It was a fleeting thought, but I had never been curious enough to take a close look at Alden's workshop in our home. I knew this was where he prepared his mysterious products, but I hadn't imagined the place would be so… strange.
"Please, come in."
His voice came from inside, and I stepped across the threshold, looking around. It wasn't a spacious room; the various pieces of furniture and materials surrounding me made it impossible to move freely without bumping into something.
The room was rectangular with a single window, and the door was located in the bottom-left corner. The first thing I saw was a wooden table covered in various types of stones and ores lined up side by side. They started with wound-healing gems—ranging from small to medium to large—increasing in brilliance and quality, casting a faint glow over the room.
Beside them lay dark ores in sizes ranging from fragments, chunks, and slabs; one particular piece made my eyes widen, as it shone with the purest white I had ever seen. For a moment, I wondered how much I could get if I sold it.
If those stones were strange, the next ones were even more bizarre: a spiky, dark gray stone; a spiky blue stone; a rounded orange stone with a flame burning inside; a yellowish ore with lightning crackling across its surface; an ore so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light; a green stone oozing a liquid of the same color; another ore oozing a red liquid; a smooth stone patterned with a mix of bright colors; a strangely square-shaped stone lacking detail; a pale, spiky stone; and something resembling a bone embedded in rock. Beneath the table sat crates filled with the same ores on display, while wall-mounted shelves above held pots containing herbs of various colors—green, orange, white, and brown—alongside others holding two distinct types of brown roots.
Beside the table stood a four-sectioned shelving unit; the highest section held various vials filled with colored liquids—gold-adorned flasks containing a shimmering white fluid, small and large glass bottles filled with what looked like blood, others holding a thick orange serum, and finally, two blue urns whose contents remained hidden from view.
The section directly below held three glass tanks: the first two, topped with perforated wooden lids and filled with soil and plants, served as homes for butterflies made of fire and insects that glowed like stars. I had seen strange creatures before, but I wondered how such things could even exist.
The last tank was the simplest, containing only soil where white mushrooms and green moss grew.
Just below that lay an assortment of pastilles in small, open boxes—blue, yellow, red, black, purple, and gray—alongside balms in shades of yellow, red, blue, and purple, as well as a type of orange and blue wax. I didn't know what these items did, but it seemed wise to ask before someone mistook them for candy.
The contents of the bottom section were less eye-catching: glass jars filled with colorful pastes—white, purple, yellow, black, and green—round blue stones emitting a soft glow, and bags of golden powder that, for a moment, I took for real gold before it lost some of its luster. I let a handful slip through my fingers, watching as the grains turned a pale gray.
On the opposite side of the room, facing the shelving unit, stood a cluster of barrels, each filled with various artifacts—round, bronze amulets and green ones of intricate craftsmanship, all covered in black script. I recognized the next ones: the gray amulets used to cloak people in illusions, and beside them, a type of rounded amulet featuring a white stone at its center.
The next items made my breath catch: human skulls and bones. A blue light seeped from the skulls' eye sockets and mouths, while the bones appeared ordinary. I hoped they were fakes, yet a part of me doubted it.
I quickly moved away from them to examine the other barrels, which held various types of arrows; their main differences lay in the color of their fletching—brown, white, orange, blue, yellow, black, green, and red. At first glance, the items next to them looked like spears, but they turned out to be gigantic arrows.
I wondered who could possess a bow large enough—and the strength—to wield them, but then I thought of the person I lived with, and suddenly, it didn't seem so impossible after all. The giant arrows came in dark gray, red, yellow, and light gray, featuring double tips, shaped like a bident.
Beyond the arrows lay crossbow bolts—brown, white, and red—along with two other types that particularly caught the eye, with visible darkness and lightning coursing through their forms.
The next section held standard throwing knives, while two others contained slender green blades and rust-red triangular ones; there were wooden spheres bound together by cords—ranging from brown to black—and clay urns emanating blue flames, lightning, or black fire.
Further on, beside a stack of barrels, stood two large vessels, each holding a small living tree. The first had a gray trunk and green leaves, with bulbous green fruit growing on its branches; the second, however—much like the butterfly—made me wonder how such a thing could exist. It was a tree in flames—not merely catching fire, but made of it. Its trunk, branches, and leaves were all composed of fire, while its fruit was made of wood, with a small flame burning at the center.
The person who had invited me in was on the other side of the room, sitting on a stool far too small for him and facing the fire of a small forge. He clicked his tongue as he pulled the pliers he was holding out of a bucket of water, revealing a twisted ring.
He carelessly tossed the object onto the pile resting near his feet, then stood up—clicking his tongue again—and hung his gloves and apron on a wall hook before approaching me with a faint smile.
"So, what do you think of my workshop?"
I looked at his outstretched arms, then glanced around, wondering how best to answer.
"I haven't the faintest idea what most of these things are, and a small fraction of them make me wonder how such things could even exist."
"Well, it's all normal to me. Let me explain what they do."
Then the long tour began, and the more he spoke, the more I wondered if Alden and his homeland had stepped right out of a fairy tale.
There were healing gems and ores that strengthened weapons while imbuing them with elemental properties and special traits; herbs that could restore a caster's Arts and regenerate stamina; roots capable of healing wounds, reversing petrification, and perhaps even aiding in the treatment of Oripathy; and potions that—like the roots—restored Arts while also healing wounds, depending on the specific version.
There were serums and resins that temporarily granted special abilities to weapons upon application; consumables that boosted the user's defenses or power; acid urns that destroyed enemy equipment while leaving the user unharmed; holy water; insects that increased the user's attack power while reducing incoming damage; healing mushrooms and moss that boosted resistance and cured poisoning; and pastilles that increased defense against darkness, bleeding, petrification, and possibly Oripathy.
There were stones that marked the path with colored lights and could tell you if a fall from a certain height would prove fatal; powder capable of repairing damaged equipment and objects; and amulets that could heal wounds and poisoning to varying degrees, or prevent enemies from healing themselves.
There were skulls that emitted a hypnotic glow when thrown; bones that transported the user to a safe area when crushed; and arrows, darts, urns, bombs, and knives, each with distinct elemental properties and effects. As for the trees, the green fruit of one variety boosted poison resistance, while the fruit of another could empower fire-based Arts.
I took a step back, a shiver running through my body as I tried to process everything that had been revealed to me.
"T-this... this is incredible! It should be impossible, yet you've shown that these things actually work."
"I know this might be a lot of information all at once, but I'd like your help with my projects—specifically, the treatment for Oripathy."
His words grabbed my attention; as if struck by lightning, I cast aside my confusion and focused on what mattered.
"Tell me everything!"
Nodding, we headed toward the table with the ores, where he pushed the artifacts aside, pulled a stack of papers from his bag, and spread them out before us.
"As you know, I'm analyzing Oripathy using the Basilisk's petrification effect as a reference point. Fragrant Branches, Triclops Snake Pastilles, and Ashen Knuckle Rings can boost the user's resistance or even cure the effects. I believe these consumables could be modified—or serve as a basis—for a cure or a disease suppressant, but that would require a steady supply and someone to actually buy the products; and as we both know, the infected aren't exactly wealthy. That's why I'm focusing on the ring—a suppressant that can be worn at all times. However, unlike most of my spells—or 'Arts,' as the Terrans call them—I don't have a sheet of paper detailing exactly how it works, so I have to decipher it myself."
Alden then took the ring in question out of his bag and pointed to the sheets of paper. There was a progression visible there: it started as a complex sigil, but gradually opened up and separated; the lines unfurled to reveal letters, numbers, words unknown to me, and long equations—all written in such tiny, precise handwriting that, when combined, they formed that sigil of thick lines.
"While trying to unravel the ring's enchantment and understand how it functions, I discovered that Roy wasn't its creator, but rather the person who commissioned it. As I mentioned before, my Arts operate according to specific rules, and the text you see here represents those rules. If I can decipher them, I'll be able to create a suppressant ring once I learn more about Oripathy and Originium."
"And what does it say on the papers?"
He then picked up the final sheet—the one containing a massive block of text—and read it aloud.
"I [BLANK SPACE], in the name of Roy the Explorer, forge this ring to combat Basilisk and curses' petrification. With the power of my soul and [UNKNOWN WORD] and [COMPLEX CALCULATION]. It will grant the user a resistance of [BLANK SPACE] and no more than [UNKNOWN WORD] and [LONG EQUATION], and it will not spread to the surrounding environment or any other living being. The ring will have a durability of [BLANK SPACE] and…"
I furrowed my brow; there were many words I didn't understand, and as if that weren't enough, the text was riddled with blank spaces and mathematical calculations.
"Is something wrong?"
Alden's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I gazed at his worried face for a moment before answering in a shy tone.
"N-no, I just didn't imagine your people's Arts would be so…"
"Rule-bound? Logical?"
"Yeah, I guess so. You do such impossible things that I thought you could just snap your fingers and—poof—you'd go flying."
"I see what you mean. I felt the same way when I first entered the mountain facility, until CPAA explained how it worked—revealing the logic, years of study, and progress behind it all. Besides, flying isn't impossible; I've known knights capable of conjuring wings and warriors whose mastery of gravity allowed them to float. It all comes down to ingenuity and resources."
"Seriously? So what's stopping someone from creating a spell or a ring that makes them completely invincible?"
"Good question!"
I crossed my arms, testing how far I could push this; I just hadn't expected Alden to flash me a broad smile and to find myself sitting on a stool a moment later, receiving a lesson on magic rings.
"These are the Quartz Rings, capable of boosting my defense against magic, fire, lightning, and darkness."
He pushed the papers aside and placed four rings next to Roy's ring: two gold ones—one with a red gem and the other blue—and two silver ones—one with a yellow gem and the other purple.
"Each of them bears a complex enchantment, just like the Ashen Knuckle Ring, but these are the weakest versions. There are also intermediate and stronger versions."
Then, two identical versions of each previously mentioned ring were placed beside them.
"As you can see, it's impossible to tell them apart by appearance alone, but they are categorized as weak, medium, and strong; the greater the power, the more complex the enchantment and the higher the quality of the materials. If I were to wear every ring that boosts my defenses, I'd fill nine fingers—or five, if I wore two rings per finger. However, there is an even more interesting and rare version…"
Two gold rings were placed on the table, each featuring all four colored stones found in the Quartz Rings.
"…The Disspeling Ring—in both weak and intermediate versions. It's one of my most prized treasures, boosting the wearer's resistance to magic, lightning, fire, and darkness. The skill required to harmonize the distinct powers of four different stones into a single ring can only be described as transcendental. It's the sort of thing the gods themselves would use. Now, you're probably wondering where I'm going with this."
I nodded, and he continued.
"First of all, the enchantments from various artifacts can stack on the user when equipped simultaneously; if I pull off the exact combination, I could become immune to all the elements mentioned. Secondly, what's stopping me from forging a ring—or casting a spell—that turns me into a god on earth? Simple: materials, complexity, and power. There's a limit to how much energy an enchantment can hold relative to the caster or the material itself. The gold, silver, and gems you see here aren't ordinary; a 'One Ring to rule them all' would require a completely indestructible material—otherwise, it would simply be destroyed—or the caster of such a supreme spell would need to be truly immortal to cast it. It would take a genius, or generations dedicated solely to researching and forging that ring or spell, and ultimately, the power required to activate the enchantment would kill the very person who forged it. Just think: how many casters would have to be sacrificed?"
The more he spoke, the more I understood. It wasn't as simple as snapping one's fingers. Just like my own craft, his work was the result of years of effort.
"I'm not saying it's impossible, but the sacrifices usually aren't worth it. I hope this helps you understand why I'm struggling so much with the weaker version of the Ashen Knuckle Ring. That's why I'd like your help with the medical side of my research—specifically, developing a type of medicine using Fragrant Branches and Triclops Snake Pastilles, based on what I've discovered about Originum Slugs."
There was a brief moment of silence before I stood up with a wide grin, eager for the challenge ahead.
"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get started!"
END OF CHAPTER