Sam spent the rest of the day making what she could. In the end she finally managed to level up her skills human-forge, mana hands, efficient crafting, and material identification to level 3. Her Item Creation and Accessory Weaver both went up a level, now levels 5 and 4 respectively. Along with her first two passives Material Manipulation and Waste Not Want Not, both upgraded to level 4.
{Ding! Your Support Class: Master Crafter has reached level 3. You now have access to the active skills:
Weapon and Armor Smithing – This skill allows the operator to craft gear. Obtaining this skill opens the Blacksmithing and Tailoring Workbenches with the ability to make cloth and leather armor. Advancing this skill improves quality and improves retention of the beast's or raw materials abilities that are used.
Mana: 35 | Cooldown: Variable.
One Size Fits All – This skill allows the operator to craft gear that Auto-fits the user. Armor is available in two sizes to conserve materials. Advancing this skill reduces mana cost.
Mana: 10 | Cooldown: 10s
And the Passive Skill:
Recursive Inspiration – Occasional idea sparks from crafting.
Mana-Forged Crafting – Extra bonuses from enchanted material use.}
"Awesome! Now I can make that armor. Hey Jarvis can I get a crafting report for the items I just made?"
{"Coming right up Sam"}
{Crafting Report
Items:
5x Wooden Bowl & Spoon Set
10x Wooden Spoons
10x Antler handled Kitchen Knife
3x Bone Needle Sets
4x Travel Pouches
5x Leather Bracelets
5x Foraging Baskets
4x Foldable Camp Stools
5x Cord Ropes
5x Beast Tooth Pendants
2x Cloth Floor Mats
3x Crafter's Starter Kit
3x Herbalist's Pouch
10x Travelers Kit
5x Ironstone Tinderbox
5x Wooden Stake Set
5x Ironstone Campfire Pot Tripod
5x Ironstone Pots
5x Ironstone Cups
5x Campfire Kitchen Set
Total XP Gained: 17,460
Potential Sales From Items: 39s 97c}
"Not bad for a day's work! Well half a day" Sam said
{"And that's not all…"} Jarvis said in his best game show voice.
{Ding! You've Leveled Up! You are now LVL 13, 15148/13013xp}
{Ding! +4 Stat Points, +12 Skill Points}
{Ding! You've Leveled Up! You are now LVL 14 2135/19420xp}
{Ding! +4 Stat Points, +14 Skill Points}
"Hot damn, level 15 here I come. I'm thinking we should spend a few days hunting and gathering resources, preferably heading west. Maybe check out the grasslands area. Though I'm concerned about the incubator. I don't want to just wave it here. Maybe I should talk to Mary, see if I can leave it with her. It's not like she has to do anything. What do you think Jarvis?"
{"That plan sounds good Sam. Also to alleviate some concern you may have. The property gate, once locked, has a protective enchantment applied to it. It's not a very high level one, but it will alert the city guards. So any product you leave behind will still be here when you get back"} Jarvis reassured.
"Well that's good to hear. I think tomorrow we'll head to the market, sell some things and then go join the A.H.A. and get some quests to do while we're gone. Then set out early the next day or so."
After using her mana hands to set her newly created item on an empty shelf, she headed inside for the night with her tames.
The next morning, Sam followed her routine. Daily quests completed, new stock bundled neatly into her inventory, she headed toward the marketplace. The cats stayed curled up at home, while Sunblaze remained content in her beast space—there were no open fields in the city to stretch her legs, and she seemed happier resting there.
Syn trotted along beside her, ears twitching as they crossed into the heart of the market district.
The plaza was enormous, alive with sound and motion. The air was thick with the smell of grilled meats and spiced bread drifting from the food court at its center. Permanent merchant buildings stood proud there, polished wood and bright awnings giving them a veneer of wealth. Around them sprawled a sea of stalls: some lining the road in orderly rows, others crammed in tighter lanes down the middle, a kaleidoscope of colors, voices, and bartering cries.
Sam claimed her spot and began setting up her stall. Syn plopped down beside it, golden eyes watching the constant stream of adventurers, merchants, and townsfolk. Once everything was arranged, Sam leaned back and let the crowd come to her.
While waiting she received a new Main Quest.
{New quest! Join the Adventurers and Hunters Association - Everyone can use a little help, plus you can't get into dungeons if you don't.
Reward: +XP, An Enchanted Item}
"Perfect timing"
It didn't take long before a young adventurer stopped by, hefting one of her compact campfire kitchen kits.
"Two silver?" His eyes went wide. "The guild store's charging eight! And that's just for a pot, tripod, and tinder box."
Sam gestured toward the bundled kit with a faint smile. "Mine includes a pot, tripod, tinder, plus a bowl and spoon set, and a knife. Makes cooking on the road easier."
The adventurer blinked, then laughed. "You're robbing yourself. I'll take two before you change your mind." He shoved the coins into her hand and hurried off, grinning like he'd just swindled her.
Sam chuckled softly and stacked the silver away, thinking if maybe she should raise her prices a bit.
As business carried on, a neighboring crafter leaned across his stall, curiosity plain on his face. "You're either a fool or a miracle worker," he said, nodding toward her display. "How are you keeping your prices that low? You've got Consortium ties, don't you?"
Sam arched a brow. "Consortium?"
The man frowned at her, as if she'd just claimed not to know what the sun was. "The Consortium. Merchants and crafters who control the flow of beast parts, rare cores, ores—you name it. Most folks can't risk gathering themselves, so they've got no choice but to buy through the Consortium or the S.I.S.T.E.M. store. Either way, prices keep climbing." He leaned back with a sigh. "Makes it hard for the rest of us to make a living."
"Ahh, well I gather my own resources," Sam said simply, pointing to Syn. "My primary class is a Beast Tamer so... a little better protected than the average crafter."
The crafter whistled low. "That explains it. No wonder you can undercut the rest of us." He didn't sound bitter—more impressed, though a little envious.
Sam offered a small smile and returned to her sales.
By the end of the afternoon, her stall was nearly bare. She'd made a tidy profit of around fifty silver and packed up with a sense of quiet satisfaction. Prices here ran steeper than in Crossroads, so she mostly browsed on her way out. Still, she treated Syn to roasted meat skewers and bought herself a hot bun stuffed with herbs before picking up a few groceries for home.
Just as she was about to leave the plaza, Jarvis's dry voice murmured in her head.
{Alert: danger indicators increasing in your vicinity. Nothing immediate, mind you—no assassins leaping from the shadows yet—but the local merchant class seems… shall we say, displeased.}
Sam slowed a step, scanning the cheerful bustle. Nothing stood out—just merchants tallying coin and adventurers licking sauce from their fingers.
{I should clarify,} Jarvis continued, tone maddeningly calm. {Several of those 'displeased' parties appear to be associated with the Consortium. You recall—the charming collective of merchants and crafters who manipulate supply chains to keep prices high? Yes, well, they're less than thrilled about your little display of independent enterprise.}
Sam's eyes narrowed faintly.
{To make matters ever so slightly worse, the Consortium enjoys strong ties to certain noble houses. Should your undercutting continue, you may eventually attract the attention of higher-status individuals. Perhaps even Lord Solaris himself. Won't that be fun?}
Sam muttered under her breath, "Fun isn't the word I'd use."
Across the plaza, a man in fine but unremarkable clothes quietly jotted her name into a ledger. He didn't look at her stall again as he drifted back into the crowd.
Sam, oblivious to the note but not Jarvis's warning, kept walking.
When she'd seen enough, she turned her feet toward the A.H.A. It was time to register.
Sam returned home briefly before heading to the Adventurer and Hunter Association. Tempy stretched luxuriously on the workbench when she entered, her fur sparking faintly with static, while Iggy darted across the floor, leaving tiny glowing pawprints that faded after a few seconds.
"Come on, you two," Sam said, securing her pack. "Big day ahead."
Tempy padded forward with all the dignity of a lynx-sized Voltclaw Cat, while Iggy, still no larger than a housecat despite her voracious appetite, leapt onto her shoulder and flopped down like a scarf. Sunblaze remained in her beast space—there was no point dragging a Courser through city streets.
Jarvis had gone quiet after his dry jab about Consortium notes, though a few crimson danger markers still pulsed faintly at the edge of her minimap. She tried not to think about those.
The road widened as she approached the Adventurer and Hunter Association's headquarters. Not a building, really—more like someone had decided the city needed a fortress in the middle of it. And then doubled down.
The outer bastion walls loomed ahead, their rough stone faces overlaid with enchantments that shimmered faintly in the afternoon sun. A second wall squatted just beyond—shorter, but thicker, with the kind of confidence that said: you could burn down the outer layer and we'd still be standing when the ash cooled. Banners snapped along the ramparts: the triple-blade crest of the A.H.A. in black and silver, flanked by the sigils of the sanctioned guilds. Guards patrolled the parapets—not relaxed, not friendly, just watching.
Sam adjusted her pack straps and approached the ironbound gates.
"Business?" the nearest guard asked, his spear haft planted squarely across the path. His gaze flicked down to her boots, then up again, taking in her worn but well-kept gear. "You're a bit young to be loitering around here."
"I'm registering." Sam held out her ID card, trying not to bristle.
The guard's brow rose. He turned it over once, twice, then looked back at her like she'd claimed to be joining the nobility. "Eighteen? Most don't apply until after the Academy. Twenty-two, twenty-three, at least. When they are level ten. You sure you're in the right line?"
"I can read the sign," she said evenly.
For a beat, she thought he might push it. Instead, he grunted, passed the card back, and motioned her through. "Don't cause trouble."
The second set of gates yawned open into a courtyard that smelled faintly of steel, dust, and oiled leather. Adventurers and Hunters passed through in small clusters, some heading toward the mission hall, others toward the training yards. Sam followed the flow to the reception hall, where a long stone counter divided hopefuls from the A.H.A. staff.
A middle-aged man in a deep green coat sat behind one section, spectacles balanced low on his nose. He looked up as she approached. "Application?"
"Yes," Sam said, placing her form down.
He scanned it, quill scratching as he filled out a ledger. "Hunter or Adventurer?"
"Adventurer."
He nodded, sliding a new set of forms her way. "For your understanding: Adventurers are licensed to enter dungeons. That means mapping, clearing, salvaging, and, most importantly, surviving the Rift's whims. Hunters operate in the wilds—beast culls, resource runs, caravan guards. Either path may accept quests from the board, but your designation affects training access, guild sponsorship, and mission rank advancement."
Sam took the forms, eyes darting briefly to the nearby adventurers in gleaming gear, laughing in easy camaraderie as though they weren't about to throw themselves into monster-filled labyrinths. Her grip on the quill tightened just a little.
The clerk at the registration counter pointed to a sign behind him explaining the rules with a crisp, practiced cadence:
No killing fellow Adventurers or Hunters.
No stealing cores, kills, or loot from other Association members.
Mandatory tithe: four of every ten monster cores turned in go to the A.H.A.
Additional infractions—such as causing property damage, assaulting civilians, or disrupting official hunts—carry fines or expulsion.
"Advancement is based on quests completed," the clerk continued. "Wood and Iron levels must complete ten quests to move up. Copper and Bronze, twenty each. Silver requires forty, Gold fifty. Your Association level also determines dungeon access—Wood for personal levels up to fifteen, Diamond for up to level one hundred. Anything higher…" He lowered his voice slightly, reverent. "Those brave enough go to The Lab."
Sam nodded, filing it away.
When her paperwork was complete, she received a small wooden badge stamped with the Association's sigil. Her citizen registration card chimed as it updated, displaying her new A.H.A. status. It also—helpfully, she noted—hid her Purple Tier, listing her only as Blue.
{Prudent,} Jarvis remarked. {One mustn't go flashing one's secrets about like a tavern drunk with his coin purse.}
Sam rolled her eyes.
"Any questions?" the rep asked, tone polite but efficient.
"No," Sam said, though her pulse ticked faster.
"Good." He stamped the form with the Association's crest and slid it back across. "Welcome to the A.H.A., Adventurer."
The tell-tale ding sounded as soon as the words left his mouth.
{Ding! Quest complete! Join the A.H.A.
Reward: +200xp
Reward: One B.A.G. Bag - Boundless Arcane Gear-space.}
Sam blinked. "Wait. Hold on. Did you just give me… a B.A.G. Bag?"
{"Affirmative,"} Jarvis said, tone smooth but amused. {"Boundless Arcane Gear-space. Guild-approved and fully functional."}
She squinted at the floating, shimmering container that had appeared before her. It was compact, magical, humming faintly with spatial energy. She could already sense the infinite space inside.
"Seriously," she said, crossing her arms. "A B.A.G. Bag. That's… redundant. Even for SYSTEM standards."
{"Technically correct,"} Jarvis replied. {"The redundancy increases efficiency. And, more importantly, it keeps things interesting."}
Sam grinned. She reached out, testing the edges of the B.A.G., and immediately felt the empty, limitless space inside. Perfect for storing crafting materials, tools, and anything else she might collect on her upcoming hunting trip.
"Fine," she said, still smirking. "B.A.G. Bag it is. SYSTEM, you win. I'll try not to lose anything… unless it's funny."
{"I'll hold you to that,"} Jarvis replied. {"Also, enjoy your unlimited storage. You've earned it."}
She drifted toward the quest board, scanning contracts, when a voice intruded.
"Well, well," drawled a young man in polished armor, his family crest gleaming on the breastplate. "A fresh Wood-level. Lucky you—I happen to be recruiting for my party."
Sam turned, taking in his smirk, his perfectly styled hair, and the cluster of women arrayed behind him. All of them were adventurers—at least nominally—but the way they clung to him told her exactly what kind of 'party' he ran.
"Kind offer," Sam said politely. "But no, thank you."
The lordling blinked, as though shocked anyone could refuse. Behind her, Syn's lips curled, a low growl rumbling in her chest.
{"Ah yes. Your companion has discovered the foul scent of entitled masculinity. Shall we let her enlighten the crowd?"}
"Apologies, my lord," Sam said smoothly, stroking Syn's head. "My companion hasn't yet learned the social graces of human society. Now, now, Syn. No matter how repugnant someone's behavior is, we don't growl at them."
{"Yes, yes, very diplomatic. Politeness with a dash of moral superiority. I do hope you realize how amusing you are to bystanders."}
A faint gasp escaped him, and a ripple of snickers spread through the adventurers nearby.
"I growl because he reeks of females," Syn's voice pressed against Sam's mind, blunt as ever. "If he seeks to mate, he should at least wash before flaunting their scent."
"Oh," Sam said lightly, loud enough for those close by to overhear, "perhaps he just enjoys a more feminine scent for his bathing products. Or maybe it rubbed off from time with his mother or sister."
"Not unless he fucks his mother or sister," Syn replied flatly, nosing toward the women behind him. "Turns out he's generous with his affections—they all smell like him, too."
Sam tugged Syn back, face twisting. "Ew, Syn. TMI." She shot the lordling a look equal parts disgusted and pitying. "Apologies again, but I'm not interested. Thanks."
She turned back to the board.
"What did the beast say?" the man demanded, voice sharp.
Sam sighed, tilting her head toward the ceiling. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes!" he snapped.
"Fine," Sam said, folding her arms. "She said you smell like multiple women. I suggested maybe it was your mother or sister's perfume. She said—" Sam let the pause hang, then delivered the blow. "Not unless you fuck your mother and sisters."
The crowd's laughter erupted, loud and unrestrained. His face went scarlet, and Sam raised her hands innocently.
"Hey, you asked. And her name is Syn, not 'the beast.'"
She returned to scanning the quest board while the lord huffed, stomped, and finally stormed off, his women trailing behind and grumbling loudly about not being "special" after all.
Sam smirked, shaking her head. Some days, her companions said exactly what she wanted to—but couldn't.
{"Congratulations. You have just publicly humiliated a minor noble without lifting a sword. Efficiency and style, I approve."}
"Thanks Jarvis."