Side Story: Falk at work

Having his mind split was still an unnatural experience no matter how many weeks went by but it was an advantage Falk could use for more than just controlling the homunculi his niece and student had left him with, letting him put to practice those other aspects that very day as he finished working on another band for one of the many who’d made their way to his factory.

He was valuable as the world's soulsmith for so much now that he’d reached that level of power, from the tools and weapons he could make to the enchanting factories he could produce and even more from there, but that day what was showing his worth was the growth he could provide to the people of the planet.

The same he’d given to the three back in Stonewall, he had the awakened of the world slowly trickling in from all over to receive an item that would boost their growth rates, usually taking the form of a bracelet and being made to the best of his abilities using his student’s enchanting system.

A system that was sure to cause any normal mind intense migraines from any attempt to apply it, Falk knew that from experience. Even doing it with his thoughts split was a pain that had to be put up with. The third wave sat on the horizon, it was important everyone used the time they had left to grow as much as they could and the part he was playing would help, even if he wished he could half-ass it and just construct the tools using the normal weave method instead.

Sure would be nice if I could take things a bit easier though. He sighed as he finished up the last he had scheduled to do for that day, accepting the thanks he was given and ignoring as they were led off, instead focusing on the fact that he could finally take off the accursed circlet that sat on top of his head to let his mind return to a far more normal state, even as he muttered to himself.

“Never going to get used to that.”

He had other tasks though so he couldn’t dwell on it, instead briefly rubbing his temples for what bit of relief it would give before walking away from his workstation to sit at a desk where a different headache waited for him in the form of a pile of his notes.

The world may have had its mythic and legendary items but regardless of ranking, there may have been nothing more valuable than the staff of a soul mage. The medium through which the most valued mages on the planet would cast their magic to both empower the people of the world and, if it came to it, inflict levels of death upon their enemies on a massive scale; and there he was, in charge of making them.

Something he’d actually done before. There hadn’t been many mages who could enchant with his level of death magic before he’d awakened which had made his work all of the more valuable and left him in what many would consider the enviable position of creating those great tools, but he couldn’t help but feel the weight of it. He was no longer making items that would be used before the war but instead the end of it, with his own philosophy when it came to the art of creation potentially more of a hindrance than anything else.

What he’d always believed and what he went so far as to make sure to ingrain in his only student was that a tool shouldn’t be made in a way that would hinder its user’s growth. There were methods that could give any staff or sword or spear some extra oomph when used but if it lowered the chances of a person gaining their levels then he’d normally never consider them, if not for the position they were currently in.

While it was hypothetically possible, third tiers almost never managed to level their skills. He may not have known how many ever succeeded at such a thing but the number had to be less than five throughout the planet’s history which meant worrying about their growth being impeded was silly to begin with. Why care about something like that for people who would never get to enjoy it?

Except the fact that it had happened in the past meant that it was possible, no matter how slim the odds. Did he dare risk missing out on the level of power one of them might achieve in exchange for the bit of a boost he could give them by compromising on his values?

But at the same time, it was a compromise that could save lives. It may have only been a small boost in comparison to what a level would be but he was weighing it against the strength of a third-tier skill, the increase in power he could provide would be incomparable to anything a normal person would ever see. Doing it could mean even more growth for anyone who’d enjoy the benefits of a soul mage’s magic, with the potential for them to help awaken more to their tier because of it. There were certainly people who were potentially verging on it, who was to say that the items he made couldn’t help tip them over the edge?

…Damn it all.

In the end, it wasn’t his choice to make. He had his opinions and his values but it was up to the soul mages to decide how they felt on the matter and that was exactly who would have to deal with the consequences of that choice, all he could do was present them with both options and with that he got to work, looking through his stores to see just what to put towards such tools.

With plenty to choose from. One of the greater benefits of reaching the third tier was that he was never going to be short on supplies, more were being shipped to his factory than he could ever hope to finish up, with rare varieties of materials and alchemic enhancers that he had struggled to get in the past even with the help of Pelenia now arriving with ease. He had the tools to create masterpieces and with his choices made, he got started.

Slipping back on the circlet, he began using it for its true purpose, bringing out his clones and using his many bodies to get to work, some grinding materials while others prepared the forges, arranging rare substances as they were weighed out and eventually folded into pounded sheets of metal under the ring of the hammers shaping them, with all of it coming together in a way he’d normally never manage as his main body did what only it could.

Magic couldn’t be cast through a clone so while he used the rest to work he used his mana to quicken the process, shaping everything he had and altering consistencies where he needed to in order to ensure nothing was damaged by the bite of the flame they were warmed under until eventually four new staves where made, leaving only the act of enchanting to finish them off.

That was where the greatest difference was going to lie in the end. While there were differences in the structure of the staves themselves, two would be getting the normal enchantments he would apply while the rest benefited from aspects of his magic he’d normally never use.

On top of everything else, pathways and buffs were built into the rest, his own soul spells added to enhance the power of their future wielders and ending with something he hadn’t expected. Products that went beyond anything he’d been prepared for.

It had only been a simple test of running mana through them to make sure there were no obvious problems but what he got went beyond the enhanced flow of mana he was expecting by a shocking degree, not taking long to understand the reason behind it.

The boy had shown him the enchanting modifier he’d found and Falk had been adding it to his work ever since, applying it to the new staves without any thought but immediately seeing the benefit of it was applying there too, for good or for ill.

Power incomparable with what he’d expected but in turn meant there’d almost certainly be an equal loss in potential growth to make up for it, he couldn’t help but frown as he looked those two staves over. No matter how much good they could do the world, it was never going to sit right with him to create anything like that.

But what I feel here doesn’t matter.

He was playing his role, no one could complain about that, so with the items made he left his factory with them all in hand, off to deliver them in person and to explain the strengths and weaknesses of both, letting their wielders decide how they’d be used.