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After leaving the Construction Department , Eshmund was already thinking about how to retrieve the locket from the bottom of the lake. Since Silas had provided the exact location in his note, there shouldn’t be much room for error. The only potential issue was underwater currents, but the nanobots could track their movement and estimate where the locket might have drifted. The locket was made of steel, meaning a magnet could fish it out. The problem was the magnet itself – where could he get one? Could there be one being sold? After some thought, Eshmund decided to return to the Weapon Department and ask. If magnet doesn’t exist in this world he could try and acquire another Thunder Gathering Plate. His plan was simple: If he can’t acquire a magnet, he could create an electromagnet by coiling a wire around a metal rod and running current through it. To prevent water damage, he would seal the setup inside a waterproof box. If plastic existed in this world, he could have just wrapped it for insulation, but without that option, a sealed box would have to suffice. Once complete, the box would be tied to a fishing line and lowered into the lake, hoping the locket would latch onto the magnet. Eshmund made his way to the Weapon Department, navigating through rows of displayed artifacts – spirit-etched swords, enchanted bows, and talismans radiating energy. He approached a counter where an elderly clerk meticulously polished a steel gauntlet. The clerk glanced up. “Back again? Did the plate not work the way you wanted?” “Oh, it’s working fine,” Eshmund replied with a smile. “I’m looking for a magnet – something like a lodestone. It attracts iron and makes it stick to itself.” “That sounds like a lodestone, though,” the clerk said. “Well, it’s similar, but I need something stronger – something that makes iron harder to unstuck,” Eshmund explained. The magnetism of a lodestone was too weak for the job. “Nope, sorry young man. I don’t think we have anything like that here, at least none that I can think of. The closest we have is the lodestone,” the clerk said. “Nevermind, then,” Eshmund replied. “Just give me another Thunder Gathering Plate, preferably a smaller one.” From his previous experience, he knew that even the standard plate generated a minimum of 50 volts. A smaller one would likely still produce at least 10 volts, which should be enough for his magnet. The locket wasn’t that heavy, after all. The clerk raised a brow. “Downsizing, are we? What do you need it for?” “Energy experiments,” Eshmund answered vaguely, not eager to explain his electromagnetic fishing idea.

The clerk studied him for a moment before nodding. “We do have a low-output plate – it’s usually used for refining delicate artifacts. Not as strong as the standard ones, and not many people find a use for it.” He placed a small hexagonal plate on the counter. “This one works exactly the same as the one you bought before, but with a lower output,” the clerk said. Perfect. Eshmund examined the craftsmanship before handing over his token. The plate was indeed smaller, about half the size of his previous one. “How much for this one?” “This one’s cheaper – 70 points,” the clerk replied. Since not many people used this type of plate, he was probably just glad someone was buying it. “Do you also have regular thread? Nothing magical, just the kind used for fishing,” Eshmund asked. “Oh, going fishing?” The clerk perked up. “Tuangran Lake has a good spot – between the mapple tree and the birch tree. I go there sometimes. The hook doesn’t get stuck as often there. Do you need a fishhook, too?” “I already have hooks,” Eshmund said. He was indeed going fishing – just not for fish. A hook wasn’t necessary. The old clerk rummaged through the back counter and took out a large bundle of fishing line coiled around a short wooden rod. “This is over 300 meters long – more than enough. You’ll have a lot left over,” the clerk noted. “How much for this?” Eshmund asked. “That? You can have it for free. It’s actually my leftover. it has been gathering dust here for a long time. We don’t actually sell this kind of thread here – you’d have to check the general store for that,” the clerk said with a smile. “Are you sure? This is quite a lot,” Eshmund asked, slightly hesitant. “It’s fine,” the clerk waved dismissively. “I was planning to make a fishing net with it but never found the time. It’s great to see a youngster like you with the patience to go fishing.” “I’m so damn old and still too busy I just want to go fishing,” the old man murmured, reminiscing for a moment as he grumbled to himself. “Then I won’t be polite,” Eshmund said pretending not to hear what he just heard, accepting the thread. The clerk chuckled. “No problem. Do you need anything else?” “That should be it for now. I’ll be back to trouble you again later, thank you very much” Eshmund said with a grin. The clerk smiled while processing the payment. As Eshmund walked out, he reflected on the interaction. “Damn, I should’ve introduced myself. Getting connected with good people is always a plus,” he thought. Back at the herb garden house, Eshmund gathered the materials. First, he went to the open kitchen, removed the spices from a small wooden box, and then took the empty box to his temporary workspace, which he had set up on the living room floor near his bed. He then reached into his space pouch and pulled out a sturdy iron bar. It was a piece left over from his time working on a project at Anise’s blacksmith. He was glad to finally have a use for it. He was the kind of person who hesitated to throw things away, always thinking they might come in handy. After acquiring the space pouch, he was like a squirrel with a hoard of nuts. Estimating that its weight would be sufficient, he tested it in the nearby creek. The box sank as expected, so he didn’t need to add anything more.

Satisfied, he returned inside and took out the copper wires he had used to unlock the cube before. He also prepared cloth strips and some resin he had bought from Carlan’s shop. The resin hardened on contact with water or cold air, so the cloth would help secure it in place. Then, he brought out the fishing line he had obtained from the weapon department. This would allow him to lower the box into the lake. Finally, he laid the Thunder Gathering Formation Plate on the floor and glanced at the scattered items. The cramped space again reminded him of his need for a better workspace. He started by coating the iron bar with a layer of resin to prevent short circuits. After it dried, he wrapped the iron bar with a few layers of paper. He then tightly coiled the copper wire around the bar, ensuring even spacing. Then, he connected the Thunder Gathering Plate, creating an improvised electromagnet. The first test was promising. When he activated the plate, the iron bar hummed softly. He grabbed a metal spoon from the kitchen and held it close. The spoon snapped onto the magnet instantly. “The plate provides fluctuating power, anywhere from 12V to 20V. That should be enough to keep the core magnetized,” Sage said. “We’ll make do with it for now. This isn’t the optimum setup,” Eshmund replied. Satiesfied with the result, he carefully sealed the magnet inside the wooden box, reinforcing the seams with resin. It wasn’t as effective as plastic, but it would keep most of the water out. Once the setup was complete, he tied the sealed box to the fishing line. Now, all that was left was retrieving the locket.

Under the bright sun, the lake sparkled beautifully. Eshmund scanned the area and spotted a small dock where people rented boats. “How much for one?” he asked. “The smallest basic one without a roof can carry two people. It costs 10 points per hour,” the vendor replied. Not thinking mch of it, Eshmund paid and carefully rowed the boat toward the location marked in Silas’s note. With both Silas’s provided coordinates and the nanobots’ analysis of underwater currents, he had an idea of where the locket should be. “This should help,” Sage finally spoke, displaying a map of the lake bed. Eshmund glanced at the projection. A small red dot marked the target location. “Nice. So, the target is this little blue dot, right?” “Yes,” Sage confirmed. “Just lower the magnet slowly. The locket should attach itself to the box.” Eshmund took a deep breath, steadied the fishing line in his hands, and carefully lowered the waterproofed magnet box into the water. The ripples spread outward as the box sank, disappearing into the lake’s depths. At first, nothing happened. The boat rocked gently as he let the magnet hover just above the lake bed sediment. He imagined the locket buried under layers of silt, motionless for who-knows-how-long. The only thing keeping him from making this a blind retrieval was Sage’s tracking. The fishing line trembled slightly. Eshmund’s fingers tightened around it. Was that just the current or something snagged? Deciding not to risk losing the catch, he pulled it up. Water streamed off the wooden box as it surfaced. Heart pounding, he grabbed it and checked the bottom. A small steel locket clung stubbornly to the magnet. But there was something else. “Eh? What’s this?” Eshmund murmured as he detached both the locket and the unexpected find. The second object was longer – about 15 centimeters. At first, he thought it was an iron ruler, its surface darkened by grime and rust. But as he rubbed off the lakebed filth, his brows furrowed. It was a knife. The blade was ordinary – just an old iron knife, eaten by rust. But the handle was a different story. Beneath the grime, faint traces of gold gleamed, and in the center, a red gemstone sat embedded in the grip. He eyed it with mild curiosity. The weapon itself wasn’t special, just something that probably belonged to a merchant or a wealthy traveler who had the coin to afford a fancy-looking tool. Nothing extraordinary, but the materials alone were valuable. “Well, that’s a nice little bonus,” he muttered, tucking it away. He glanced at the time. Still plenty left on the rental. No sense in wasting it. With a smirk, he lowered the magnet box again and dragged it slowly across the lake bed. If one valuable item could be found, who’s to say there weren’t more? For the next half-hour, he dredged up bits of rusted scrap, an old iron ring, and unidentifiable metal shards. Just junk. Still, it wasn’t a waste. A lake like this, frequently visited by people, was bound to hold lost treasures. Rings, pendants, tools – maybe even weapons. A new idea took root. “Maybe I should come back later,” Eshmund murmured, smirking as he coiled the fishing line back into the boat. This could be profitable. He tried a few more times, dragging the magnet across the lake bed, but nothing. Not even a piece of rusted scrap. “That’s it? Should I try another location?” he wondered, glancing around. Just as he was about to row to a different spot, his hand brushed against the box – and he froze. It was warm. Much warmer than it should be. Frowning, he quickly pried open the lid. The moment he saw inside, his stomach sank. The copper wire had snapped. Not just broken – it melted. He stared at the charred remains of the coil wrapped around the metal bar. The realization struck instantly. The circuit lacked a regulator. Without control, the current must have surged too high, overheating the wire until it burned through. Eshmund exhaled sharply. His setup was too crude. He had been having fun with this, but this failure was a clear sign that he needed a better design. Shaking his head, he flicked away the ruined wire and start rowing to the shore. “Any findings on the Fire Squirrel?” He asked “Not yet. The forest is too big to cover, and there’s no hint. Should we just abandon that one?” Sage replied. “Leave it for now. First, I need to eat and then look for some classes to join,” he said. After finishing a regular meal at the Sect’s Diner, Eshmund wandered through the academy grounds, scanning the different halls. Eventually, he arrived at an auditorium with a stone plaque above the entrance – Artifact Crafting Class. He stepped forward, but just as he reached the entrance, a guard blocked his path. “This class is for cultivators only,” the guard stated firmly. Eshmund frowned. “I’m a student here. Why can’t I attend?” The guard gave him a once-over, his gaze sharp. “You’re not a cultivator.” Eshmund tensed slightly. “And?” “Artifact crafting requires True Fire and constant elemental energy manipulation. You have neither,” the guard said flatly. “You wouldn’t even be able to light the forging flame, let alone craft an artifact.” Eshmund exhaled sharply. Right. True Fire. The refined flame necessary for artifact crafting. Something he didn’t have – and never would. “That’s for the instructor to decide,” he shot back. “If I can’t do anything, then I’ll leave. But at least let me attend.” The guard hesitated, studying him for a moment. “Show me your student token.” Eshmund pulled out his token and handed it over. The guard inspected it, his eyes flickering with brief surprise. “You can go in,” he said finally, stepping aside. Eshmund didn’t question it. He walked in, finding the auditorium filled with students – some already seated, others chatting in small groups. It wasn’t an advanced class, so there were plenty of newcomers. Must be a beginner’s course, similar to Formation, Magic Circle, and Rune studies, he thought. That worked in his favor. He found a seat near the middle just as the instructor came in.

This instructor look very imposing compared to the one in the previous class. He is an elderly man, likely in his seventies. His long, flowing white hair and beard evoke a striking resemblance to Eshmunds grandfather, stirring a sense of familiarity. Draped in elaborate robes, he wears a dark grayish-blue outer garment over a reddish-brown inner layer, both adorned with intricate gold patterns. His forearms are protected by sturdy leather armor and resting on his back is a sheathed sword, its presence suggesting that, despite his age, he is far from defenseless. “Welcome to Artifact Crafting Basics,” the instructor began. “In this course, we will cover fundamental principles of artifact refinement, the importance of materials, and the techniques required to inscribe formations.” He gestured, and a floating parchment displaying runic symbols and metal ores appeared beside him, similar to the other class Eshmund had attended. “The foundation of artifact crafting starts with True Fire. True Fire is not an ordinary flame; it is a cultivator’s refined flame, which you will be able to manifest at a higher cultivation level. It allows for controlled forging, fusion, and refining of materials. Without it, even the best materials are useless.” He paused before continuing, “There are other types of fire that can be used for refining, such as high-grade Fire Cultivation Techniques, Beast Flames, and Heavenly Flames. However, all of these are incredibly rare and difficult to obtain. Only a handful of cultivators have ever been recorded possessing such flames, and even then, it requires a special body constitution to control them. In other words, you have a better chance of cultivating your own True Fire than obtaining one of these rare flames.” The instructor’s tone remained steady as he continued. “Spatial artifacts, puppet crafting, magical tools, weapon and armor crafting – all of these fall under artifact creation. Even talisman making, in some cases, requires True Fire refinement.” “The selection of materials is also critical. Low-grade materials cannot withstand high-level inscriptions, and certain materials react differently to different energies. The grade of material you can refine heavily depends on the strength and control of your True Fire.” “Most of the time, you must combine multiple materials to craft an artifact, but materials will not bind properly without proper refinement.” “Artifacts, runes, and magical inscriptions are closely related. A non-magical material can become magical through rune and magic inscriptions, while a magical material can be enhanced further by refining it with inscriptions.” He narrowed his eyes. “However, materials that are not fully refined will lead to failures during inscription. An incorrectly inscribed item won’t just be weak – it could explode and blow your head off.” A murmur spread through the students, some shifting uncomfortably in their seats. “There is something all of you need to understand and remember,” the instructor said, his voice turning sharp. “A cultivator can only manifest True Fire upon reaching Core Formation. And even then, not everyone will succeed. Only those favored by the heavens can achive it.” His gaze swept across the class, and some students visibly deflated, their enthusiasm crushed. “So, how do we manage all that refining before reaching Core Formation?” the instructor sneered. “We can use Earth Fire,” a student responded quickly. The instructor scoffed. “Good. At least you’re not a complete failure.” “Our sect primarily uses Earth Fire to refine artifacts, magical tools, and pills. But don’t think that makes things easier.” His expression grew serious. “The most crucial requirement for any magic craftsman or alchemist is Spiritual Sense. Without it, crafting artifacts is nearly impossible.” Another wave of murmurs spread through the students. “The reason is simple – control.” The instructor gestured, and a floating flame appeared beside him, shifting between steady and chaotic bursts. “Spiritual Sense allows a craftsman or an alchemist to precisely regulate how much energy is infused during refinement. Without adequate Spiritual Sense, even a high-level cultivator will struggle, leading to unstable artifacts or complete failure.” Eshmund frowned slightly. Another limitation. First, True Fire. Now, Spiritual Sense. The instructor continued, “Spiritual Sense is also critical for puppet masters. Unlike artifact crafters and alchemists, they must distribute their awareness across multiple puppets, controlling each one independently. In essence, they are multitasking on a supernatural level.” He waved his hand, and an illusory display of a puppet master controlling three automaton warriors appeared. Each puppet moved fluidly, attacking and defending in perfect synchronization. “Without Spiritual Sense, a puppet master would lack precision, and their puppets would be nothing more than clumsy hunks of metal and wood.” Eshmund tapped his fingers lightly against the desk. That explains why puppets aren’t widely used. It’s not just about crafting them – it’s about controlling them. The lecture pressed on, but Eshmund was already analyzing everything. If Spiritual Sense is required how can I get around that? The instructor’s voice remained steady, but his words carried weight. “Some cultivators are born with a strong Spiritual Sense. They can perceive energy fluctuations with ease. Some mortals are also naturally gifted. Others, however, have a weaker sense, struggling even with simple refinements.” He paused, letting the students to absorb the information. “There is a record of one cultivator who could control a thousand puppets simultaneously and extend his awareness over 500 kilometers. There is also a mortal monk who could predict the future accurately due to his Spiritual Sense. But such talent is a gift from the Almighty. As of now, there are no known techniques to train Spiritual Sense – you are born with a certain level, and you die with the same level.” A heavy silence settled over the class. Eshmund’s thoughts raced. Do I have Spiritual Sense? Can I predict the future? He wanted to dismiss it as nonsense, but this was a magical world. He was just a frog in a well – he hadn’t even seen the vast sky yet. “For the next session, we will conduct a Spiritual Sense test. If you fail it, you will not be allowed to continue in this class. There’s no point – you’d just be wasting your time.” Gasps rippled through the students. Some clenched their fists; others slumped in their seats, faces pale. The instructor’s bluntness crushed more than a few hopes. “Don’t be so quick to despair,” he continued, unfazed by their reactions. “This is just one of many trials you will face.” He crossed his arms. “To advance in this field, you must pass a practical refinement test in the examination hall. If you fail, you will not be permitted to enroll in any higher-level crafting courses.” His expression softened slightly. “The sect cannot afford to waste precious materials on talentless people. I may be harsh, but it’s for your own good.” For the first time since the lecture began, the instructor smiled.