The next day was… quiet.
Suspiciously quiet.
Rex sat on his bed, packing his things back into their proper places while skimming through his book, occasionally stopping to reread a rune or scribbled note. His injured arm still ached faintly, but it was manageable.
Then he reached for his sword.
He paused.
"…Huh."
Rex lifted it fully into the light.
The blade was bent.
Not cracked. Not chipped.
Bent.
He turned it slightly. The edge had several flattened spots, like someone had repeatedly hit stone with it.
Rex stared at it in silence.
Images flashed through his mind.
Lilee.
Eyes wide.
Swinging the sword with both hands.
Using the flat of the blade.
Bonk.
Bonk.
Bonk.
"…She fought skeletons like a caveman," Rex muttered.
He sighed, gently setting the abused sword aside.
"I really should rest."
He stepped outside, letting the cool air clear his head.
Across the courtyard, Dorian stood near the forge, calmly wiping soot from his massive hammer like nothing in the world was wrong.
Rex watched him.
A thought formed.
A very bad thought.
His smile slowly appeared.
He walked over.
"Hey, Dorian?"
Dorian didn't look up. "If this is about the staff, no."
"No, no," Rex said quickly. "This is unrelated."
That alone made Dorian look up.
"…Go on."
Rex clasped his hands behind his back.
"Can you make me a really big war hammer?"
Dorian blinked.
"…Define 'really big.'"
"Big," Rex said. "But very light."
"…That's already suspicious."
"And very durable."
Dorian narrowed his eyes.
"And stronger than normal."
Dorian sighed. "Why?"
Rex smiled wider.
"You'll see."
There was a long pause.
"…Sure," Dorian said slowly. "I'll regret this later."
He turned and walked into the forge room.
Rex immediately went the opposite direction.
Straight to the library.
The Focus (Because of Course There Was a Focus)
Rex flipped through shelves with purpose.
"Air… air… where are you…"
He pulled out a tome and began listing runes:
Air
Explode
Push
Breach
Density
He nodded.
"…Yeah, that'll do it."
An hour later, Rex stood in the ritual room.
Pure focus core placed in the pedestal.
Runes arranged carefully—layered, not overlapping.
Air for movement.
Push for force.
Explode for sudden output.
Breach for penetration.
Density to control mass at the moment of impact.
The ritual activated.
The air twisted unnaturally.
The focus formed—light, humming softly, unstable in a promising way.
Rex picked it up.
"…Oh this is a terrible idea."
He grinned.
The Hammer Incident
Dorian finished the war hammer shortly after.
It was massive—nearly as tall as Rex—but surprisingly easy to lift.
"Lightweight alloy, reinforced core," Dorian said. "If this breaks, it's not my fault."
Rex nodded enthusiastically. "Perfect."
He took the hammer, carved a precise slot into the side of its head, inserted the focus—
—and welded metal over it.
Dorian's eye twitched.
"…You made it impossible to remove."
"Yep."
"…Why."
Rex lifted the hammer.
"You'll see."
They went outside.
Rex planted his feet, gripping the hammer tightly.
"Aer."
The focus activated.
Air began spiraling around the hammer, compressing, tightening.
Rex swung it down—
—and the ground launched him into the sky.
"WHAT—" Dorian shouted.
Rex rose several stories high.
As he fell, the hammer's head visibly grew heavier, the air condensing around it.
Rex swung.
The tree he hit didn't fall.
It didn't break.
It was flattened.
Reduced to splinters and dust in a single, deafening impact.
The air cushioned Rex's landing perfectly.
He stood up unharmed.
Dorian stared.
"…Can you not do that."
Rex tilted his head. "Do what?"
"Your spells are already not normal," Dorian said. "Do not put them into weapons."
Rex paused.
Then his eyes lit up.
"…Wait."
Dorian's expression shifted immediately.
"No."
"What else can I make?"
"No."
Rex was already walking away.
Lightning Gloves (Because Stopping Was Never an Option)
Rex returned wearing gloves.
"Just a small thing," he said cheerfully.
Dorian folded his arms. "This is how disasters start."
Rex created two new focuses.
Runes:
Control Flow
Lightning
Explode
Shockwave
Push
One for each glove.
He activated them.
Electricity danced along his fingers.
He punched the air.
CRACK.
A shockwave rippled outward, lightning snapping violently.
"…They're basically lightning gloves," Rex said proudly.
Dorian stared.
Long.
Silent.
"…Is this becoming a hobby," Dorian asked, "or is this a one-time thing?"
Rex just smiled.