The Ruin Guard's remains lay scattered across the obsidian floor like the components of some divine puzzle I was meant to solve. As I approached the largest intact section, my Eyes of Arcum activated without conscious command, flooding my vision with analytical overlays that transformed scattered wreckage into a blueprint of possibility.
[MATERIAL ANALYSIS INITIATED]
Mana-Conductive Alloy Plating: Rank SSR - Primary structural component with 97.3% magical conductivity efficiency
Runic Processing Core: Rank S - Central command matrix, severely damaged but power systems partially intact
Necrotic Energy Crystals: Rank SR - Death-aspected power sources, six units detected in varying states of decay
Aerodynamic Stabilizer Fins: Rank R - Flight control surfaces, minimal magical enhancement
Kinetic Weapon Housings: Rank RR - Blade assembly mechanisms with embedded acceleration runes
I knelt beside what had been the construct's torso, running my fingers over plating that still hummed with residual energy. The metal was unlike anything I'd worked with before, not quite steel, not quite something else entirely. It responded to my touch with subtle warmth, as if recognizing the magical enhancement in my hands.
How am I supposed to work with this without proper tools? I wondered, then stopped as something surfaced from the depths of my enhanced memory.
Primordial Technomancy. The knowledge was there, clear and complete, like someone had carefully filed it in my brain's reference library during those painful scroll absorption sessions. Ancient engineering principles that combined magical theory with practical construction techniques. The art of building weapons and tools that bridged the gap between technology and mysticism.
"How did I forget this?" I muttered, the memories flowing through my consciousness like water finding its level. "Ancient engineering principles... of course."
The solution was elegant in its simplicity. I couldn't create traditional blacksmithing tools from the available materials, but I didn't need to. My enhanced mana manipulation gave me access to something better, the ability to craft temporary tools from pure elemental energy.
I stood and moved to a clear section of the crypt floor, extending my hands toward the ancient stone. Terraspine mana flowed from my core, that deep earth-magic that governed metal and stone and the fundamental structure of the world itself. I could feel the power gathering in my palms, dense and solid and eager to be shaped.
An anvil first, I decided, visualizing the perfect working surface. Something that can handle the stress of shaping enchanted alloys without cracking.
The stone floor responded to my will, rising in a smooth column that broadened at the top into a traditional anvil shape. But this wasn't just carved rock, I could feel the Terraspine mana flowing through the structure like a circulatory system, reinforcing every molecule with magical energy that made it stronger than the finest steel.
Next came the hammer. More Terraspine mana, shaped into the familiar weight and balance of a master smith's tool. The head was perfectly proportioned, the handle exactly the right length for my enhanced reach. Pure magical energy held it together, but it felt as solid and real as anything I'd ever worked with.
Too bad these won't last, I thought as I tested the hammer's weight. But for now, they'll do exactly what I need.
For heat, I turned to Pyraflux manipulation, something I'd learned through painful trial and error in the cosmic forge. Fire magic coiled around my left hand, not the wild destructive force I'd used against Aldric, but controlled, focused energy that burned at exactly the temperature I needed to work enchanted metals.
I selected the first piece of Ruin Guard plating, a section about the size of a dinner plate that showed minimal damage from our battle. The moment I placed it in the magical flames, I knew this was going to work. The alloy didn't just heat, it seemed to come alive, the embedded runes glowing brighter as the metal reached working temperature.
The first hammer blow was revelation.
Not just the satisfying ring of metal on metal, but the way the impact sent ripples of therapeutic release through my entire body. Every strike drove away a fragment of the helplessness I'd felt strapped to Virelia's table. Each fold of the heated metal was a conscious rejection of the victim mentality that had nearly broken me.
This is meditation, I realized as I fell into the familiar rhythm. This is therapy. This is taking control.
The process was methodical, almost ritualistic. Heat, strike, fold, cool, repeat. With each cycle, the Ruin Guard's salvaged components transformed under my hands. The Primordial Technomancy knowledge guided my actions, showing me how to integrate the ancient alloys with techniques I'd learned in the cosmic forge.
[ENGINEERING PROFICIENCY ADVANCING]
[PRIMORDIAL TECHNOMANCY LEVEL 1 UNLOCKED]
[NEW SYNTHESIS PATTERNS AVAILABLE]
Hours passed in a blur of controlled creation. The magical tools held their form perfectly, the Terraspine mana maintaining their structural integrity despite the constant stress of heavy forging work. My Pyraflux flames never wavered, burning at the exact temperature needed for each different material.
The first weapon to take shape was something I'd never seen before, but somehow knew exactly how to build. The Aerolith Assault Rifle emerged from the larger sections of Ruin Guard plating, its core mechanism based on wind-bullet projection with a mana-chamber loading system that could fire either compressed air rounds or more exotic ammunition.
The basic frame was sleek and predatory, built for accuracy at fifty-meter range with backup systems that could handle closer engagements. But it was the three special barrel attachments that made me grin with dark satisfaction, Death Ray Modules crafted from the Necrotic Energy Crystals, each one capable of firing a single concentrated beam of the same energy that had nearly killed us in the crypt.
One use each, I noted as I carefully calibrated the crystal housings. Twenty-meter range in death ray mode. But that should be enough to ruin someone's day very permanently.
The second creation was more elegant in its simplicity. Cyclone Constraint Bombs, wind-cage devices that could trap enemies in spheres of compressed air. The mechanism was beautiful, Aerolith mana injection triggered by pressure plates, with a manual dial that let me adjust the power and duration.
Small cage, five-meter radius, thirty seconds duration, I calculated as I tested the mana flow patterns. Large cage, fifteen-meter radius, ten seconds. Perfect for crowd control or emergency escapes.
The final weapons were pure utility, smoke bombs that created both visual concealment and mana disruption fields. The concealment variants were straightforward, but the mana-disruption versions required delicate work with the Runic Processing Cores, programming them to emit interference patterns that would scramble magical detection.
Let them try to track me through these, I thought with grim satisfaction as I completed the final batch. Their fancy detection spells won't do much good when they can't see through magical static.
As the last weapon cooled from its final forging, I felt something shift inside my chest. Not the physical sensation of enhanced abilities activating, but something deeper. The helpless victim who'd been strapped to Virelia's table was gone, replaced by someone who understood that survival in this world required preparation, planning, and the willingness to use overwhelming force when necessary.
I have no choice, I realized as I carefully arranged my new arsenal. This world gave me none either.
The Terraspine tools were already beginning to crack, their magical cohesion failing now that my concentration was focused elsewhere. Within minutes, they crumbled to dust, leaving behind only faint traces of mana that would dissipate before the hour was out.
"Too bad," I muttered, watching my perfect anvil collapse into powder. "But I suppose temporary tools for temporary problems."
I gathered my weapons with the careful precision of someone who understood their value. The Aerolith Assault Rifle felt perfectly balanced in my hands, its weight distributed exactly how I'd intended. The Constraint Bombs were small enough to carry without encumbrance but contained enough compressed force to level a small building. The smoke arsenal would give me tactical options I'd never had before.
Each one crafted with methodical precision born from trauma, I reflected as I secured the last of the equipment. I wonder if Virelia would find the psychological implications fascinating.
The thought of her analytical face sparked fresh anger, but it was controlled now, focused. I'd learned something important in the hours of therapeutic creation, rage was a tool, not a master. Properly channelled, it could drive me to create weapons that would ensure I never again experienced the helplessness that had defined my death.
Time to find civilization, I decided, looking toward the crypt's exit with new confidence. But this time, I'm going armed.
As I walked toward the ancient archway, weapons secured and mind clear for the first time since my resurrection, I couldn't help but smile. Somewhere out there, Virelia was probably still trying to figure out what had happened to my corpse.
When I'm ready, I promised the empty air, she'll find out exactly what happened. Along with a practical demonstration of why you don't torture cosmic blacksmiths.
But first, I need to understand this world well enough to navigate it without getting killed again.
Which means finding people, learning their customs, and figuring out how to blend in without anyone discovering that I'm supposed to be dead.
Should be simple enough.
Probably.