Now that I'd finished the preparations for this tux, all I had to do was not mess it up.
Simple... right?
I glanced down at the magic crafting book one last time, making sure I had the magic circle burned into my memory. Every line. Every curve. Every connecting point.
The circle looked deceptively simple.
It wasn't.
One line was responsible for shaping.
Another maintained structural integrity.
Several tiny symbols around the outer ring regulated mana flow so the material wouldn't collapse halfway through the process.
Even the spacing between the runes mattered.
A single misplaced line could cause the entire spell to destabilize.
Could I afford to make mistakes?
Technically, yes.
Iron wasn't exactly a rare material.
But...
Who liked failing?
Definitely not me.
I took one final deep breath.
"Alright..."
"I'm ready."
Raising my hand, I poured mana into my palm.
Blue light seeped from between my fingers before gathering into a small sphere. As I carefully increased the output, thin strands of mana stretched across the air like glowing threads, weaving themselves into intricate geometric patterns.
One line.
Then another.
The circle slowly formed itself in front of me.
Unlike casting normal spells, I couldn't simply memorize the pattern and let instinct take over.
I had to consciously create every stroke.
Every angle.
Every connection.
By the time the final line connected with the first, a faint humming filled the workshop.
The completed magic circle floated several inches above the workbench, rotating lazily while emitting a soft blue glow.
"...That's..."
Honestly...
It was beautiful.
No wonder artificers loved this craft.
It felt less like spellcasting and more like drawing with light.
I reached toward the stack of refined iron bars resting nearby.
The moment they entered the circle's radius, they began to tremble.
The rigid metal slowly softened.
Not from heat.
Not from melting.
It simply... obeyed.
The iron lifted into the air, breaking apart into dozens of smaller pieces before flowing together like liquid mercury.
I stared.
"...Magic is still cheating."
Now came the difficult part.
Visualization.
The book had repeated the warning nearly a dozen times.
The circle can only create what the artificer can imagine.
Not what they wanted.
Not what they meant.
What they could perfectly visualize.
I closed my eyes.
The tuxedo appeared in my mind.
Every measurement.
Every seam.
Every fold.
The collar.
The sleeves.
The cuffs.
The stitching.
The pockets hidden inside the jacket.
Even the slight curve where the fabric rested against the shoulders.
I pictured every piece individually.
The jacket first.
The trousers.
The dress shirt.
The gloves.
The shoes.
One mistake in my mental image would become a mistake in reality.
I slowly opened my eyes.
"Let's see..."
The magic circle reacted instantly.
The liquid metal began moving.
Not randomly.
Purposefully.
It stretched into impossibly thin sheets before folding over itself again and again.
Edges sharpened.
Corners rounded.
Pieces separated.
Joined.
Separated again.
Watching it work reminded me of seeing thousands of invisible craftsmen shaping the metal simultaneously.
Minutes passed.
Sweat slowly formed on my forehead.
Keeping such a detailed image in my head while continuously supplying mana was far more exhausting than I'd expected.
"No..."
I muttered.
"The sleeve is too long."
The metal immediately adjusted.
"Shoulders need another centimeter..."
The jacket shifted.
"Taper the waist slightly."
Again, the metal obeyed.
By the time I finally lowered my hand, nearly an hour had passed.
The magic circle faded.
One by one, the finished pieces gently settled onto the workbench.
Silence filled the room.
I walked over carefully.
"...No way."
I picked up the jacket.
It looked...
Perfect.
Not rough.
Not homemade.
If someone had told me it came from an expensive tailor back on Earth, I would've believed them without question.
The iron had been shaped so precisely that it looked exactly like black cloth.
I flexed one sleeve.
It barely made a sound.
"...Okay."
"That's really cool."
Unfortunately...
That had only been step one.
I looked toward the stack of enchanting tools resting neatly against the wall.
"...Now comes the part where one mistake ruins everything."
Rune inscription.
Unlike shaping, runes couldn't simply be visualized.
Each one had to be engraved by hand.
Every line.
Every curve.
Every tiny intersection.
If the shaping process was sculpture...
This was surgery.
I gently laid the jacket flat across the table.
The gravity rune would go first.
Not because it was the easiest.
Because if I accidentally ruined the jacket immediately, I'd rather know now than after spending six hours engraving everything else.
I dipped the engraving stylus into enchanted mana ink.
The tip glowed faintly.
"...Steady."
The first line slid across the inside lining.
Slowly.
Painfully slowly.
One wrong movement...
One trembling hand...
One uneven curve...
And I'd have to start over.
Hours slipped by.
Gravity runes along the shoulders.
Weight distribution along the torso.
Adaptive runes woven carefully into every major seam.
Structural reinforcement hidden between overlapping layers where no one would ever see them.
Each rune connected seamlessly into the next until the entire jacket became one enormous enchantment rather than dozens of separate ones.
By the time I finished just the jacket...
The sun outside had already begun to set.
A knock interrupted my concentration.
"Adam?"
Celest's voice came through the door.
"Dinner's ready."
I blinked.
"...Already?"
"You've been in there all day."
Had I?
I looked around the workshop.
Mana ink bottles.
Sketches.
Rune reference books.
Scrap paper.
It looked like a hurricane had gone through.
"...I guess I lost track of time."
Dinner was quieter than I expected, but no less pleasant.
Celest had set the table while Luka was already seated, looking far too entertained by the fact that I'd emerged from the workshop with ink on my hands and a tired expression on my face.
The moment I sat down, Luka smirked.
"So..."
"What've you been hiding in that workshop?"
"...Nothing."
"That sounded suspicious."
"I've just been experimenting."
Luka glanced at me over the rim of his cup.
"What sort of experiment?"
I hesitated.
"I wanted to make some clothing."
Luka blinked.
"...Clothing?"
"You spent an entire day making clothes?"
"They're... a little different."
Celest looked up from where she was serving the food, curiosity flickering across her face.
"Different how?"
I shrugged as casually as I could.
"I'm trying to make something practical."
"Something I could wear every day."
"Comfortable."
"Durable."
"And maybe a little difficult to destroy."
Luka laughed.
"So basically..."
"Adam-proof clothing."
"...That wasn't the goal."
"It should be."
Even Celest let out a small laugh.
"I'd love to see it once you're finished."
"I'll... make sure it actually works first."
Celest nodded approvingly.
"A wise decision."
She set down her own plate and smiled.
"The best work is worth waiting for."
I smiled faintly.
"I couldn't agree more."
As the conversation drifted toward lighter topics, my thoughts wandered back to the workshop.
The shaping had gone better than I'd hoped.
Much better.
But the runes...
The runes were going to take far longer.
And one careless stroke was all it would take to turn an entire day's work into nothing more than an expensive pile of enchanted scrap.
Tomorrow...
The real challenge would begin.