The final spell tome was Create Greater Undead. The description said it was the basic beginning point for the formation of undead beyond skeletons and zombies. I knew without a doubt how powerful this spell could make me. Armies of undead were amongst the most practical ways to engage in battle, but it wasn’t something I was willing to do. Before being inducted, I would have taken this spell. My ideas about what necromancy meant were based on gaming. There it was a dark art but not inherently evil, at least in most iterations. I knew some would curse me for a fool for what I did next, but I didn’t care. I knew how necromancy worked in the multiverse, and I wasn’t going to condemn souls to an eternity of torment.

  So, I pulled out my wand and let loose a fire blast onto the three spell tomes. They resisted the fire at first and I found myself pouring more mana into the fire. Ceorgi wands could only be powered by life mana, but I had that in abundance. The more mana I poured into it, the quicker I felt the flames breaking down the resistance in the spell tomes. Once they lit, they went up with black and silver flames and burned holes in the stone floor where I’d placed them.

  That left me with the ability book. I would have crossed my fingers hoping it would be better, but Identify told me what I was looking at before I even had time for a superstitious gesture.

  Golem Animation (Uncommon)- this Will based ability requires a crafting occupation and will draw some of its limitations from your occupation. It enables the user to create a golem from raw materials. The spiritual energy with which it is imbued will vary based upon the materials used, your occupation, and your aptitude. Note some golems can gain sentience or even sapience with enough time and or work. Duration: Permanent. Cool-Down: 1 day.

  Chapter 27- Working in the Lab

  I didn’t need to be told twice, as I gladly accepted that ability, adding it to my list of active abilities. The problem was that I was pretty attached to the three active abilities I had now and didn’t want to trade any of them out.

  “Can we take some time for me to test out this ability?”

  Samvek smiled. “So you want to train more before moving on?”

  I nodded, and he replied, “Fine, but you’ll need to follow my instructions. I’ve been curious about the strange occupation you got, so let’s see what you can do with it, but we can’t neglect your other studies.”

  I knew what that meant. Soon, I found myself practicing spells. The lab was already in such disrepair that it wouldn’t matter if I kept blasting bursts of ice into one of the corners. After about an hour, Samvek said, “Switch.”

  I went from practicing spells to practicing abilities. These were the things I’d put the least effort into, but now I got serious. I conjured a shield and then went to work trying to twist it up like those clowns making balloon animals. I was able to make some rudimentary geometric shapes fairly easily. The shield’s base form was a two foot by two-foot square, so making a rectangle, triangle, or even a circle wasn’t that hard. The more I tried to shape it the more effort I had to put into Shape Conjured Construct, but the ability was now at epic tier and my range of options was growing rapidly.

  After an hour, I could twist the shield into a spiral. Then Samvek ordered me to drill into the stone with it. That ended up being far harder than I imagined. I didn’t have a power ring or lantern after all, so I had to do this with just my own visualization and mental energy. Time ceased to mean anything as I worked harder and harder.

  At first I had to stretch the spiral out into the shape of a drill. Once I got that accomplished, then I had to get the hang of rotating the spiral. The tricky part was when I started to move it, the shape would lose cohesion. That was something new for me because I hadn’t ever lost a shape when I moved my shields around. It hit me though that the moving of the spiral felt like I was changing the shape not just moving it through space. That wasn’t true, but rather a trick of the eye as I rotated the spiral.

  Once I got past that obstacle, it was easy to speed up the spinning. At one point, I did have to stop to catch my breath and to allow my mana to regen, but Samvek didn’t allow me any longer than the time it took my mana to refill. Then I was back at it. After a while, I was able to get it spinning so fast that it was almost a blur. It took all of my mental focus to do that without losing the shape or having the shield twist out of my mental grasp.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t exert enough pressure with it to make any headway into the stone, so I needed a new tactic. That led me to sharpening the edge of the spiral to be more like a drill and refining the tip until it was very pointed. Both of those things took far longer than I would have liked. It was changing the spell shape and therefore the intent, and that added difficulty, but there was more to it than that. I could sense that…

  It hit me. A shield was about resistance. It was about holding back harm. Now, I was trying to use that shield for harm. I’d been able to do it in the heat of battle, quite effectively even if I did say so myself, but this was different. This wasn’t a life or death situation, no pressure, other than Samvek’s staring eyes. I was definitely using the shield for something other than shielding.

  The breakthrough came with a mix of frustration and exhaustion, my focus strained but also stretched to a fine edge by the relentless pursuit of mastery. The conjured force shield, now honed and sharpened into a spiraling drill, began to bite into the stone. The sensation was odd, feeling resistance through the extension of my will rather than my hands, a bizarre disconnect between action and sensation.

  I poured more energy into the rotation, visualizing the spiral cutting deeper, carving through the stone with each revolution. The shield vibrated with the strain, although I wasn’t sure how much of that was a reflection of my mental strain and how much was actual physical resistance. The shield was pure force after all, so if my will was strong enough, then it should be able to push through anything. I was the weak link, but determined not to let up.

  Sweat beaded on my forehead, not from physical exertion but from the intense concentration required to maintain the shape, speed, and now, the cutting edge of the drill.

  Gradually, a small pile of stone dust began to accumulate around the point of contact. The progress was painfully slow, but undeniable. I was doing it—I was using a conjured shield as a drill, bending the very nature of the shield to my will. The satisfaction of watching the drill sink deeper into the stone was palpable, a reward for the hours of effort and focus.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the drill had burrowed two feet into the stone. I pulled it back, releasing the tension in my mind and allowing the shield to dissipate. The hole in the stone was a tangible representation of my achievement, a physical mark of my growth as a mage. I still remembered Samvek’s caution that it was dangerous to build myself up around an item. It was my staff—now a polearm, which enabled me to conjure the shields. If I lost that, then so much of my build would fall apart. I pushed that worry away for now, though.

  Samvek observed the result, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slight nod, he acknowledged my success. "Good," was all he said, but coming from him, it felt like high praise.

  Rather than celebrate, though, he ordered me to sit. Then pulled out some rations. I preferred Nevin’s cooking but didn’t have that option now. “Eat, you’re not done yet, but I want you to relax. You have until your mana pool is full again and I want you to switch out your abilities for Magical Acceleration. It will let you keep pushing at this further.”

  I was surprisingly hungry as I bit into the ration. “Okay, but how long have I been working at this?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Fine, if he didn’t want to tell me, I could check my status sheet. It showed how long I’d been on the mission. Wow… ten hours so far. That took away a bit of my pride in my accomplishment.

  After a few more minutes, Samvek stood up. "Now, try directing two shields at the same time," he instructed, his voice leaving no room for protest. "One as a drill and the other floating around you in a circle."

  I was used to moving around more than one shield at a time. That didn’t seem like a challenge, but making the drill with less than my full attention. Well, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to complete it, but he was here to push me, so I went with it. Samvek hadn’t led me wrong yet.

  I started by conjuring the first shield, shaping it into the now-familiar spiral drill. The process was easier this time, my recent practice making the formation almost second nature. Then came the second shield, a simple disc that I set to orbit around me.

  The challenge wasn't in the conjuring or the basic control, but in managing the drill, which required more focus than anything else I’d done—while still allowing enough of my mental energy to go into creating the other shield. The drill needed to maintain its shape and speed, while the orbiting shield required a steady, circular path.

  I struggled at first; the drill losing speed whenever I focused on the orbiting shield, and the second shield wobbling erratically whenever my attention shifted to the drill. It was a frustrating exercise in multitasking, a mental juggling act that pushed me to my limits.

  But gradually, incrementally, I began to find a rhythm. I visualized my mana as a dual conduit, feeding energy into both shields in a balanced flow. The drill maintained its relentless spin, biting ever deeper into another section of stone, while the orbiting shield circled me in a smooth, unbroken loop.

  Once I got them both going, Samvek said, “Spin the shield the other way.”

  I groaned but visualized the change and then tried to will it into existence. Of course, that was the moment that my drill fell apart and the spiral unfolded. It was frustrating, but I didn’t wait for him to order me to begin again. I simply refocused and started conjuring a new drill.

  This exercise went on for hours. Even my enhanced Endurance was starting to run out of steam. My brain cried out for sleep while my body ached from maintaining this level of concentration, but by the end of it, I could spin not just one but two shields while focusing on the drill at the same time. There were now a series of two foot deep holes bored into the stone floor.

  Samvek watched my progress, his expression giving nothing away. When I finished, he simply said, "Better. Remember, the limits you face are often those you impose on yourself. Break them."

  His words were not warm or fuzzy, but they were exactly what I needed to hear. Under his guidance, I was being forged into something new. The question was would my family recognize me after this? Would anyone? Would I even recognize myself? And then the obvious: was it worth losing who I was to save the world? I shook my head. That was a stupid question. If I didn’t save Earth, then I would have been dead. So if I had to evolve, then so be it.

  When I didn’t say anything, Samvek added, “Now eat and then sleep. I’ll explore a bit, but don’t worry you should be safe in here. The lab is shielded from the rest of the zone and no monsters will be able to get inside.”

  I heard his words but didn’t respond other than to plop down on the floor. That was all I needed for now. I scarfed down a bit of food and then was out before I knew it. I had enough trust in Samvek that if he said I was safe, then I was safe.

  The sudden jolt of a boot connecting with my side yanked me from the depths of sleep. My eyes snapped open to the dimly lit confines of the lab, disoriented for a moment before my gaze locked onto Samvek standing over me, his expression as unreadable as ever. The kick hadn't been hard, but it was enough to stir a mix of irritation and adrenaline through my groggy state.

  "You sleep too soundly," Samvek chided, his voice carrying a note of disapproval that immediately put me on edge. "In the wild, that could be the end of you. An enemy could sneak up and you'd be none the wiser until it was too late."

  I pushed myself up, rubbing the spot where his boot had connected, a flush of embarrassment warming my cheeks. I knew better than to let my guard down, even in a place deemed safe by Samvek himself. Yet, the exhaustion had been too much, and I had succumbed to the deep, vulnerable sleep of the utterly spent.

  Before I could muster a reply or even fully orient myself, Samvek was moving, stepping back with a grace that belied his size. "Get up," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. "We spar now. Show me what you’ve learned with that new polearm.

  Groaning, I rose to my feet. My body was mostly healed back up from the strain and I was more than grateful for the amount of Vitality I had. Muscle soreness was never a lingering problem. Even a few hours sleep restored me fully. The groan was more about not wanting to be woken up like this. Yet, there was no time to complain or warm up. Samvek was already in position, his spear held in a loose, ready grip that spoke of deadly intent.

  The first clash came quickly, Samvek advancing with a series of probing strikes designed to test my defense and reaction time. I parried with my polearm, the weight and balance of the weapon familiar in my hands, a small comfort against the relentless assault of my mentor.

  Samvek moved like water, his attacks flowing one into the next, seamless and unpredictable. I was forced to retreat, my own strikes less about offense and more about keeping him at bay, trying to find my rhythm in the face of his superior skill.

  "Sloppy," he criticized after a particularly close call, his spear nearly slipping past my guard. "You're reacting, not anticipating. Think ahead, move with purpose. There’s a reason, I gave you that lightning crystal.”

  The words stung, fueling a surge of determination within me. I knew he was right; I had become too reactive, too reliant on the moment of contact rather than controlling the flow of the fight.

  We continued, the sound of wood striking wood echoing through the lab, a testament to our duel. Sweat beaded on my forehead, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I pushed myself to meet Samvek's challenge.

  Gradually, I began to adapt, to predict some of his movements and counter with my own. It wasn't enough to gain the upper hand, but it was progress, a step toward the level of skill and awareness that Samvek demanded, which of course only meant that he upped his level of effort just a bit and put me to shame again.

  Finally, after what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, Samvek stepped back, lowering his spear. "Better," he allowed, his gaze sharp. "But you have a long way to go. Always be aware, even in sleep. Your enemy won't wait for you to be ready."

  His words, though harsh, were not without merit. In this world, complacency could mean death, and I had no intention of dying out of negligence. I pondered for a minute if he meant the bit about always being aware even when I was sleeping. That raised some questions in my mind. Was it possible to do that with my new stats?

  My mind raced, but I only muttered, "Understood."

  I might not like it, but I needed to embrace this. Samvek's methods might be harsh, but they were effective. He was molding me into a warrior, one who could face the dangers of this world and emerge victorious.

  Dad would have been proud… That thought, even if it was out of left field made me blink in surprise. Growing up, I was convinced, I wasn’t suited for the Navy. He’d talked about the training he went through as a marine. How it shaped and molded not only his body but his mind. Now, well, I finally understood where he was coming from.

  Samvek turned away, which pulled me from my thoughts, then as he said, “Eat, clean up, then you can have some time to experiment with the things in the lab. See if you can infuse anything with one of your abilities. That is often a good beginning to crafting.”

  Chapter 28- Crafting and Singing

  I woke up with a couple of ideas. I wasn’t sure that I even would have considered infusing an ability into anything. Crafting in games had never been my jam. I had friends who swore by it, but then again one of them was the guy who picked up every copper that dropped on the ground in a game, so I couldn’t be sure that he was reliable.

  After eating breakfast, I walked around the lab, trying to keep an open mind. I let my senses roll out of me and focused on any mana that I could feel along with any trace amounts of spiritual energy. It was hardly a science, but I was sure that what I needed was inspiration. Then it hit me.

  There were things I could do that the rest of my team couldn’t do. Nevin said that many of the abilities I got for free as a Forerunner had versions available to non-forerunners, but that they were always highly sought after. Identification abilities were hardly rare, but most of them gave less information. Mine was on the verge of tiering up from basic to common. That would likely come with at least a minimal upgrade.

  So, I set out to use Identify upon everything within the lab. The ability would auto activate when I focused on anyone, but I wanted more control. I wanted to be able to activate it on demand. The base form didn’t require any mana, but I could push more mana into it to discover more about what I was looking at. That was the other key point. I needed to be able to gain more information about enemies.

  I started with the bone chips, pulling them from my spatial storage with a flick of my wrist. They were remnants of undead monsters, each chip carrying the echo of unlife. I figured they would be good targets since I already knew the monsters they came from. That way, I could look for more details while comparing what I already knew. I focused, pushing mana into Identify. The ability wrapped around the bone chips slowly. At first, it didn’t want to give me any more information than I’d received so far.

  Yet the longer I pushed, the more details I got. I had to move slowly with it, being careful not to push myself too hard or my head would start to throb. Patience hadn’t been a virtue I was born with. Taking care of my dad and then mom and Cece had forced patience onto me like an ill fitted coat. Then I got inducted and had a literal countdown running on the lives of every human. Meaning, all that effort to teach me patience, quickly fell to the wayside. So forcing myself to move slowly was harder than it should have been.