Adrian lay in bed, still staring at the ceiling, his small fingers idly brushing the edge of the canvas bag. The faint clink of metal inside was the only sound.
Then —
> ‹ SYSTEM ANALYSIS COMPLETE ›
Materials identified: tin, copper, iron, steel wire, brass fragment.
A soft hum filled his mind — a familiar sensation now, as if the system's voice was coming from somewhere both near and impossibly far.
> Based on current materials, the following items are within crafting range:
The list unfolded before Adrian's inner eye — no glowing screens, just knowledge pouring into him, clean and clear.
---
> • Simple Copper Ring — Basic accessory, minimal value, can be enchanted.
• Crude Iron Knife — A small, poorly balanced blade. Can be used as a tool or weapon in emergencies.
• Brass Wire Snare — Primitive trap, suitable for small animals.
• Tin Whistle — Emits sound. Potential minor distraction tool.
• Basic Metal Charm — Decorative piece, can serve as focus for minor enchantments.
---
Adrian blinked, absorbing the list. His lips curved into a small, excited smile.
So this is how it begins, he thought, his heart beating a little faster.
> System Note: No blueprints provided. Crafting limited only by imagination and knowledge.
Adrian chuckled softly, the sound lost in the quiet of his room.
Alright then. Time to think.
But after a long moment of serious, focused silence, his brows furrowed again, and he murmured out loud —
"…But what should I make first? A knife? A ring? A whistle? Ugh… too many choices…"
He rolled onto his side, hugging the bag of scraps like a pillow.
"Why did I pick up so much junk…?"
And with that, the mighty regressed heir — the boy with a system and a second chance — drifted off for a quick nap, still clutching his bag of metal like it was a treasure chest.
The soft glow of dawn crept through the window, casting golden stripes across the young boy's room. Adrian lay curled up on his bed, arms wrapped protectively around his little bag of scraps — his treasure, his hope. His soft, even breaths were the only sound.
But inside his mind, the system was wide awake.
> ‹ SYSTEM BACKGROUND ANALYSIS: INITIATING ›
> Bent tin spoon... structural integrity: flimsy. Combat value: nonexistent. Perhaps good for stirring soup.
> Rusty iron nail... rust covers 40% surface area. Core intact. Possible structural base. Might last longer than a sneeze.
> Copper button... conductivity: low. Trace magical resonance (insignificant). Style rating: 1/10.
> Brass lantern shard... magic residue detected. Very faint. Conductivity: minimal. Might have been impressive... a hundred years ago.
> Steel wire... intact. Flexibility: high. Binding potential: acceptable. Could make a fashionable bracelet.
> Summary: Trash... or treasure?
> Potential Item Blueprint Generated:
"Blast Ring"
> Description: A crude ring formed of low-quality materials. Absorbs ambient energy (very slowly). On command, releases stored energy in a weak burst. Output: minor force blast. Durability: fragile. Recharge: slow. Potential use: utility, distraction, minor defense.
> Note: Despite low material quality, user's imagination and precision may greatly influence result.
> Recommendation: Proceed to forge at earliest convenience.
As the system finished its report, Adrian stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, the system's words still echoing in his mind.
"Blast Ring...?" he whispered groggily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
The excitement hit him a moment later. His small face lit up, and he swung his legs off the bed, still hugging the scrap-filled bag.
> Forge located: family workshop. Optimal location for crafting.
Adrian grinned, hopping to his feet. Alright, let's see what I can make...
Clutching the bag, he hurried out of his room, his slippers padding softly on the stone floors as he made his way to the workshop, heart racing with anticipation.
Adrian dashed down the grand hallway, sunlight streaking through the tall windows, glinting off polished stone. His slippers barely made a sound, his little hands gripping the worn bag of scraps like a priceless treasure.
As he reached the archway leading to the courtyard, a tall figure came into view — Sir Darius, the patriarch's most trusted knight.
A man of iron presence, Darius stood in his dark cloak, fresh from morning drills. His sharp eyes, like those of a hawk, immediately caught sight of Adrian.
And in that instant — time seemed to slow.
Darius watched as the boy hurried past, his soft hair shining in the sunlight, his cheeks flushed with excitement. The child's small frame looked so delicate, yet his steps were driven by purpose. The bag he carried clinked faintly — filled with nothing but junk, it seemed.
That look... That intent... Darius's gaze narrowed, his mind racing. This is no ordinary play. What are you chasing, little lord?
Time resumed its flow.
"Young Master Adrian?" Darius called, voice low but firm.
Adrian glanced back with a bright smile, his eyes sparkling.
"Good morning, Sir Darius! Sorry — can't stop! I've got something important to do!"
And before Darius could say more, the boy disappeared around the corner, heading straight for the forge.
Darius stood silent for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly into a smirk.
"Now that's unusual... and interesting," he murmured. His sharp eyes followed the path Adrian had taken, thoughtful.
What's stirring in that boy's heart?
The doors of the forge creaked open as Adrian burst inside, the warmth of the hearths and the rich smell of molten metal washing over him. The steady rhythm of hammer on steel filled the air.
"Young Master Adrian?" one of the craftsmen called, straightening in surprise.
Another wiped his brow and grinned. "Did you get lost, little lord?"
But Adrian didn't answer. His eyes sparkled with purpose. Without a word, he ran past them, his small slippers skimming across the soot-stained floor. He made straight for the nearest empty workstation — a sturdy forge that hadn't yet been claimed that morning.
The sound of his bag hitting the worktable echoed as he poured out his gathered scraps: bent tin, bits of copper, rusty iron nails, fragments of brass. The pieces clattered across the surface, catching the flickering forge-light.
The forge grew quieter.
One by one, the craftsmen paused in their work. Hammers were lowered, tongues of flame hissed, and rough hands rested on workbenches.
"What's the young master planning with all that junk?" one murmured, leaning on his hammer.
"Did someone tell him it's toy-making day?" another chuckled, though his eyes stayed on Adrian, curiosity stirring.
Among them, a tall figure stood near the back — a woman, her silver-brown hair tied loosely at her neck, skin pale and touched by the warm forge light. Her muscle-toned frame spoke of strength, her stance calm yet watchful.
Her keen gaze swept over Adrian as he sorted the scraps with small, quick hands, his expression full of focus.
What's this little lord up to...? she wondered, saying nothing, only observing.
Adrian stood before the forge, eyes shining with excitement. The heat of the flames kissed his cheeks as he reached out with both hands, wrapping his small fingers around the handle of a large smith's hammer resting nearby.
He took a breath.
I can do this...
He lifted — or tried to.
The hammer barely budged. Its weight was far beyond what his small body could manage. Adrian strained, his little arms trembling. His feet slipped slightly on the floor, and before he could stop himself, he stumbled forward—
"Whoa there!"
Strong hands caught him before he could fall.
Adrian looked up in surprise — right into the warm, confident gaze of the tall woman who had been watching him. She steadied him easily, a gentle smile on her lips.
"Are you alright, young master?" she asked, her voice soft, but with a strength behind it.
Adrian blinked, cheeks coloring as he gave a small nod.
The woman pointed at herself, smile widening. "Iriana. I help out here. Let me give you a hand, little lord."
Adrian tried to look up, to focus on her face — but his eyes were level with her chest, and no matter how hard he tried, that was all he could see at the moment.
"Uh... y-yes... thank you," he mumbled, quickly looking down at the ground instead.
Iriana chuckled softly and turned, grabbing a smaller hammer from the tool rack nearby. She offered it to him, the handle polished smooth from years of use.
"Try this one. Should be just the right weight for you."
Adrian hesitated, then accepted it with both hands. He gave it a test swing, and relief washed over him — the hammer felt perfect, light enough to control but heavy enough to do the job.
This is... kinda embarrassing, Adrian thought, his ears burning red as he tried not to think about how he must have looked struggling with that big hammer.
Iriana stepped back, arms crossed, watching him with curiosity and quiet encouragement.
"Let's see what you can do, young master."
Adrian, cheeks flushed from the heat and effort, wiped his brow with the back of his tiny hand. The newly crafted ring glowed faintly on the anvil, the cracked shard pulsing with soft light.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed a pair of tongs, gently lifting the ring and lowering it into the bucket of water beside him.
Hissssss!
Steam rose in a cloud, the cooling water hissing as it met the hot metal. Adrian watched, fascinated, as the glow dimmed and the ring settled into its final form.
The forge fell silent for a moment — and then,
Clap. Clap.
One by one, the smiths began to clap, their heavy hands applauding the young boy's work. Some wore wide grins; others shook their heads in amazement.
"Well done, young master!"
"Never seen a kid work metal like that!"
Iriana stepped forward, her silver-brown hair shimmering under the forge's light, her eyes warm with pride.
"What do you call it, young master?" she asked, crouching a little to meet his gaze.
Another smith chimed in, excitement in his voice.
"Yes! What artifact is that? What can it do?"
Adrian, still catching his breath, lifted the cooled ring gently between his fingers. He slipped it onto his small index finger — it was a perfect fit.
He looked at them, his lips curling into a soft, innocent smile that somehow made even the roughest of smiths feel a strange warmth in their chest.
"I call it..." Adrian said, holding up his hand, letting the ring catch the forge's glow, "Blast Ring."
The smiths echoed, eyes wide and curious.
"Blast Ring..."
"Blast Ring? Oohhh..."
"What's it do?"
Adrian turned his gaze to Iriana, playful sparks in his eyes.
"Let me show you."
He closed his eyes, drawing a slow breath. His small hand formed into a tiny fist, the metal cool against his skin. The ring began to hum softly, and a faint light gathered at his knuckles.
Tiny motes of energy sparked around the ring, swirling gently. The forge was quiet, all eyes fixed on the boy.
Adrian opened his eyes, grinning just a little.
"This will be okay for now."
He raised his hand, shaping it like a small finger-gun, and pointed it directly at Iriana.
"Blast."
Fwoooosh!
A sharp, focused gust of wind shot out from his fingertip, powered by the ring. It raced toward Iriana, catching her completely off guard. Her hair whipped back wildly, her long locks streaming behind her like silver ribbons.
Behind her, the blast hit a pile of loose materials — sending tools, scraps, and bits of wood clattering to the ground in a noisy mess.
"Wha—?!"
The smiths burst into cheers and laughter.
"Did you see that?!"
"It really works!"
"That's no ordinary child's toy — he made a real artifact!"
Iriana blinked, strands of hair falling over her face. She smoothed them back, a startled laugh escaping her lips.
"Young master... I didn't expect that," she said, eyes twinkling.
Adrian lowered his hand, beaming with pride but feeling a little shy at the attention.
It's not much yet… but I did it. This is just the start.
The forge buzzed with excitement, as the legend of the youngest craftsman in the mansion began to take its first true step.
As the forge rang with applause and chatter, a figure stood quietly in the shadowed corner near the great stone wall — tall, imposing, and sharp-eyed.
It was Darius, the patriarch's trusted knight. His silver-and-black armor reflected the forge's flickering light, but his presence went unnoticed by most. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the wall, observing the young master's actions with a gaze as sharp as a hawk's.
When Adrian fired the small blast at Iriana — when that gust sent her hair flying and scattered tools across the floor — Darius's lips curved into a rare smirk.
So the young master isn't just playing at being a craftsman...
His sharp eyes gleamed, proud yet calculating.
Leaning off the wall, he turned, his heavy boots making no sound on the stone floor. As he disappeared into the deeper shadows of the forge's entrance, his voice was a soft whisper only the cold breeze seemed to carry.
"The patriarch will be pleased to hear of this..."
And like a ghost, Darius was gone — vanishing in an instant, already on his way to deliver the news.