While Hruk toiled away, I practised my guitar and cooked with Tom's wife trying to change my mysteries. Unfortunately, neither of the relevant mysteries budged. Perhaps the system didn't think I was doing enough, or they had grown bored with me already. Neither Maka nor Boots showed up for a visit, either.

So, when no one needed me, I snuck off into the woods across the stream to practise the spells I had gained from Doctor Whoo. I didn't dare use Paralysing Cry in fears of attracting unwanted attention, but Updraft had proven its usefulness. It, along with Gram's Shadow Cloak, helped me gain decent height. Unfortunately, activating the ability took much too long and next time, I likely wouldn't have the three seconds to spare.

Tailwind had also proven its worthwhile fleeing the skinks. Unfortunately, I had seen Doctor Whoo use the ability only the one time and mimicking it proved much harder. Two days passed before I pulled it off, and the activation process didn't just take five seconds to activate, but consumed five percent of my total mana pool too. The cost wasn't an issue with my mana pool in its normal state. However, with Satchel Monster and my cloak active, I had little less that sixteen per cent of the total left. Hopefully, a future relic upgrade and ranking up Satchel Monster would reduce the sustained cost.

The system rewarded me with a couple of ranks for the daily practising.

Satchel Monster has progressed to Novice Rank 6!

Primordial Magic has progressed to Novice Rank 3!

A week passed after our arrival in Dil's Nook before Hruk produced a satisfactory working prototype. We activated it from a distance to be safe and the device came alive with a gentle hum. We hadn't yet put the sides on it yet, and could see the aether crystals rhythmically flicker within. The iron pot on top didn't melt and within three minutes steam rose from the water within. By the six-minute mark, it was boiling.

"You did it, mad lad!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around Hruk. He held me too, and we bounced around for a couple of minutes like a pair of excited schoolgirls.

"It was you too! All I did was follow your knowledge and your world's workings and adapted to fit with our magic. If not for your lessons and diagrams, I wouldn't have managed it, Perry!"

"I can't make heads or tasks of runes, though. I've studied them as you work. And it makes no sense to me. The fact that you took my layman's explanation and turned into this is phenomenal."

Hruk grinned, his cheeks reddening. “We better take the pot off before the water evaporates.”

Satisfied with the device, we built a simple switch system. Since we couldn’t expect regular users to use a rune-activation system, Hruk added a lever to the side of the frame. It controlled the link between the aether crystal and the magical circuit.

Finally, the time to show our device to the village came. People still smiled and waved when they saw us, but they made one excuse or another and hurried away when we asked whether they’d be willing to sit through a demonstration. They looked at me as if I was trying to sell them a timeshare. Tom had left the hamlet for the day for an emergency delivery to a nearby farm. It would take another couple of days to return. Even though his wife said nothing, she appeared sick of us, too. In the end, I turned to music.

Following some research, I had learned that a gleeman was almost no different from a bard. Any wandering musician, poet, or entertainer could be called a gleeman. To attract attention to themselves while travelling between settlements, they wore cloaks made of colourful patches. Meanwhile, historically, bards mostly composed verses praising heroic achievements of royalty, champions, and heroes. They adorned themselves in attire suitable for royalty. However, most used the terms interchangeably—or so the locals claimed, at least.

I had thoroughly washed and cleaned Gram’s cloak after arriving in Dil’s Nook. Majority of the patches had faded, losing their vibrancy, but some still stood out enough to grab attention. It didn’t feel like enough, though. So, I paid Tom’s wife for any handkerchiefs or random patches she had lying around. She took it as an opportunity to fleece me—according to Hruk—but neither realised that it was cheaper than buying a new cloak. The halfling woman gave me one dark blue, two shades of light blue, a bright orange, and even brighter pink.

Gram’s Shadow Cloak consumed them all.

Then when I poked a patch and spoke a colour, it transformed to match my command, appearing as good as new. I could’ve done the entire garment in a couple of minutes, but I spent close to an hour handpicking each square and trying different colours to create an eye-catching tapestry. It didn’t feature an image or a theme. Instead, I made a spread of dark blue shades interspersed with lighter shades. Then, for extra vibrancy, I sparingly dotted the cape with pink and orange. The radiating blue gradient helped them pop, drawing the eye.

“Holy spirits, Perry!” Hruk exclaimed. “That’s gorgeous.”

You’re well on your way to becoming a true bard!

By impressing the world with gorgeous, eye-catching clothes, you’ve unlocked a new mastery.

Fashion Mastery unlocked!

Fashion Mastery has progressed to Novice Rank 5!

“Thanks, mate!” I grinned. “Reckon it’ll work?”

“You’ll draw the children and women for sure.”

Hruk’s statement proved correct. The moment I stepped off Tom’s property onto the narrow alleys running between the hillock-houses, little heads poked out of windows and over fences. As I walked towards the main street, a small group assembled, following five meters behind us.

Following the fabled pied piper’s example, I walked while plugging Sasha’s strings. Hruk stuck close by my side, transporting the induction stove.

“Come one. Come all.”

I sang my word like a character out of a Disney film praising the big beefy male in the village. Hruk would’ve made an excellent Gaston.

“You’ve never seen a mage like the mighty Hruk.

Born in a storm and blessed by the mountain.

His spells and inventions make champions duck.”

Hruk dove behind the cart, playing along with my words, and a wave of chuckles passed through the gathering children. Their high-pitched laughs and my melody drew parents out of houses or peeking out of windows. “

“Excellent. Is he not?”

If he were just a mage monsters would flee at his name,

But the mighty Mage Hruk joined the artificer’s lot.

And boy, let me tell you, he’s here to help

With inventions that’ll help protect your little tot!”

By the time we were on the main road, the crowd didn’t just include children. I nodded to Hruk, and he made a show of ripping the tarp off the cart, displaying the device within it. It resembled a hot plate but lacked the metal circle on stop. Instead, we used a flat slab of sturdy local stone. Glass would’ve been ideal, but it would increase the products’ cost much too much.

Since we had the crowd’s attention, Hruk started the demonstration while I sang my nonsense song. During my second year of University, when I settled on Economics as my secondary focus instead of Theoretical Physics, a marketing psychology module had stood out as an easy grade. The professor had shared statistics regarding advertisements that used rhymes or catchy pop songs. They clung to television viewers’ memories much better than those that used just images or classical music. It didn’t matter whether the tune and lyrics were annoying or not, the objective was to get the words or message stuck in the viewer’s head. I opted for a similar approach.

“Excellent, Is he not?

Boil your water in half the time,

Don’t give it another thought.

Mage Hruk will protect your children.

Don’t worry about the gnomish lot.”

Elena stepped up when the water started boiling and took over. She explained to the crowd that she was sure the drinking water was making the children sick, and boiling would serve as an excellent preventive measure. Her words appeared to drive the point home. I hadn’t rehearsed my rhymes, and they were starting to get too nonsensical, so I left the pair to the demonstration and discussions regarding the health benefit.

By the time we finished, all but one family had agreed to share their copper, aetherite, and aether crystals. Much to my relief, the blacksmith offered his services for free, too. We’d have to provide the materials, of course, but that didn’t feel like an issue. The conversations suggested that the device’s convenience and the economic benefit of not having to barter for firewood appealed to them just as much as protecting the children.