After about an hour of experimenting with the various workbenches and crafting interfaces, one truth became impossible to ignore.
"I need more resources," I muttered, crossing my arms and staring at the rows of wooden stations like a general studying a battlefield.
Claire, now perched elegantly on a makeshift table with a cup of steaming tea in hand, tilted her head. "What do you mean by that, exactly?"
I turned to face her. "Well, you can see how I can craft anything I want, as long as I have the materials for it, right?"
"Yes," she replied, ever patient, her golden eyes tracking my every movement.
"And you saw how I needed that first craftbench before I could make the other workstations, yes?"
She nodded again. "I'm following."
"Some of those other stations, the ones for metalworking or alchemy, require materials like iron or glass. I don't have those yet. My crafting system follows the same logic as certain games from my old world, which means I probably need to process raw materials to unlock the next crafting tiers. For example, sand becomes glass, iron ore becomes ingots, clay becomes bricks, and so on."
"I see…" Claire said slowly, setting her cup down and steepling her fingers thoughtfully. "So to unlock more advanced crafting, you'll need to gather more base materials first."
"Exactly. It's a production chain. Before I can build better stations, I need the materials to make the components for those stations."
Claire smiled faintly. "That's a fascinating system. I suppose you'll need to start gathering soon, then?"
"Yeah. But before I do that…" I summoned my interface and began queuing up a few essential tools: a shovel, a hammer, a water pot, a knife, a pickaxe, and a spare stone axe—each made from simple materials I already had. Within moments, a soft shimmer of light appeared beside the craftbench as the tools manifested, one by one.
I held up the pickaxe and turned it in my hands. "Okay, tools first. Resources next."
Claire raised a brow. "Do you already know where to find them?"
"Some of them, sure. But others…" I shrugged. "That's where I'll need your help."
Claire hummed in thought, then suddenly stood, brushing off her robes. "Then let's make a list."
She disappeared into the chapel for a moment and returned with a small piece of parchment, an inkpot, and a quill. "Tell me what you need, and I'll write it down. If I don't know where to find something, I'll ask the mayor. Even if she doesn't know directly, she'll know who does."
"Alright," I said, organizing my thoughts. "First, I'll need wood. As long as there's a place where logging is allowed nearby, that should be easy."
Claire dipped her quill into the ink and began writing in elegant, flowing script. "Got it. Wood. What else?"
"Stone," I said, glancing toward the shed's rocky foundation. "If there's a place with loose rocks or an old quarry, that'd help."
"Stone," she echoed, jotting it down. "Next?"
"Sand, iron, and clay," I continued. "Sand for glass, iron for ingots, clay for bricks. If I can collect those five in large quantities, I'll be able to make a lot more."
From the side of the room, Cecil, who had been unusually quiet since the morning, suddenly perked up, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
"I know where you can get all five in one place!" she declared proudly, hands on her hips.
Claire and I both turned toward her. "All five?" I asked skeptically.
"Yup!" Cecil puffed her chest out. "There's a small lake about a kilometer into the forest. A river flows into it, and over the years, iron sand and clay have gathered at the bottom. The villagers used to collect them for pottery and smithing. The area's surrounded by forest, so there's wood and stone too. Everything you need, all in one spot!"
"That sounds… perfect," I said slowly. "What's the catch?"
Cecil's grin faltered. "Well, it's also a watering hole. For animals. And… monsters."
Ah. There it was.
She scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "It's great for adventurers who want to hunt, but not for, you know, non-combatants. I could escort you, but honestly? I'm not sure I could protect you if something big showed up."
Claire frowned, folding her arms. "Then we'd need an armed escort. But that would be expensive; too much for the church's funds."
I sighed. "Then we'll put the lake trip on hold for now. I can gather wood and stone near the village to start with. It's safer, and I already have an idea for my first project."
Cecil tilted her head. "You do?"
"Yep." I grinned. "But first, could you take me and Claire somewhere nearby where I can chop down a few trees? Somewhere safe."
She raised an eyebrow. "You want me to come too?"
"I promise it'll be interesting."
Cecil shrugged, her grin returning. "Alright, you've got my curiosity."
She led us out of the village along a dirt path that wound through a patch of light woodland. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, painting the ground in patches of gold and shadow. About two hundred meters out, she stopped and gestured ahead.
"This area's fine. Villagers collect firewood here all the time. No monsters, no problem."
"Perfect," I said, retrieving a stone axe from my inventory. "Now, Cecile, could you do me a favor?"
She blinked. "Uh, sure?"
I handed her the axe. "Try chopping that tree a few times."
Cecil frowned, clearly unsure what I was planning, but humored me anyway. She swung at the trunk.
Thunk. Thunk. Crack.
The axe broke clean in two, the head splitting and the handle snapping off. She stared at the broken tool in disbelief. "I barely hit it twice!"
I picked up the fragments, stored them, and pulled out another axe. "Now watch what happens when I use it."
I gave the same tree a light swing, not even using much strength, and a neat triangular chunk simply vanished from the trunk, as if erased by invisible magic. The tree didn't shudder or splinter; it just lost a perfect piece of itself.
Claire's mouth fell open slightly. "It… disappeared?"
"Exactly," I said, satisfied. "That's how these tools behave in the games my crafting system is based on. When I use them, the system interprets my action through that game's logic. When anyone else uses them, they just function like regular tools."
I swung again. The entire tree flickered, shimmered, and then collapsed neatly into a single, clean-cut log.
"See?" I said, storing the log in my inventory. "Game logic."
Cecil let out a low whistle. "That's cheating."
"Not cheating," I corrected with a smirk. "Optimized efficiency."
Over the next half hour, I collected a respectable pile of wood, chatting with Claire as I worked. She asked about my other tools, and I explained how the pickaxe would probably mine stone the same way the axe felled trees, clean, precise, and effortless.
By the time we returned to the chapel for lunch, I was feeling pleasantly tired but satisfied. The air inside was cool and smelled faintly of incense and old wood.
After eating, I stood up and dusted off my hands. "Alright. I think I'm ready to start my first proper crafting project."
Claire tilted her head. "Oh? And what will that be?"
I looked around the chapel at the worn pews, the splintered tables, the uneven chairs that had clearly seen better days.
"We," I said with a grin, "are going to replace all the wooden furniture in the church."
Cecil nearly dropped her cup. "You're going to what?"
Claire's eyes lit up in delight. "You're serious?"
"Completely," I said. "Consider it my way of saying thank you for helping me get started. And besides, it'll be good practice."
Claire clapped her hands together, her smile radiant. "The goddess truly sent you to us, Abel."