Infinite Forge: I Can Devour Everything

Three days later, the academy library hummed with the faint buzz of arcane wards, its towering shelves packed with tomes that seemed to whisper secrets in the dim light of Mana Stone lanterns. Edwyn prowled the aisles with the swagger of a man who owned the place. His blue eyes scanned the spines until they landed on a thick, leather-bound volume: Arcane Beast Rearing Manual. He yanked it from the shelf, grinning like he'd just found buried treasure. "Bingo. Chayle's little pet project needs some TLC, and this is gonna be my cheat sheet."

The book, heavy with the weight of ancient knowledge, detailed the art of raising Arcane Beasts, everything from feeding schedules to taming their wilder instincts. Borrowing it wasn't cheap; the library demanded three Mana Stones for a five-day loan. Edwyn didn't blink, tossing the glowing stones to a tiny sprite that materialized from a puff of blue mist. The creature, no bigger than his hand, chirped as it caught the payment, its translucent wings fluttering. Edwyn pressed the crystal orb Joron had given him to the book's serial number, sealing the loan with a faint pulse of mana. "Easy money," he said, tucking the book under his arm. "Let's get to work, partner."

Back at his dorm, the air was thick with the earthy scent of magical herbs and the sharp tang of alchemical residue. Edwyn stepped onto his balcony, where the Death Raven perched like a dark sentinel, its green eyes glinting with eerie intelligence. Slightly larger than a crow, its sleek black feathers shimmered with a faint arcane sheen, and an iron chain bound its leg to a reinforced perch. It stared into the distance, unblinking, as if plotting its next move. Edwyn smirked, tossing his cloak over a chair. "Well, aren't you a brooding badass? Chayle outdid himself."

According to Chayle, this Death Raven was a masterpiece: physique rating of 15, capable of soaring 6,000 meters with feathers tough enough to carry 200 pounds and shrug off magical projectiles. Its claws and beak, modified to slice through steel, gleamed under the afternoon sun. Edwyn pulled a handful of iron pellets from a drawer, their surfaces polished to a dull shine. Chayle had tweaked the raven's digestive system to handle metals, keeping its feathers and talons razor-sharp, but it also needed ten pounds of fresh meat daily to fuel its arcane metabolism.

"Eat up, big guy," Edwyn said, holding out the pellets. The raven tilted its head, then pecked at them with surgical precision, each bite deliberate. "Yeah, you know I'm your ticket to the good life."

He wasn't just feeding it to be nice. Bonding with the raven was step one to implanting the soul seed, the core of Arcane Beast tech. The seed would link their minds, letting Edwyn issue complex commands and share the raven's night vision and illusion-piercing senses. Some Arch-Mages built entire armies of beasts, but apprentices like Edwyn were capped at two soul seeds, and losing a pet meant losing the seed. The Death Raven, with its support role, was perfect for a guy like him, always one step ahead of trouble.

"Gotta get you to like me first," he muttered, tossing another pellet. "No pressure, but I'm kinda charming, so don't make this hard."

With the raven fed, Edwyn grabbed a watering can etched with faint runes and tended to his balcony garden. The magical herbs and saplings he'd harvested from Blackstone Mountain, frostwort, starvine, and a few gnarled bloodroot sprigs, sat in clay pots, their leaves glowing faintly under the academy's enchanted sunlight. He poured mana-infused water over them, the liquid shimmering as it soaked into the soil. "Grow big and strong, my little money-makers," he said, patting a pot. "You're gonna fund my next big score."

Inside, his desk was a glorious mess of books, vials, and half-sketched rune diagrams. The Arcane Beast Rearing Manual joined the pile of tomes Joron had given him, dense texts on artifacts, potions, chimeras, and magic arrays, each page packed with knowledge that would've cost a fortune in the library. Edwyn flipped through them, his grin softening with a rare hint of gratitude. Being Joron's apprentice had its perks; these books were a goldmine, free for the taking. "Suck on that, library fees," he said, leaning back in his chair. The day slipped by in a blur of reading, watering, and tossing pellets to the raven, its green eyes watching him like a judge.

As evening fell, Edwyn left his dorm, knocking on Elia's door next door. "Elia! Time to eat like kings!" he called, his voice brimming with his usual bravado. Elia emerged, her blonde hair tied back, her apprentice robes swapped for a simple tunic that still carried a faint smudge of curse ink. She smiled, already used to his theatrics. "You're paying, right?" she teased, falling into step beside him as they headed to a new restaurant near the tower.

Ever since the Blackstone Mountain trip, Edwyn had been building their partnership. Elia was sharp, reliable, and had a knack for curse magic that made her a rare gem. Casual meals, shared classes, joint missions, they were forging trust, step by step. "Gotta keep the dream team tight," Edwyn said, nudging her. "You're my secret weapon."

The restaurant was a dive, its wooden walls scuffed and bare save for a few faded landscape paintings and tattered tapestries. Twelve Mana Stone lamps cast a warm glow over twelve tables, their light flickering like tiny stars. But the place had a reputation, and not for its decor. The owner, some mysterious figure with deep connections, had hired mortal waiters, tall, polished, and trained to move with the grace of court nobles. One approached, his face a mask of professionalism, and handed Edwyn a menu bound in wyrm leather, laying out silver cutlery with a soft clink.

Edwyn scanned the menu, his grin widening. "Charcoal-Grilled Rune Pig Ribs, enhances physical strength. Nice." He leaned back, tossing the menu to Elia. "This guy's got connections. All the ingredients are arcane beast cuts. We're eating like Arch-Mages tonight."

Elia's eyes widened at the prices, her fingers tightening on the menu. "Edwyn, this is insane. One dish is, like, three Mana Stones. That's a kingdom's tax haul in gold coins!"

Edwyn waved it off, his smirk unshakable. "Relax. We don't do this every day. Gotta live a little, right? Besides, I'm curious about this strength boost. Might make me even more unstoppable." He picked a few dishes, Rune Pig Ribs, Starvine Salad, and a Blood Wyrm Stew that promised to sharpen reflexes, and handed the menu back to the waiter, who retreated with a silent nod.

Bored, Edwyn glanced around the sparsely filled room. Only four other tables were occupied, their patrons hunched over steaming plates. Then his eyes landed on a familiar face. "Well, well, well," he said, his grin turning mischievous. "Elia, isn't that Kevan from the airship?"

Elia followed his gaze and nodded. "Yeah, that's him. With Griffith, too."

"Perfect." Edwyn was on his feet in a flash, strolling over to Kevan's table like he owned the place. "Kevan! My man! Long time no see. Miss me or what?"

Kevan, dressed in a tailored robe that screamed merchant money, flinched, then recovered with a practiced smile. Across from him sat Griffith, the grizzled apprentice who'd helped Edwyn pass the entrance exam. Griffith paused, his fork hovering, and gave Edwyn a nod. "Edwyn. Still causing trouble?"

"Always," Edwyn said, dropping into an empty chair without asking. "So, Kevan, how's life? You look like you're swimming in Mana Stones."

Kevan chuckled, discreetly sliding a hundred-credit academy note across the table. "Been alright, nothing like you, I bet," he said, his tone smooth. "Just made a bit of coin recently."

Edwyn pocketed the note with a wink. "That's my boy. Always knew you had the smarts." Kevan's tact was his superpower, on the airship, he'd been quick to read the room, and now he was playing the game like a pro. But as Edwyn leaned closer, a familiar scent hit him, sharp and floral. "Wait a sec… is that wisteria?" His eyes narrowed, playful but sharp. "That's prime stuff for artifacts and potions. You dealing in alchemical goods now?"

Kevan froze, then gave a resigned nod. "Sharp senses, Edwyn. Yeah, I'm in the trade. Family's in commerce, so it's in my blood. Found a niche here, alchemical materials. Edwyn, are you specializing in alchemy?"

Now that Kevan had admitted it, Edwyn became more interested.

Since alchemy was his specialization, he'd be doing a lot of experiments. The commercial zone had plenty of materials, but rarer ingredients were often hard to find.

Now that Kevan was involved in alchemical material trade, he'd likely become a fixture in the commercial zone.

As the saying goes, more friends means more opportunities, and Edwyn was already thinking about building that connection.