Chapter 152 – Enchanting.

“These spells are a lot more difficult than the other ones…”

“Hah, of course! Spellcasting is only for the chosen few. I’m sure you now recognize my greatness!”

“Could I just be dumb…”

Rusty scratched his metal head while Aburdon hovered above him, mocking his struggles with even the most basic spells. Their friend Gleam made everything look effortless, but Rusty was having a hard time forming the spells in his mind, even when the diagrams were laid out clearly in front of him.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s probably because you’re still in your current non-enchanted form. Once you get your D-rank body, I bet things will get easier.”

Alexander tried to cheer him up, and Rusty nodded slowly. Maybe the Soul Forge couldn’t fully support his learning yet, or perhaps some spells only became accessible at higher levels. Either way, it was clear he needed more time to store the correct spell shapes in his mind. Once he successfully cast a spell, it appeared in his status as an ability, and he could recall it instinctively. The real challenge was casting it the first time.

“Maybe I shouldn’t waste time on this. Time in here is limited…”

He had already spent a full day trying to learn something beyond the basic orb spells. What he was attempting was a spell called ‘Darkness Bolt’, a variation of the mana bolt, but it didn’t seem to be working. He was limited to his two elements, and although they might eventually combine into something like twilight, he was currently unable to fuse them in any useful way.

“True. We still need to assemble the new weapons and armor variants. There’s also the summoning chamber. Maybe we should check that too?”

Alexander suggested they focus on crafting or summoning instead. Spells could be learned outside the Soul Forge, but this space was unique for forging and ritual work. They needed to make the most of the time they had left.

“Hmmm.”

Rusty paused for a moment and closed the book he had been reading. Two options lay before him, and he decided to start by exploring the new enchanting skills. The summoning ritual seemed to be a one-time event and likely came with its separate time limit. Crafting the weapons and armor sets was always the most time-consuming part of the process.

Before anything else, he needed to study the guidebooks, just as he had done in the past. Once he understood the material, he could begin experimenting with enchantments, possibly even applying them to his own body.

As he immersed himself in the reading, it quickly became clear that Enchanting was far more complex than it first appeared. The first step required learning a skill dedicated to engraving. Only by combining that with the enchanting skill would he be able to produce true magical effects.

Rusty buried himself in the books once again, this time focusing on the intricate relationship between magic and metal. Before he could begin, he needed to learn two essential skills. The first was basic engraving, and the second was a more advanced technique that involved using mana.

He moved to the designated crafting zone and picked up a fine-tipped engraving chisel. This was no ordinary tool. It had been forged from more than just steel as it was already infused with mana, much like his newly acquired D-rank body.

Rusty gripped the chisel with his metal fingers, its weight balanced, its edge sharp. Despite its slight shimmer of mana, he wasn’t planning to use any magic, at least, not yet. The book had been clear: before engraving with mana, he had to master the basics.

He took a flat sheet of standard steel from a rack nearby. It was unremarkable: cold, gray, and dull, but that was the point. If he could make the markings work here, then the mana-infused alloy of his future body would pose no obstacle.

“Alright… Let’s see how hard this actually is.”

The engraving table was cluttered with tools: chisels of various widths, clamps, stabilizers, and magnifying lenses mounted on flexible, jointed arms. Rusty placed the steel sheet on the workbench and secured it with the clamps. He pulled a diagram from the guidebook and pinned it to the corkboard in front of him. It showed a simple pattern for a magical circle meant to serve as a protective enchantment. He wasn’t ready to start on that yet. First, he needed to practice basic shapes.

*Screech!*

A sharp screech cut through the still air. Rusty pressed the tip of the chisel to the steel and made the first stroke. The sound was harsh, but he lacked sound-sensitive organs and continued without pause. Tiny shavings curled away from the groove. The first line was too deep and uneven.

“Tch.”

Moving to another corner of the plate, he tried again. This time, he worked more slowly, aiming for precision. The second line came out smoother and more controlled. Encouraged, he attempted a curve, but it turned out wobbly and uneven. Clearly, this was going to take more effort. Fortunately, he had weeks to practice. With each evolution, he could stay longer in the workshop, and he had begun to sense instinctively when his time was running short.

Rusty didn’t give up. Instead, he methodically shifted the steel plate and began again, focusing entirely on line consistency and stroke depth. It wasn’t glamorous work, but something about the harsh, gritty sound of the chisel scraping against the steel was… encouraging. Each pass taught him something new: how pressure translated into depth, how even the smallest tremor in his hand could ruin a line, how it was easier to carve outward than inward on a curve.

He lost himself in the process. Soon, the flat surface of the plate was covered in geometric patterns: lines, arcs, spirals. Some were crude. Others showed a glimmer of control. But Rusty wanted more than practice lines. He wanted something meaningful. He paused, then lifted the chisel again and began to carve something familiar: a shape resembling someone dear to his metal heart, Gleam.

The design was simple, an ant-like form with exaggerated antennae and a proud, upright stance. Rusty didn’t care about symmetry; he focused on intent. The strokes were firm but careful, guided by his memory of their journey together. Gleam, with her glowing carapace and strange sense of humor, had saved him more than once.

Line by line, Gleam’s likeness emerged in the steel. It wasn’t art, not really, but it had heart. Rusty stepped back and looked at it, visor lighting up in satisfaction. The process had taught him more than how to engrave, it had taught him patience.

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“Neat!”