Kael took another look at the hamr he obtained.
***
Brokk’s Hamr. (Incomplete set ½)
Tier: Legendary
Increased proficiency in tallurgy and craftsmanship.
Ability to repair any and all weapons.
Description:
A seemingly ordinary blacksmith’s hamr with a faint reddish glow along the handle. Though plain in appearance, it radiates the weight of a master artisan’s legacy. Simply carrying it makes every step feel monuntal, as if the hamr demands perfection from its bearer.
***
He lifted it in his hand and let the weight settle into his palm properly, not the cursed crushing weight it had forced on him in the corridor, but the honest physical presence of sothing made to endure.
The handle was plain wood, worn smooth in places like it had been gripped a thousand tis by soone who didn’t have the luxury of letting their hands go soft. The head was tal, dark and unshowy, the kind of hamr a blacksmith would toss aside without a second thought once the day was done. If Kael had seen it on the ground sowhere, among rusted tools or scrap, he would have ignored it. It didn’t look like it wanted attention. It looked like it expected results.
It looked... simple. That’s it, but for it to be able to repair all and any weapons. And allow a person to be more proficient in craftsmanship, those alone are worthy of the legendary rating. Not to ntion, this is but a part of a set. It’s missing another piece. But even as a part, it was still mighty powerful. Kael’s eyes lingered on the phrase incomplete set, and he felt that quiet, greedy itch that the Tower was probably trying to cultivate in everyone.
If this was only half, what was the other half? Another tool? Another rune? Sothing that completed the craft, or sothing that turned the craft into a weapon? He hated that his mind went there so quickly, hated that he could almost feel the Tower nodding in approval, as if it had just placed bait in front of him and watched him bite without realizing.
The rune on the other hand was the complete opposite.
***
[ᚱ- ᚪᚾᚳᚩᚪᚱ] -Anchor.
Legendary Rune.
Suppresses Mana Flow
Dampens Spell Output
Reduces magical volatility.
Description: A black pentagonal rune etched with ancient symbols that seem to shimr when viewed from different angles. Its surface feels unnaturally cold to the touch, and carrying it leaves a lingering sense of heaviness, as if invisible chains bind the bearer to the earth itself. Scholars whisper that the rune was created to suppress excess magical potential, ensuring that no spellcaster could outrun their own limitations. However none to this day know its origin or how it ca to be.
***
Even looking at the words made Kael’s shoulders tighten as if his body rembered the punishnt. He didn’t need to hold it again to recall what it did. It was heaviness without usefulness, restraint without reward.
The description dressed it up in scholarly whispers and ancient intent, but the function was blunt. It was a muzzle. A leash. Sothing created for the kind of people who had too much power and needed to be reminded they weren’t allowed to beco more than the world could handle.
With the forbidden tag removed, the effects of the rune remained the sa. Kael had thought that maybe even the main effects of this rune were affected by the Forbidden effect of the hall of Ulsal.
But now that it’s left the room, it’s still completely worthless for the onlooker. The idea that a legendary item could still be trash in the wrong hands would have been funny under different circumstances. Here, it was just another reminder that rarity didn’t equal survival, and that the Tower didn’t hand out gifts. It handed out problems and watched you solve them.
Runes, from what Kael had understood, were already weaker magic suppliers. Though they don’t need a chant to use, they are still far inferior. The sa energy that one would need to use a rune would cast a similar spell multiple tis over.
The inefficiency alone made his jaw tighten. Everything in the Tower was a trade, and this was a trade that felt rigged against anyone who didn’t already know what they were doing. People would see "Legendary" and think they were safe, think they had stumbled into a shortcut. The Tower would smile, silent as always, and let them chain themselves.
And not to ntion, once a rune is used, it’s permanent. Not like Kael understood how that even happens. ’It’s a rock,’ he muttered, ’How is it permanent?’ The frustration ca out more bitter than he intended. He stared at it like staring harder would make it confess its secrets. The Tower’s system windows made everything look clean and logical, but the actual reality beneath it was insane. A stone that rewrote your body, your mana, your future, with a single yes. Permanent. No undo. No appeal.
Just then, a notification popped in front of him.
[Do you wish to use [ᚱ- ᚪᚾᚳᚩᚪᚱ] -Anchor?]
"No," Kael replied.
He didn’t even let himself hesitate. Hesitation was how people ended up with chains around their ankles. Even if its legendary, that doesn’t an its good or beneficial. He doesn’t fully understand the aning behind runes, and isn’t interested in using them anyway. If he ever used a rune, it would be because he understood exactly what it did and exactly what it would cost. The Tower could keep its mysterious miracles. Kael had learned very quickly that the "miracle" part always belonged to the person watching from above.
---
Kael looked around. He was still inside the giant building, but instead of all the pathways being blocked and locked, one was open for him. It led to a door that had a green [EXIT] tag on top of it. The hall was different now without the forced urgency. The air slled faintly like tal and cold stone, like a place built to keep things sealed and separate. His footsteps sounded too loud when he moved, echoing in a way that made him feel like he was trespassing inside a machine.
Kael took a look around first, made sure that he didn’t miss any other exits or maybe entrances to another floor, before he headed toward the exit. He did a slow sweep, eyes tracing corners, cracks, seams where a hidden latch might be, because the Tower was not the kind of thing that left options obvious unless it wanted you to take them.
Seeing every path closed around him and every wall locked, he had nowhere to go but outside. But just as he was about to touch the door to leave, he realized one thing. That creeping sense he’d ignored returned, sharper now, like the back of his neck suddenly rembering it had skin.
He checked his map, and it revealed a great deal of red dots all over the building he was inside. The mont he was to walk outside, he would turn into goblin poop. The map didn’t lie, not in the way people lied. It just displayed the truth in little colored dots as if the truth were simple. Red everywhere. Too many. Clusters so dense that even if he killed one or two, it wouldn’t matter. It would be like scooping a cup of water out of the ocean and calling it victory.
"Shit," Kael muttered under his breath.
The word ca out quietly, swallowed by the stone. He stayed still for a mont, hand hovering near the door, feeling the stupid human urge to just push forward anyway, to pretend that montum was protection.
It wasn’t. The corridor had already taught him what montum did when it t reality. Thankfully, there was no limitation on how long he could stay inside the black building so he simply sat down and pulled out his inventory. If the Tower wanted him outside, it would have started a tir and lit up the door with threats. It hadn’t. Which ant the building, for now, was shelter.
Inside it, he had a couple of Soul Cores, one of which belonged to John. The fact that he could identify it that way made him grimace. He told himself it was just an object, just currency, just a resource.
But he still rembered the look in John’s eyes when the greed took him, and he still rembered the sound of tal slamming down, and those mories clung to the core like dirt that wouldn’t wash away. And his crowbar, a construction helt. And the bag he used to carry stuff in. The mundane items looked almost ridiculous next to "Legendary" anything, like props from a different life that had sohow followed him into a nightmare.
Unfortunately, items that didn’t have a window created by the system couldn’t be put inside his inventory, so he had to carry the crowbar inside the bag instead of his inventory, but the runes and soul cores, and even Brokk’s hamr were a different thing.
The Tower was selective in what it acknowledged. It treated certain objects as "real" and everything else as clutter. Kael hated that he was already adjusting his thinking around that, already planning his survival based on what the system recognized.
Still, sothing made Kael curious on how the hamr worked. Not curiosity like a child staring at a toy, but the cautious curiosity of soone who had just learned that tools in this place could save your life or break it.
He pulled out the crowbar, it was rusty and had a few dents, and one of its forked ends was chipped. He held it up and turned it in the dim light, watching the rust catch dullly, the chips looking like scars. It was a cheap piece of tal, a tool for prying and breaking and forcing, a thing that belonged to labor, not legend. But it was his. Familiar. Honest.
And since he had nothing else to do... Might as well try and repair this to pass the ti.
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