"The last ingredient for the torch is coal," the Grey Wizard said casually, as though mentioning something obvious. "Coal that glows with a purple hue. It's easily found in caves. Once you have it, return to me and I'll teach you how to complete the torch."
Gael stared at him.
"Caves? Do you see any caves here, old man?" He gestured around at the endless stretch of trees and roots. "All I see are trees plotting to trip me and dirt ready to eat me alive."
The Grey Wizard burst into laughter.
"Hahaha, I am just jesting with you. You wouldn't find any coal out here. So—here."
He reached into his cloak and produced a small pouch, its drawstrings glowing faintly with a soft purple light.
"Is that a type of magic?" Gael asked, curiosity overriding his earlier frustration.
"Yes," the Grey Wizard replied, holding up the pouch between two fingers. "It is enchanted to increase the space within a pouch or bag. So a pouch that would normally contain a handful of pebbles…"
He loosened the drawstring, and the faint purple glow brightened.
"…can instead hold several tools, ingredients, and even a few weapons—without gaining any weight."
The Wizard winked.
"A useful little trick for someone who plans to craft their way through danger, wouldn't you say?"
Gael focused on the coal and stick in his hands. As he concentrated, a faint shimmer flickered across his vision—like a thin veil of light settling into place.
A translucent interface appeared before him.
Materials Detected:
• Stick ×1
• Coal ×1
Craftable Item:
• Torch
A light source created by merging coal with wood. Its glow slightly repels common monsters and keeps weaker creatures at bay.
A soft line of text appeared beneath the recipe:
[ Focus to Craft ]
Gael raised a brow.
"Just… think it?"
He imagined the coal and stick forming a torch—saw the shape clearly in his mind.
The moment he committed to the image, the interface responded.
Light curled around his hands in a soft spiral.
The stick sharpened into a proper handle, the Coal fused to the top, glowing faintly like a purple ember.
You crafted: Torch
Durability: 100%
Light Range: Moderate
Passive Effect: Weak Monster Repulsion — low-level creatures avoid the glow.
The interface dissolved like mist.
Gael stared at the finished torch, a slow grin spreading across his face.
"I didn't press anything… I just thought it into existence."
The Grey Wizard nodded, clearly pleased.
"Your gift of crafting responds to intent. Focus your mind, and the world provides the shape you envision."
Gael turned the torch in his hands.
"So this thing actually protects me? Even a little?"
"A little," the Wizard confirmed. "Enough to keep small monsters and lurking pests from troubling you. A shield… crafted by your own will."
Gael lit up—hopeful, confident, and amazed.
"Okay… this power is actually pretty awesome."
The Grey Wizard nodded approvingly, but his expression remained serious.
"Good work, but there is still much more to do if you hope to stay alive."
Gael's smile faded just a little.
"Right… of course there is."
As the sun descended, darkness ascended, creeping silently between the ancient trees.
The forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting.
Gael tightened his grip on the torch, its purple glow barely keeping the night at bay.
"Okay… what now, old man?"
The Grey Wizard's cloak shifted in the rising breeze.
"Now, you craft weapons to protect yourself."
Gael frowned.
"Hold on—why aren't you here helping? You can cast all sorts of spells. Wouldn't this be easier if you just blasted anything that comes close?"
The Wizard exhaled through his nose, amused but firm.
"Of course I can help you, Gael. If danger comes, I will not let you die."
His eyes glimmered beneath the hood.
"But I will not fight in your place. If I keep shielding you… you will never grow."
He tapped his staff once against the earth, a quiet reminder of his strength.
"My magic would solve your battles. Your hands, however, must learn to do the same."
Gael looked at him, half-frustrated, half-understanding.
"So you're saying I'm on my own."
"No," the Wizard corrected.
"You are guided, watched over, and protected from true disaster… but the work? The effort? The growth?"
He pointed directly at Gael's chest.
"That must be yours."
Gael swallowed, nodding slowly.
"Alright… guess I'd better start crafting then."
Gael lifted the torch, watching the shadows stretch between the trees.
Under his breath, he muttered,
"Does this weird interface even have any recipes? I have no clue what I'm supposed to do…"
Gael focused, steadying his breath.
As before, the faint shimmer appeared—his strange interface flickering into view in front of him, invisible to the Wizard.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning the blank-looking menu.
"There's gotta be something in here…" he muttered under his breath.
Then he noticed it—
a tiny book-shaped icon tucked into the corner of the interface, so faint he almost missed it.
Gael frowned.
"Huh… what's that?"
He concentrated on the icon.
The moment his mind touched it, the entire interface rippled—
and suddenly something opened in his head.
A magical book—a mental grimoire—unfolded in his thoughts.
The pages glowed softly, filled with diagrams, sketches, and handwritten notes written in a script he somehow understood.
Gael blinked in shock, whispering,
"…woah."
The book flipped a page on its own.
Book of Recipes
Torch
Light source.
Requires: 1xStick and 1xCoal.
Stone Knife
Cutting tool / small weapon.
Requires: 2xStone and 1xStick.
Gael stared at the glowing mental sketches, stunned.
"So you did have recipes…" he whispered to himself, half accusing the interface.
The Wizard glanced over at Gael's mumbling but didn't ask; he simply watched, letting the boy figure things out on his own.
Inside Gael's mind, the book pulsed faintly—
waiting.
Gael swallowed, the glowing mental book still open somewhere behind his eyes.
He flipped to the simplest page—the crude drawing of a stone knife.
Two ingredients.
Two steps.
2xStone
1xStick
That was it.
He exhaled in relief.
"Alright… looks like I'm making a stone knife," he whispered to himself.
"Back to the stone ages I am."
Even as he joked, a quiet confidence settled in his voice. The recipe was so basic, even he couldn't mess it up.
The mental grimoire pulsed softly, as if approving his choice.
The sketch sharpened, showing a simple wedge-shaped stone lashed to a wooden grip—primitive but functional.
Gael nodded.
"Stone and stick. Easy."
He scanned the ground, torchlight flickering across fallen branches and scattered rocks.
The Wizard said nothing, only watched him with calm expectation, letting Gael take the lead.
Gael tightened his grip on the torch and crouched to search.
"Alright… let's find a good stone."
The interface faded, leaving only the memory of the grimoire's pages in his mind.
Gael crouched low, the torch's purple glow sweeping across the ground.
After a moment of searching, he spotted exactly what he needed.
Two stones, each about the size of his fist, lay half-buried beneath a tangle of roots.
He picked them up, weighing them in his hands.
"Perfect," he whispered.
One for shaping, one for striking.
Next he turned to the log he'd broken earlier for torch-making.
A few leftover sticks jutted out from the splintered wood—thin, straight, sturdy enough for a handle.
Gael tugged two of them free.
"Stone and stick," he muttered.
"Simple."
Somewhere behind his eyes, the mental grimoire flickered open again, the stone knife recipe glowing:
• 2xStone
• 1xStick
A faint pulse of magic encouraged him onward.
The Grey Wizard watched quietly, saying nothing—
but Gael could feel those ancient eyes on him, measuring, judging, maybe even approving.
Gael took a steady breath and set the stones in front of him.
"Alright," he whispered, rolling up his sleeves.
"Time to make a knife… old-school style."
Gael set the stones and sticks in front of him, ready to craft.
He focused, letting the interface appear in his mind like before, the familiar 2×2 grid hovering in front of him.
He placed the stone and stick inside—one here, one there—but nothing happened.
Gael frowned, moving the items around, trying different combinations.
"…ugh, why isn't this working?" he muttered to himself.
Then it hit him.
The 2×2 grid was too small.
"I need… more space," he whispered, frustration and realization mixing in his voice.
He focused and scanned the recipe book to see if the thing he needed was actually there.
"It is," he whispered, a small surge of relief running through him.
Then, muttering under his breath, he added,
"Is this world… inspired by a sandbox game?"
The thing he needed—the crafting table—would give him the space to finally make the stone knife.
He stood up and looked around the forest floor, torchlight flicking across fallen branches and logs.
"Time to collect more wood," he muttered under his breath.
He bent down, grabbing thick branches from the nearby fallen tree, adding them to his growing pile.
"Stone and stick… and now a table to make space. Back to basics, huh?"
The Grey Wizard watched silently, saying nothing.
Gael felt the old man's gaze on him, but he ignored it, concentrating on the work ahead.
"Alright… let's do this."