Chronicles Of The Crafting Hero [REMASTERED]

Tyler screamed, his hands clamped over the sides of his head as he stumbled blindly through the tall grass of the monster zone. James rushed forward, his heart hammering against his ribs. The agony in Tyler’s voice was raw and visceral.​

"Tyler! Stop!"

Tyler’s hand lashed out in a blind panic. An explosion of force slammed into James's chest and launched him backward. His spine hit the trunk of a massive tree with a sickening crack.

James slumped into the dirt, his body going limp. His vision began to tunnel, the edges of the forest graying into a blur. He fought to keep his eyes open, and that’s when he saw it.

​Tyler was still standing there, his fingers dug so deep into his own scalp that his knuckles were white. But the tears were gone. In their place, a thick, black liquid rolled from his eyes. It was heavy and oily, carving dark, wet tracks through the grime on his face as it spilled down his cheeks.

​In that absolute silence, Tyler’s gaze locked onto James.

There was no more screaming.

There was only the look of a person drowning on dry land.

​"Please..." Tyler’s voice was a dry, jagged rasp that sounded like it was being pulled through a throat full of sand. "Help me."

​James’s eyes snapped open.

He sucked in a sharp, painful breath, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The room was silent, save for the rhythm of the rain hitting the roof. He stared at the wooden ceiling, the image of those black eyes still burned into the back of his brain.

​"James? What's wrong?" Lisa whispered, sitting up beside him.

​James groaned and pushed himself up, rubbing the grit of sleep from his eyes. His chest still ached where the phantom blow had landed. "Nothing. I just had a nightmare."

​"A nightmare? What was it about?"

​He looked at Lisa’s worried expression and forced a tired smile. "It's nothing to worry about."

​"Yes it is," she said. "Is it the same nightmare? Has it started again?"

​"No," James said, shaking his head. He looked at his legs under the blanket. "It was just a dream about monster zones. Nothing much."

Lisa reached out, grabbing James’s cheeks. "It’s not the tingling again, is it?"

​"No," James said.

​"All right. You wouldn't lie to me if anything's wrong, right?"

​"Of course I wouldn't."

​Inside, the lie felt like lead. *​I can't tell her the truth*,he thought. If she finds out that I've been helping Tyler grow stronger in the monster zones, she wouldn't stop worrying. She wouldn't want me to risk my life protecting that kid.*

He couldn't tell her he was risking his recovery for a kid she barely knew.

​"All right, let's get back to sleep. You need your rest for tomorrow."

​"Yeah," James said.

All right, let's get back to sleep, okay? You need your rest for tomorrow."

​"Yeah," James exhaled.

​Lisa settled back down, resting her head on his bare chest. Her dark hair spilled over his ribs as she listened to the slow, steadying thud of his heart. The room remained dark, but James lay there with his eyes wide.

*My strength is returning* , he thought, turning his palm over in the shadows.* But I don't think it's enough to go hunting yet. My mana hasn't fully recovered. One more day should be enough*

​He looked to his left at Heather, sleeping soundly beside them. A sharp look of concern crossed his face.* It's getting worse for her. We should be gone by next week.*

He pulled Heather slightly closer; she let out a tiny, soft groan from the movement and shifted against him.

​James finally closed his eyes. After hours of sleep that felt like only minutes, a sharp, rhythmic knock hit the front door.

James's eyes fluttered open. "Hello? James? You in there?" The voice, familiar and tinged with hesitation, belonged to Tyler. "Come in," James groaned, his voice rough. Tyler slowly pushed the door inward; it protested with a long, drawn-out creak. "Good morning," Tyler said, his voice a touch uncertain.

It was the first time Tyler had stepped into this particular room. He observed that it was a little larger than his own. The bed here was more expansive, and the sheets appeared to promise a more comfortable sleep than the ones in his own quarters. James was indeed there, lying on the bed, alone.

He sat up, pushing himself onto his elbows. "Good morning," he repeated.

Tyler asked, "Are you feeling any better?"

"A little, but I don't think I can go anywhere today. My mana hasn't fully recovered, and I have enough energy to go for a hunt."

"Oh, at least you're getting better."

"Yeah," James confirmed with a soft sigh.

"Where's Lisa?"

James replied, his voice flat. "She's gone. She took Heather with her."

"She went to the marketplace?"

"No," James said, his tone definitive. "She's gone to Lyria."

"Okay... I guess I'll get going. I'm going to do some training today."

"Alone?" Tyler replied, "Yeah. It's not too dangerous. I mean, monsters rarely escape after all. Plus, I was just unlucky that time."

Tyler turned, his hand already on the door knob. "Don't worry. I'll come back as soon as possible." As Tyler was about to close the door behind him, James called out, "Wait, what about my sword?"

"Oh yeah, Hector told me you can grab it once you're ready to go."

James sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "He obviously wants to scold me for losing the other," James mutterd.

"Probably," Tyler confirmed, a smile touching his lips. "Right, I'll see you later then. Bye." He closed the door behind him, the click echoing slightly, and let out a long sigh as he stepped out of the room.

The door to the living room swung open, and Tyler stepped into the bright morning light, his thoughts already a flurry of calculations. *My skill has leveled up. And I can craft common weapons anytime I want now. That means I can start selling...* A grin spread across his face at the thought, but it quickly tempered. *But I need to get a lot stronger to get the recipes.*

He needed to be able to hunt for the items himself. *After all, I'll just make more money. I can hunt and extract the items. Some of them I can use them to complete quests. I wouldn't have to buy the items like other craftsmen.* The vision of lucrative transactions filled his mind.

"I'd make so much money both ways," he muttered, his pace quickening as he envisioned the possibilities. "Not to mention that I can turn ores into ingots as well."

*Speaking of ingots,* a new urgency entered his stride, *I'll check on that lady once I get back. I just have to get back before sunset.* He weaved through the bustling street, his steps growing more rapid.

Tyler plunged into the bustling marketplace, a river of humanity flowing around him. The air thrummed with the cacophony of vendors hawking their wares and the murmur of a hundred conversations. He passed the ore shop. *I wonder how I can get the wood needed for the wooden bow,* he mused, his gaze drifting towards the edge of town. *Do I just find it in the monster zones? And even if I ran into it, I won't know what it looks like. Should've asked James or Hector about the Adas tree.*

He reached the transport station, a hub of hurried departures and arrivals. *Well, it's not really that far, so I don't think I should take a ride.* He made his decision, opting to walk through the main exit of Veridia.

The familiar dirt road, scarred by the endless tracks of frequent transport wagons, stretched out before him. He walked onto it, his boots crunching against the loose gravel.

Two guards stood sentinel on either side of the gate, their armor glinting dully. They seemed to pay him no mind. After a few more steps, a new surge of impatience struck him. *This is taking too long, I should just run there.* He broke into a jog, heading towards the training grounds.

He eventually arrived. This was the place where he and James would spar, the clearing that had become their makeshift arena. He leaned his back against a sturdy tree, its broad trunk offering a cool embrace. The shadow of its canopy enveloped him, a welcome respite from the sun.

His breath slowed, settling into a steady rhythm, but he felt no fatigue. His eyes narrowed in thought. *I just jogged for a straight five kilometers. If it was back then, before I came into this world, I don't think I could even jog that far without resting, and yet I'm not even tired.*

"Well, I'm here to 'get' tired, so..." he said aloud, the words trailing off as the familiar shadow of his leather boot vanished, replaced by the heavy, deliberate presence of metal boots.

Tyler exhaled, a plume of air escaping his lips. "Okay, here we go." He gritted his teeth, lifting the heavy iron. With a surge of effort, he moved his right leg forward, planting it firmly as it slammed into the small patch of green grass. He exhaled once more, his breath misting slightly, and then moved his left leg. Right, then left, then right again.

He was slowly moving away from the deep shadow of the tree, his form gradually emerging into the dappled sunlight. After twenty deliberate steps, his breathing had become ragged, and sweat beaded on his skin. He wiped a glistening sheen from his forehead with his wrist, the moisture catching the sunlight. "Damn, this is hard," he muttered, his voice strained. "It feels like I'm a G-rank again. Come on, I can do it. I just need to push myself some more. James said I have to push past the collapse."

Tyler's breath suddenly hitched, his eyes widening with a dawning realization. *Right, maybe I could use Rush.*

He looked down at his hands, remembering the sharp, painful jolt, the lingering aftereffect of using Rush previously. He squeezed them, a thought solidifying in his mind. *If I use it twice in a row, it will ignore the pain from the first one.*

His gaze then fell to the Heavy Metal Boots shining on his feet. *James said that these kinds of skills don't actually give me some kind of magical boost out of nowhere,* he reasoned. *Well, it does, except that it's just using my own energy, just putting my own body in overdrive, like giving me more energy and adrenaline so that I become more energetic and ignore some pain in the process, but when the aftereffects hit, so does the reward.*

A blue system panel abruptly materialized, hovering inches before his eyes. [Rush activated.]

Tyler's eyes flared with a faint blue light, then dimmed. He felt his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Raw energy surged through his veins, a potent torrent. His hair prickled and stood on end. The gentle breeze felt like a tangible pressure against his skin, as if the very air had thickened.

Even his eyesight sharpened, his pupils dilating to take in every detail. He drew a deep, gasping breath, then gritted his teeth and lifted his right leg higher than he thought possible, planting it forward. His left leg followed, then his right, then his left again.

They felt a little lighter now. *I have to use this to my advantage. This is only going to last for five minutes.* He moved his other leg forward, then another. He was walking, his pace quickening with each stride. *I have to do more than that. Every second counts,* he thought, the urgency a driving force.

His pace quickened and quickened until he broke into a jog, his breath growing ragged and heavy as sweat plastered his tunic to his back. He kept running, running, his eyes fixed on the tree ahead.

*Come on, I have to get to that tree before it's over.* But as he reached the halfway point, he halted, his teeth clenching together, his eyes widening as his body vibrated as if struck by a violent electrical shock.

He then fell, landing flat on his back. *Shit,* he thought, the realization hitting him with brutal force. The effects had kicked in. His muscles tensed uncontrollably, his legs feeling as though the muscles were on the verge of tearing themselves apart. They felt hot, hotter than they had ever felt before.

*It feels like my legs are on fire.* He drew in a ragged breath, grinding his teeth together until his jaw ached. He squeezed his eyelids shut against the searing heat radiating through his calves and thighs. *This is a bad idea.*

A faint luminescence pierced his vision. The system panel materialized in the air before him, The text hovered clearly: RUSH ACTIVATED.

The burning sensation dissolved instantly, leaving behind a phantom ache, a tight, restless coil shifting just beneath his skin. His muscles locked, the fibers pulled taut like stretched cables. He drove his hands into the dirt and hoisted his rigid frame upright.

*Okay. I have to reach that tree, no matter what.* He broke into a run. The heavy, metallic strike of his boots crushed the patch of grass, driving deep into the soil with every rhythmic stride.

*I unlocked this ability when I used my mana while running, but I wonder what if I do it again while Rush is activated? Will it be the same?* As he settled into a steady jog, he focused inward. The mana in his core stirred, a turbulent current.

He pushed the flow outward, directing it into his limbs just as he had done before.

Fused with the dark mana, the energy carried a suffocating weight. It moved sluggishly through him, thick and viscous, pressing outward from the inside.

The heavy resistance in his legs gave way, his jog smoothing into a fluid, escalating run.

*Whoa! It's working!* A faint blue luminescence bled into his eyes, casting a pale tint over his line of sight.

The wind tore at his clothes as his momentum surged. He forced the dense mana to blanket every inch of his body. Tendrils of the heavy energy pushed against his pores, attempting to bleed out into the open air.

The distance collapsed in seconds. The tree rushed up to meet him. Without breaking his stride, he slapped his palm against the rough, grooved bark, using the friction to pivot sharply. He sprinted back the way he came. The wind rushed past his ears, and the heavy, saturated energy pumped relentlessly through his veins, fueling a velocity that continued to climb.

Wind whipped his short hair backward, shaking droplets of sweat loose. The moisture sprayed into the air, trailing behind him as he ran. The rhythmic strike of his iron boots against the earth accelerated.

*It feels like I'm just running with normal leather boots now?* He reached the other tree within minutes and dug his heels down. His metal boots tore through the wet grass, churning up a deep, slick furrow of damp earth as he skidded to a halt.

He looked at his hand. It was slick with moisture, completely drenched in his own sweat. *This power feels incredible. I feel I've gotten faster, way stronger than when I normally use it.*

He curled his fingers inward, squeezing his hand into a tight fist. *But I'm not stupid.* He squared his shoulders toward the tree. *Because I spread my mana even more when I activated rush, the after effects are going to double. I can feel it.*

"But I don't have to think about that right now," he muttered.

He extended his arms, opening both palms wide in front of his chest. *I have to use this chance so that when they hit it'll be worth it.*

A streak of horizontal blue light, capped with a glowing sphere at one end, shimmered across his palms. The light solidified, and the blunt mace materialized. The solid weight of the weapon settled into his grip, pulling at his muscles, though he held it steady.

Small vertical bumps lined the steel shaft, providing a smooth, structured grip under his fingers. The circular head gleamed, reflecting the morning sun off its polished surface. He ran his palm over the metal. It was freezing and smooth to the touch, dense with the immense pressure of concentrated steel.

He gripped the shaft with both hands and swung hard to the right. The sheer momentum of the metal head dragged his torso forward, twisting his body further than he intended. *It's heavy. If my rush was normal, it would be heavier. And if it wasn't activated, I'm not sure i could even do that.*

He swung again, and again, driving the mace in every direction. He shifted his footing, dropping into the stance James had taught him. He gripped the shaft tightly, aiming the head directly at the tree. He hoisted the weapon high overhead and brought it chopping down in a vertical arc toward the thick trunk.

He halted the swing midway, arresting the heavy metal mere inches from the bark. *What am I doing? I don't know why, but I feel like this thing would totally shatter this tree. It sounds absurd, but I feel like it's possible.*

He backed away, taking two deliberate steps. "I'm going to need to rest here under the shade once the effects kick in." He resumed the drill, driving the mace vertically, lifting and dropping the heavy head in a continuous, grueling rhythm.

The displaced air from the heavy swings rustled his hair and flattened the short green grass around his boots. He kept swinging. Sweat poured from his hands, sliding down his entire body. His clothes were completely saturated. A deep crease formed between his brows.

"Am sweating a lot."

He stopped moving, his chest heaving. *And I didn't even come with water. I'm going to be super thirsty after this.*

"Well, I'll just have to endure."

He forced his arms up, swinging the mace again. Time stretched. Eventually, he let the weapon drop, pulling a deep, ragged breath into his lungs. "What is going on? Five minutes have already passed, I'm pretty sure. Ten, no, thirty minutes, maybe even an hour has passed."

"And still, it feels like Rush is still activated."

He mentally commanded his panel to display the stats. The blue interface materialized in the air directly in front of his face, completely devoid of text. The smooth surface violently distorted, shattered into luminous fragments, and vanished.

*No, not again. It's malfunctioning.*

His heart hammered rapidly against his ribs. He summoned the status again. The panel flickered into existence, its glowing rectangular border broken and incomplete.

It distorted and abruptly disappeared. "It didn't even scan me this time. I've confirmed it. This thing's broken." He looked down at his damp hand. He felt no exhaustion, only the faintest drag of physical fatigue in his muscles.

*So I'm going to be stuck like this for a while.* His eyes narrowed, and he muttered, "It doesn't matter what happens. I'll just use it."

He turned away from the tree, staring straight ahead. *James taught me how to use a sword. But what if I swing this thing instead? It's a basic weapon, right? Weapon mastery should be in effect, so I should be able to get used to this.*

He took a step forward, letting the sheer weight of the mace’s head pull his momentum. He dragged it upward into a vertical arc, abruptly halting the swing midway. The intense pressure of the sudden stop forced a sharp gust of air outward, blowing the dry grass flat.

He adjusted his grip and started swinging in continuous, heavy arcs. *I'm not using a sword.*

*Instead of cutting, I have to use this to break. To crush my enemies.*

He envisioned James standing directly in front of him. The muscles in Tyler's face tightened, his eyes narrowing. He drove the mace forward. In his mind, James brought up a sword in an upright slash to block the heavy head. *No, James is faster than this. I know it.*

Tyler swung again and again, visualizing the older man dodging and deflecting the crushing blows.

He imagined James sidestepping the mace, slipping past his guard to strike his exposed back.

Tyler ground his teeth together. In a violent blur of motion, he pivoted, driving the steel head backward, aiming right for the phantom image of James's abdomen. The mental projection distorted and vanished. Tyler froze. The physical toll caught up to him.

His chest heaved, pulling in ragged, desperate breaths. He let his eyelids flutter shut. "No," he muttered into the quiet air. "I still wouldn't have been able to hit him."

"Come on," he exhaled, opening his eyes.

He forced his aching arms up, swinging the heavy steel in an endless, grueling loop. Finally, pulling on the very last reserves of his energy, he brought the weapon down with a raw grunt. The metal head slammed into the earth. Damp dirt erupted outward. The grass was entirely obliterated, leaving behind a crater a meter and a half wide.

He staggered backward, leaving the mace embedded in the shattered ground. His breath tore through his throat in exhausted gasps, yet underneath the fatigue, the restless energy still surged.

He felt he could do more. His heart hammered wildly against his ribs, a frantic, rapid rhythm. Blood pounded loudly in his ears. Despite his prolonged exertion, the sun had shifted significantly, casting long afternoon shadows across the grass.

*I feel like I might die when the aftereffects kick in.*

He looked down at his feet. "Not to mention..." he rasped, *I've been wearing these steel boots this whole time, too. I completely forgot.*

The memory of the last time he used Rush surfaced, a mere five minutes of training that resulted in relentless, unmerciful agony. The complete, paralyzing inability to move a single muscle. *If I keep this up, my whole body will just explode at this point.*

*Yeah, maybe I should head back before it wears off. It's better if it hits while I'm at his house than out here. With my luck, another monster attack might happen.*

He shifted his stance. *But before I do that, I've got to check out my weapons first.* He extended his right hand. A silver spear materialized, resting heavy and cool across his palm.

*I have to test out that skill. Seven strikes, right?* He gripped the thick shaft with both hands, focusing his intent forward. As he attempted to pull on his energy, the system panel materialized in his vision, the text glowing a harsh, jagged red. Several of the letters distorted, but the message was clear:

[USER DOES NOT HAVE ENOUGH MANA]

Tyler straightened his spine, lowering the spear. "Right. Shit. I used all the mana activating Rush."

The red panel vanished. "But I could still get used to the weapon, even if I don't use the skill, right?"

He thrust the silver tip forward, then ripped it back and thrust again, striking at empty air. The sharp blade parted the air effortlessly, driving into different spots in rapid succession.

He stopped, adjusting his grip on the smooth metal.

*This feels dull. I don't really know any spear techniques.* He frowned. *I feel like I should have someone who knows better techniques show me.*

He reached back, scratching the nape of his neck. *Maybe I could just do it like in the movies I saw.*

Gripping the shaft tight, he thrust the spear forward with every ounce of his strength, leaping into the air as if the weapon’s own forward momentum was physically dragging him. He landed heavily, coming to a dead stop. A long, awkward silence stretched over the clearing.

*Yeah, that was stupid. What was I even thinking?*

The spear dissolved, returning to his inventory.

Finally, the bronze daggers materialized in his hands. The metal shimmered, catching the lowering afternoon sun.

He weighed the dual hilts, then lashed out, slashing the dagger in his right hand across his body to the left, following instantly with a rightward slash from his left hand. He carved through the air, testing different angles and motions.

Dropping his shoulder, he spun into a tight rotation and slashed downward, the bronze edge grinding briefly against the dirt.

He stumbled, his balance tipping precariously before he caught himself. *I almost fell.*

He stood fully upright, rolling his shoulders. "Not bad. I can easily get used to this. I think I might confuse the enemy if I'm fast enough."

He tossed both daggers straight up. He snatched the hilts out of the air as they fell, immediately stepping forward and spinning the blades in opposite directions simultaneously. He froze the motion. *That might confuse them, but it feels a little silly.*

The sun hovered close to the horizon, bathing the grass in its static afternoon light. *Well, I guess it's time to head back.* As he took his first step toward the town, the blue system panel snapped into his vision, the edges distorting slightly.

[CONGRATULATIONS. ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED. A WAY TO BECOME FASTER. WEIGHTS TRAINING. TEN EXTRA POINTS.]

Tyler stared at the floating text. *Wow. A whole ten points. Awesome.*

The panel vanished as he began to walk. "I'll allocate them later."

His walk shifted into a steady jog, and then he pushed off the ground, bursting into a full sprint toward the town. As the buildings neared, the heavy weight on his feet vanished; the iron metal melted away, replaced by the familiar give of his black leather boots.

He moved rapidly past the marketplace. The crowds of people were already thinning out for the evening.

He spotted Hector's shop and the ore shop across the dusty street. *I want to go tell Hector that my skill leveled up and I can start selling. I want to talk to the woman about that contract too, but I shouldn't. What if the aftereffects kick in while I'm in there?*

"I have to get home, and quickly," he muttered, lengthening his stride.

He left the marketplace behind, navigating the streets until he reached the house. He shoved the small gate open and stepped into the yard. A fleeting wave of relief washed over him, though his heart continued to hammer against his ribs like a trapped bird. The chaotic energy still surged violently beneath his skin.

He pushed the front door open. Heather stood inside, quietly chewing on small brown sugar crystals.

"Oh, hey," he said, forcing a smile. The child's large, bright eyes widened as she looked up at him in surprise.

Tyler took his first step into the house.

Instantly, the surging energy died.

In a fraction of a second, the crushing weight returned. A sickening sensation tore through his body, feeling exactly as though his entire skeletal structure had fractured simultaneously. A freezing, unnatural electricity violently seized his muscles, tearing the fibers apart from the inside out.

Hot liquid rushed up his throat. He vomited a massive volume of blood, the dark crimson splattering heavily across the floor, completely soaking Heather's bare feet.

The edges of his vision burned a stark, visceral red.

Before he could process the agony, the world collapsed into darkness. His body plummeted, crashing onto the floor right in front of her.

The last thing he registered before losing consciousness was the piercing cry of the small child.