimeras?" His mind flashed to the entrance exam, the hulking beast he'd barely survived. He'd pulled a pulsing core from its corpse and stashed it in his dorm, forgotten until now. "That thing in the exam… that was you?"

Chayle chuckled, rubbing his neck. "Teacher was supposed to handle it, but he dumped it on me. Pretty solid, right? Took a beating and kept coming."

"Solid? That thing nearly turned me into paste," Edwyn said, laughing. "If it wasn't half-dead, and if I didn't have my gear, I'd be a smear on the floor. Respect, man." He paused, a glint in his eye. "Actually, I yanked something like a heart outta that beast. Would that be useful?"

Chayle froze, his eyes widening. "A heart? You mean the core?" He leaned forward, excitement bubbling up. "If you've got a viable core, I'll custom-make you a chimera. Top-notch, my best work. I'm not great with gear, but chimeras? That's my jam."

Edwyn smirked, already liking where this was going. "You're on. I'll dig it out for you."

They parted ways, and Edwyn sprinted back to his dorm, his cloak billowing behind him like a rogue's banner. His workshop was a glorious mess, vials of reagents, half-finished runes, and a pile of singed quills from the Pale Mask project. He rummaged through a chest, tossing aside spellbooks and a pair of enchanted gloves until he found the chimera core. It was fist-sized, pulsing faintly with a sickly green glow, its vitality absurdly stubborn after months without energy. "Still kicking, huh?" Edwyn muttered, turning it over. "You're gonna make one hell of a pet."

He held the core, channeling 15 points of Spiritforce to extract its data. The process hit like a psychic hammer, images and arcane formulas flooding his mind, muscle structures, mana pathways, primal instincts. His vision swam, his knees buckling, but the spiritual feedback loop kicked in, pushing his total Spiritforce to 20 points. He steadied himself, grinning through the dizziness. "Worth the headache," he said, tucking the core into a warded pouch.

He met Chayle in the alchemy wing, handing over the core. Chayle's eyes lit up as he tested it, his fingers glowing with diagnostic spells. "This is prime stuff," he said, grinning. "What kind of chimera you want?" He pulled out a scroll, unrolling it to reveal a list of over a hundred low-grade chimeras, each with unique abilities, fire-breathing lizards, shadow-stalking cats, even a Seven-Headed Demon Goat that sounded like a nightmare.

Edwyn scanned the list, his expression turning thoughtful. The Demon Goat was tempting, all raw power and chaos, but he needed something subtler, something that fit his style. His eyes landed on the Death Raven, a chimera with night vision and the ability to pierce illusions. Linked through a soul seed, it'd let Edwyn share its senses, giving him an edge in scouting or dodging traps. "This one," he said, tapping the scroll. "Death Raven. Not the flashiest, but it's got my name written all over it."

Chayle waved it off with a flourish. "Death Raven? Easy peasy. Come find me in three days, and it'll be ready to roll."

"Sweet," Edwyn said, giving him a fist bump. "Don't skimp on the cool factor, alright?"

Chayle laughed, already scribbling notes. "Trust me, little bro. This bird's gonna be a badass."

Edwyn trudged back to his dorm, exhaustion crashing over him like a tidal wave. The data extraction had drained him dry, his Spiritforce barely holding steady. Normally, he'd meditate to recover, but tonight, all he wanted was to faceplant into bed. He kicked off his boots, tossed his cloak over a chair, and collapsed onto the mattress, the weight of the day sinking into his bones. The tomes Joron gave him sat on his desk, their runes glowing faintly, but they could wait till morning.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, a memory surfaced, the vision he'd seen when he first connected to his soul sea. A vast, shimmering expanse of stars, endless and breathtaking, like an ocean of light calling him to explore. His lips curved into a soft smile, a rare moment of quiet beneath his usual bravado. 

"The Star Ocean," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I really want to see it someday."

He closed his eyes, the smile lingering. He was Joron's apprentice now, his roots planted deep in the academy's soil. One step closer to Arch-Mage, to the kind of power that could touch the stars. For now, though, sleep claimed him, and he dreamed of ravens soaring through a sky ablaze with light.