Flame licked at Arwin’s hands as he worked the lizard scales together, winding the final scale onto his third attempt at making a piece of armor for Reya. The first and second tries sat in a pile off to his side. The first had turned into a decent set of armor, but he’d failed to capture any magic within it. The second attempt hadn’t turned out much better, but he’d worked out a few issues in his methodology. It was a lot easier to make himself a piece of armor than it was for him to make one for someone else. That felt like a no-brainer after Arwin realized it, of course. When he was working for himself, he knew exactly what he wanted. And, while he didn’t have any complete proof for it yet, Arwin was confident that when his will aligned with that of his materials – that was when he could make a magical weapon. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the easiest to put himself into the shoes of someone else when he was specifically trying to make something for them rather than just a random piece of armor that happened to be magical. And yet, as Arwin finished working the last scale into the chest piece and held it up before the forge to get a good look at the finished product, he felt the telltale tingle of the Mesh race against his skin. [Forest Lizard Scale Mail: Average Quality] has been forged. Forging a magical item has granted you energy. Achievement: [Shoe Thief] has been earned. [Shoe Thief] – Awarded for forging an item made specifically for someone other than you. Effects: One skill in your next Skill Selection has been upgraded to Unique. This achievement will be consumed upon choosing your next skill. Arwin’s lips creased with a smile. If he’d been earning this many Achievements back when he’d been this Tier as the Hero, he probably wouldn’t have even flinched when the black gem had blown up. Arwin then used the unfinished blade to carve out a spot for the tang to sit before putting the halves of the handle around the tang. He grabbed some of the nails he’d forged, hammering them into place with just a few blows to secure the handle in place. Time for water. I hope my trusty hole is still there. He re-heated the blade and headed out of the smithy and over to the makeshift quenching station near the ditch. To his delight – and relief – the pool was still there. It must have been connected to a small wellspring. Either that, or someone really liked pissing here. That less than tasteful thought in mind, Arwin plunged the blade into the water. It bubbled and hissed, frothing around his hand and forcing him to squint through the steam until it subsided. As he pulled the weapon free, the faintest traces of magic shimmered around the finished dagger, as if the Mesh could sense that Arwin was done working on it. Realistically, he was pretty sure that it could. [Dagger: Average Quality] has been forged. Forging a magical item has granted you energy. [Sharp]: This item is abnormally sharp. It will cut through many things – including the hands of whoever is holding it. Almost on cue, Arwin cursed as he felt something nip at his fingertip. He dropped the dagger in surprise, shaking off the small cut on his hand. “Wow,” Arwin said dryly, the pang in his stomach growing slightly stronger. “Lovely. Almost forgot about the detrimental bit, but color me reminded. I wonder what happens when I take on the properties of being sharp. I really hope I don’t grow spikes.” He lifted the dagger up to his mouth, pausing for a moment. The idea of chowing down on a piece of metal still wasn’t appealing, but biting into something that wasn’t just sharp but abnormally sharp felt like it was definitely a good way to cut his insides open. Then again, not eating this is a good way to blow up. Or implode. I’m not actually sure what would happen if I don’t eat magic in time, but I’m not going to sit around and wait to find out. His hesitation was rewarded with another cut on his hand – he had no clue how, but the literal handle of the dagger was somehow managing to slightly injure him, even through the defenses of [Indomitable Bulwark]. Not wanting to wait any longer, Arwin started at the back of the blade, taking a careful nibble out of it. The metal melted beneath his teeth, ripping away easily. It still wasn’t the most pleasant activity, but the pain in his stomach relented. Arwin worked his way around the dagger, eating the rest of it without too much difficulty. Every bite he took just turned into what felt like hot, metallic soup in his mouth. A warmth grew, spreading out through his entire body as he finished eating until the pain had completely vanished. Well, at least I’ve got a cool party trick. Does that always work, though? Or is it only when I’m hungry? Actually, for that matter, does it even have to be magic at all? If I can eat a magical object, would I be able to eat a normal one as well? Arwin glanced around the smithy, then grabbed a bar of steel. He raised it before his mouth, studying it doubtfully. It didn’t look any more edible than the dagger had, but if he could just chew through anything in his path, that was something he could incorporate into his fighting. Not that I fancy the idea of trying to chew through my enemies, but if my life is on the line, it can’t hurt to find out. He brought the bar to his mouth and nipped at it. The metal seemed… well, metal. It certainly didn’t feel particularly edible, but Arwin wanted to be absolutely certain just in case he was psyching himself out. Opening his mouth a little wider, Arwin carefully bit at it, applying pressure but not enough to mistakenly break his teeth. And it was fortunate that he did – the bar didn’t give in the slightest. It was about as edible as a bar of metal should have been, and that was to say that it wasn’t edible in the slightest. “Damn,” Arwin said, lowering the bar. He turned, only to find Reya standing in the entrance of the smithy, staring at him with wide eyes. She hurriedly cleared her throat. “I didn’t realize you were busy.”