Like the great leaders of his home, Afinov stands still as an unyieldiinel. Below him is his daughter. A girl- no, a woman now. She hunches au with a stylus w in hand. He see her focus and the struggles of her body to withstand the rapid depletions of her mana reserves. A task normally easier for his kin, but not when they are so young.

  Even so, she tile, and struggle she does. The first three runes went without problem, but the fourth and fifth took far more effort and mana. If she’d stopped at five runes, she would have her level. But, like his wife, she strives to beat perceptions.

  The sixth rune is where advanced csses strive to master. It is the initial realm of exceptional quality equipment. A realm only the very best are capable of surpassing.

  Nearing the end of the sixth rune, he notices her body shaking. As maes, so does the ability to ma and trol it. With age, trol, efficy, and even supply will improve. Even so, she is almost done. She is at the final stage, and a single mistake will end in plete failure.

  When gemma are runeing, plete silence is expected so as to remove distra. It is expected that those present are to be watg sentinels. Emotionless work is thought to create the best and most numerous runes.

  It is what the great fe teaches and is what is only expected.

  But, during Afinov’s pirating days with his wife, what he’d found was that the best work he’d ever done was in passion. He remembers the warmth of the ship's fe, the creaking of the hull, the loud rambunctious noise of the crew, and the love of his wife's presence beside him.

  Going against all his training, Afinov raises his hand and pces it upon his daughter. “Do not relent. Focus. Persevere!” He ences.

  And like that, her struggles halt. The trembling of her body stop. With renewed focus, his daughter tihe final rune. Her strokes bee better, smoother, just as her grip is firmer.

  Without realizing it, the skin on his lips and cheek crack. Her hand glides the st bit of the rune.

  As soon as the rune is plete, her arm gives way. The stylus drops on the floor as would her body had he not held her in pce.

  “I,” she takes a trembling breath. “Did it.”

  With struggle, his daughter looks up at him with a relieved smile. Her eyes then close and she falls into dreamnd.

  Kneeling down, he picks up his unscious daughter and carries her to her room. He carefully pces her on her bed and theurns to the workshop.

  He looks at the item.

  Name

  Wolven Gau Of Fisticuffs.

  Rarity

  Exceptional - 6 Runes.

  3(1-Durability)1(1- Pierce Resist)1(1-Crush Resist)1(1- lightweight)Description

  This armor is +60% more durable, +50% resilient to pierg, +50% resilient to crushing, +40% lighter.

  Sustain

  0.06% Mana Regen per Minute.

  The gaus are thicker than normal, with the metal extending a bit farther thahe elbows end. With the primary titanium stru, lightweight rune, and a high strength of the wielder should make the metal adequately usable. The three durability runes alongside pierd crush resist should allow the armor to easily withstand even epic level equipment.

  Now, all of the runes are simple. They aren't necessarily plicated, nor do they take much skill to produce. But, six runes before being an advanced css is something only the most gifted would be capable of produg.

  “Enjoy your level.” He whispers warmly. He grabs the gaus and pces them on aable. Theakes the sed gau and pces it on the worktable. He then prepares for the day. He hopes it will be easier once she has her new css and skill.

  _________________________________________________________________

  Though you 't tell, Cilliao box when he was younger… and less plumper. He wasn’t the best or anything, but it ort he ehat was until he took too many hits to the head which caused a brain heme. He’d died in a hospital bed food minute befetting revived. Somehow, he left without any perma mental or physical injury. Regardless, he quit boxing and started a career in business after the scare. He vowed to never box again.

  But, that doesn’t stop him from watg.

  Quasi in his Fenrimorph form is airboxing like a professional in the workshop. Jabs, crosses, lead hooks, rear hooks, lead uppercuts, rear uppercuts. All of which he does with perfe alongside the weight of elbow length metal gauhat cover the scars on his arms. He swerves left, right, ducks forward, uppercut, jab. Somehow, even though the digitigrade legs are different from the humans, they seem to transfer more forto the punches.

  After five minutes, Quasi finally stops airboxing. He walks to cillian, removes the gaus, and gives them to the scott.. Then, in a puff of smoke, he turns into a cat.

  “Emma, the gaus are amazing! They’re weighty, but not too much. They also feel durable as hell. I love it.”

  Emma grins widely. “I’m happy you like them. It’s my first piece of exceptional equipment.”

  Quasi hops up on a nearby table. “Well, it feels exceptional. Speaking of which, did you get that level you wanted?”

  She nods. “Yes. I am now a level twenty seven [Ruh].”

  “You gaihree levels?”

  “I got a level from the first gau and two from the sed.”

  Quasi blinks. “ht. Well, good on you. Thanks for the gau.” The cat looks at Cillian. “Even so, you’ve spent like half a month w on the gaus without pay. So,” Quasi waves a paw.

  Cilliahe gaus on a nearby table. He reaches into a bag on his side. The bag jingles with the sound of metal. “I’m not sure how much it costs to make runes equipment, so I hope this would be an acceptable payment.”

  “Better be.” Cillian grumbles as he hands her a bag.

  Emma, surprised and curious, accepts the bag. She opens it to find two dozen Kilo-trists.

  “This is too much!”

  “Told you,” Cillian adds.

  “Hush you cheap scott. It’s not like the trist is ing from your iments.”

  “I’m supposed to be in charge of the money,” he whines.

  “Whiostly are, but not all of it.” Quasi rolls his eyes. “Seriously. You should be happy with the ine from selling the ons, armor, and the Immi Huntress. You should have plenty of io buy whatever trading good you want.”

  Cillian sighs. “I would if we didn’t o restructure the Timbergrove. That was surprisingly expensive.”

  Quasi blinks. “Restructure? The ship’s restructured?”

  The Scot frowns. “When was the st time you went ihe Timbergrove?”

  “Ughh, like, two weeks ago? Look, I’ve been busy hunting down the breakers and stealing their stuff.”

  Emma jihe bag in her hand. “Is this stolen?” she asks.

  “No,” Quasi answers. “It’s not stolen. It was just left behind by the deceased- actually. Don’t distract me. Cillian, what the fuck happeo my ship?”

  Cillian shakes his head. “That other ship, the Sedens Orbit I think its name was. Well, the ship's ons are too long and wide to fit the Timbergrove. Sard paid to have the gunports expanded. She also paid to install the ballistae on the ship. But the most expensive part is she pletely redesigned much of the ship's internals. The damn ent more than half of our profits!”

  “Ok… I’m fih the ons and the ballistae. Ballistae are cool. But why ge the internals?”

  “It was Myers' idea.”

  Quasi quickly rexes. “Oh, well, if it's him then it is probably fine.”

  “It was expensive!”

  Quasi waves a paw. “It’s fine. We’ll make due. Emma, thanks for the hard work. These gaus will really help me pete.”

  Quasi hops off the table. “Cillian, grab the gaus a's head to the ship. I’m kinda curious about the ges.”

  “When will you be leaving?” Emma quickly asks.

  The cat pauses. He looks back. “Probably in a week or two.”

  “Where?”

  Quasi shrugs. “Everywhere.”

  “Will you be heading near Lapis?”

  “The Gemma capital? Probably. Why the questions?”

  She pauses for a moment before answering. “I… I’ll tell you ter.”

  “Then you’ve got a week or two. I’ll be on my ship in the meantime.”

  Emma watches cat and Huma the workshop and the store.

  ________________________________________________________________

  “It’s red!” Is the first thing out of my mouth when my eyes fall upoimbergrove.

  The majestic vessel of before is less so now. From the sides, five le ons stick out like spider’s limbs. On the deck, a ballistae is installed he bow. It is a rge on of wood aal that nearly obstructs the rigging. Nearly impractical of a on, but there's something about having the bigger guns. On the side of the ship, metal ptes are strategically pced so as to give prote while not obstrug the ship's ability to maneuver horizontally or vertically.

  All that weight may be a problem.

  “The damn paint was far too expensive.” Cillian grumbles. “Any other color would have cost only a fra.”

  “So why’d they settle for red? Not that I’m pining too much. Red’s a nice color for the ship.”

  Cillian shrugs and tiowards the ship.

  “Apparently the paint has a special property to improve mana absorption. Myers said it should make the ship faster.”

  I blink. A grin rises on my lips. “Are you tellihat painting the ship red makes it go faster?”

  Cillian g me on his shoulder. “Myers says so. Why are you smiling so hard? It’s kind of creepy.”

  I pat Cillians head. “It is fine my uncultured Scottish servant. You will uand in time. For now, walk faster.”

  _______________________________________________________________

  Emma ehe workshop and finds her father grinding down a ruby so as to use the powder for runeing. o him are several vials filled with the powder of various other crystals. A rge number, far more than they usually keep on hand.

  “Dad, I want to talk to you about something. Is this a good time?” She asks.

  His head turns to her and her eyes meet his. What she finds is sadness aermination.

  “You wish to leave.”

  “How did you-”

  “Your mother did the same when she was ye. She left her home, her friend, her family. All for freedom and adventure. I already tell you are the same.”

  “I want to level. I want to see my mother. I pn on asking Quasi to join his crew.”

  “He already said yes.”

  Emma pauses in surprise. “He did? When?”

  Her father tinues grinding. “Before Quasi left with the short humaold me that if you want, he would allow you to join his crew.”

  “And you’re not against this?” She asks, surprised.

  “I am saddened, but a fme must breathe to grow stronger. You will level faster aboard his ship.” He stops grinding and pours the dust into o vial. Then he points in the er of the room where several rge tainers are stacked. “I put your mothers equipment including materials you may o tinue leveling.” He grabs the vials of dust, puts them in a bag, and then carries the bag to the tainer. “Grab whatever you wish t with you from your room. I reend spare clothes. Few ships have a way to wash oneself.”

  He pces the bag down. “When you are ready, bring the cart from the back to the front. We’ll load everything up ao the pier.”

  “I… Thank you, dad.”

  “Do not waste time. Go. I do not not know how long the cat will wait.”

  “Yes!” she rushes out of the workshop.