Chapter 12: Sparks in the Dark

Morning sunlight trickled through the wooden blinds, casting golden bars across the modest inn room. Jin stretched as he sat up, the pleasant smell of baked bread and morning stew wafting in through the slight crack under the door. From the other side of the shared room, Lyrderu groaned. Jin chuckled quietly as he watched his friend under the covers, the aftermath of last night’s impromptu drinking competition with Thaldrik the dwarf and Selwyn the elf now fully upon him.

* "Ugh... my head... what hit me last night?" – Lyrderu

* "Thaldrik’s dwarven ale and Selwyn’s elven wine. You accepted both challenges, remember?" - Jin smirked.

* "Next time," Lyr muttered with a raspy voice, "remind me that dwarves cheat by metabolizing alcohol with magic."

Jin smirked.

* "I think they call it a national trait."

After dressing and leaving his groaning friend behind, Jin made his way downstairs to the inn's yard. There, he swung his swords as if nothing had changed—whether in the depths of the forest or the heart of a bustling town. He kept swinging until satisfied, then made his way to the dining hall. The smell of warm bread and spiced eggs greeted him. The Inn Lady, a cheerful woman in her early forties with keen eyes and a habit of winking too often, greeted him with a bright grin.

* "Good morning, dear," she said as she placed a heaping plate in front of him. "Did you sleep well? Your Radiant types sure do glow in the morning."

Jin smiled politely.

* "Thank you. The bed was... surprisingly soft."

She chuckled, setting down a wooden plate.

* "You know... I have a daughter about your age. Strong girl, keeps the books. You might like her—very responsible."

Jin raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh.

* "I appreciate the offer, truly. But I think I’m not quite ready for book-balancing."

* "Shame," Maerla said, winking before walking away.

After a hearty meal and a short check-in with Lyrderu—who was still in recovery mode—Jin took to the streets, letting the crisp air fill his lungs. Willowshade buzzed with morning activity—vendors arranging stalls, adventurers polishing gear, children running around with wooden swords. It was peaceful.

He then found himself drawn to a district filled with the clang of metal and bursts of steam—Blacksmithing Street. Dozens of shops lined the path, most newly painted and proudly displaying their latest wares. As he strolled deeper, a thought returned to him—street lights.

The gentle glow at night, guiding paths and guarding alleys, had left an impression. They were commonplace in some parts of his old world, but here, even in a place as progressive as the Radiant Kingdom, the concept didn’t seem widespread.

* “If it’s not a weapon, it’s often overlooked,” he muttered.

Determined, he made his way forward. Bright signs, polished armor sets, and sparking enchantments decorated every storefront.

Until one did not.

Tucked at the very end of the street was a shop that looked completely out of place. The sign above was faded and partially fallen, soot smudged the walls, and one of the windows was cracked. Compared to the gleaming forges and runes all around, this place looked like it belonged to another era.

Intrigued, Jin stepped inside.

The air was thick with iron dust and old magic. Crates were stacked haphazardly along the shelves—strange contraptions, odd coils of enchanted wire, metallic cubes with runic grooves pulsing faintly. Some creations looked like weapons, others like twisted toys. One orb floated above a pedestal, softly humming, its light flickering erratically.

* “These aren’t weapons…” Jin whispered, picking up a small device shaped like a butterfly with glowing wings that flapped ever so slightly.

From the shadows at the back of the shop, a low snore broke the silence. Jin looked up: a burly dwarf slouched in a chair, nearly blending into the gloom, cradling a half-empty bottle. His beard was wild, speckled with ash, and his eyes were bloodshot—but sharp.

* "Are you the owner here?" - Jin stepped forward.

* “Huh? What year is it?” - The dwarf snorted awake, blinking blearily.

* “Still the same one as last night, I think.” – Jin replied

* “Well, either you’re lost or brave. Which is it?” - The dwarf squinted at him, then grinned - "You here to ask for a damn sword or another helmet with flaming horns?"

* "Actually... no. I’m here looking for someone who knows their way around mana-conductive materials,” Jin replied. “I’ve got an idea I want to make real. Something that lights up the night.”

The dwarf’s eyes sharpened, a glint of curiosity breaking through the haze. He leaned forward, tossing the mug aside.

* “…You’re not asking for a sword?”

* “Nope.”

* “Not a shield, either?”

* “No.”

Then, Jin continued:

* "I want to make something to light the streets at night. A pole-mounted fixture. Glowshrooms at the top. Mana crystal socket at the base—secure, but swappable. And something to conduct the mana—flexible, thin, strong."

The dwarf sat up slowly, eyes narrowing.

* "And you want to use... what? Copper? Steel?"

* "Vel’Aetherium," Jin said.

A beat of silence.

* "You’re mad." - The dwarf finally said.

* "Maybe. But I’ve seen its conductivity in enchantments. If we thinned it right—just enough to stay strong but bendable—we could shape the current through it. No rune overcomplications. Just flow."

* “Ha!” the dwarf barked a laugh. “Finally! Someone with a damn brain.”

He stood, brushing dust off his apron, then motioned toward a sealed chest under a workbench.

* “You want conductivity, huh? Lemme show you something. Name’s Grunmin Brumgar, by the way. Mad genius. Certified lunatic. Exiled from three guilds for refusing to make boring sh—stuff.”

He cracked open the chest with a tap, revealing chunks of luminous blue metal and jagged crystals that pulsed with raw energy.

* “Vel’Aetherium,” Grunmin said reverently. “And pure mana crystals. You won’t find better conduits in this whole region.”

* “This might work…” - Jin’s eyes widened slightly.

* “You bring the idea. I’ll bring the madness.” - Grunmin smirked.

After the dwarf named Grunmin turns the door sign from “Open” to “Close”, he led Jin to the room at the back of the shop where his furnace and anvils are – the workshop. There, Grunmin squinted at the blueprint Jin was sketching out on a worn piece of parchment he'd found stuffed between a cracked gear and a bent crossbow limb.

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Jin drew with swift precision, explaining as he went:

* “So—Vel’aetherium is naturally a strong Mana conductor, right? But what if we don’t just embed it into weapons or armor? What if we… thin it out? Like wiring. Not too thin, though—just enough to make it flexible, soft enough to wrap and run through supports, but still strong enough to take a few hits without snapping.”

Grunmin’s heavy brow twitched.

Jin continued, tapping the next part of the sketch.

* “Then here—we create a socket, some kind of containment ring with lock grooves. That’s where the mana crystal goes. Slide it in, twist, and it powers the flow. Easy to replace when it runs out. But hard to yank out unless you know how to unlock it.”

He glanced up, gauging the dwarf’s reaction.

Grunmin hadn’t moved much, except for the slow narrowing of his eyes.

* “Now the top” - Jin pressed on – “This is where we fix the Glowshroom clusters. Bioluminescent, self-sustaining for months, but we enhance the brightness by feeding them a steady trickle of mana—enough to amplify the glow but not burn them out. Vel’aetherium carries the energy cleanly to each node, like a street-wide nervous system.”

Silence.

Jin finally leaned back, unsure if the dwarf was too stunned to speak or about to laugh in his face.

Then, a low, gravelly chuckle rumbled from Grunmin’s chest.

* “Heh… heh-heh… BAHAHAHAHA!” The dwarf slammed a meaty hand onto the counter, startling a few of the odd contraptions on the shelf into toppling over. “By the Forge-Mother’s flaming beard! You’re madder than I am!”

He stomped over to the back corner, kicking aside a broken automaton wheel.

* “Vel’aetherium wires! Glowshroom lanterns! Socketed power cores! Flexible mana conduits!” - He spun around, eyes alight with the fire of invention long thought dead - “I’ve waited years for someone to say something so stupidly brilliant! Hells, I’ve dreamed of this—but every damn noble wants another enchanted sword or flame-spitting spear! Never once—never once—did someone ask how to illuminate a kingdom.”

He grabbed Jin by the shoulders with calloused hands and grinned through his braided beard.

* “Boy. You just earned yourself a place in my forge. Let’s make your dream ”

Grunmin was already digging through the organized chaos of his forge—if it could be called that. Gears, coils, tubes, and half-formed ideas clattered to the floor as he barked:

* “Don’t just stand there like a tourist, lad! Grab those glowing tubes by the barrel—yeah, those—mind the sparks! They’ve got a temper!”

Jin ducked instinctively as one tube let off a short fizz of mana discharge.

Soon, the workbench was cluttered with scraps of polished Vel’aetherium—metal so pale and laced with mana veins it looked like silver alive with lightning. Grunmin clamped one down and began hammering it thin, muttering through the rhythm of metal-on-metal.

Jin watched carefully, memorizing every strike, every angle.

* “We’ll need to test the conductivity. If we thin it too much, it’ll break. But too thick, and it won’t flex through the street posts.”

* “Aye,” Grunmin huffed. “But this ain’t some rust-bitten copper. Vel’aetherium bends like it's got a spine and a will of its own—fight it wrong, and it’ll bite back.”

Once they had a wire-like strand gleaming across the bench, Jin set to sketching the crystal socket next. He rotated the paper, drawing a locking ring with runic seals engraved into it.

* “We’ll need the seal to detect the mana type of the crystal. If someone tries to shove in a corrupted core, it should cut the flow.”

* “You want it to refuse bad mana?” – Grunmin asked again.

* “Of course. If we’re building this for towns and villages, we can’t risk streetlamps turning into mana bombs.”

The dwarf stared at him, and then gave a long, low whistle.

* “Boy, either you’ve lived two hundred years in secret, or your brain runs on something stronger than liquor.”

* “Let’s just say… I think about these things a lot.”

They worked well into the afternoon. Jin fused runes into the crystal ring while Grunmin formed the prototype pole out of reinforced darksteel, leaving slots for Glowshroom clusters to grow. Every now and then, the dwarf would pause, glance at Jin, and mutter something like “damn genius” or “finally, a proper use of my materials.”

By late evening, the forge was alight with mana-glow and heated metal. On the table before them stood a prototype: a sleek, single streetlamp, no taller than a person, glowing gently with bioluminescent blue and silver streaks.

Grunmin wiped his brow with a greasy cloth.

* “We’ll need to make it taller for real application. Anchor it better too. But… it works.”

Jin nodded, eyes reflecting the faint light.

* “Yeah. It’s only the first, but… imagine this across every road. No more torches. No more darkness.”

* “Imagine a world where every step’s a little brighter... thanks to a madman who walked into my shop.” - Grunmin chuckled, this time with something gentler.

By nightfall, the prototype was ready—installed in front of Grunmin’s dusty shop—secured in a reinforced stone base, with wires snaking inward and anchoring into a modified mana core socketed at the bottom. Glowshrooms pulsed softly along the head of the post like a crown of starlight waiting to awaken.

* “Ready?” Jin asked, glancing at Grunmin, who was still covered in soot and excitement.

The dwarf grunted, wiping his hands on his apron.

* “Ready to blind the gods if this thing works.”

Jin reached into the socket and slid in a freshly charged mana crystal, then twisted the locking ring until it clicked. The runes ignited—first in silver, then blue—and the pole began to hum.

A quiet shimmer… then fwoom.

Brilliant light poured from the Glowshrooms, washing the corner of the cobbled street in moon-like radiance. Shadows scattered, the area glowing so clearly that even the tiniest cracks on the stone pavement stood visible.

A few heads popped out from nearby shops. Then more.

Gasps, murmurs, wide eyes.

* "Is that... light magic?"

* "No mage is casting it... it’s coming from that pole!"

* “But it’s glowing! Like... real light!”

* “Is that a mushroom up there?”

A small crowd began to form, some shielding their eyes, others walking cautiously into the light like it was a holy miracle. Children squealed with joy, running in and out of the beam, while older craftsmen stood baffled, stroking beards and scratching heads.

From somewhere in the chaos:

* “Oi, is that Grunmin’s shop? I thought that place was dead!”

Inside Jin’s mind, a soft but unmistakable ding echoed.

[New Title Acquired]: Blacksmith Apprentice

You have forged not just tools, but vision. Your hands carry the wisdom of the forge. You can now create Uncommon or even Rare Tier Equipment.

[New Title Acquired]: “Mad” Inventor

Genius walks the line of insanity. You’ve created what others fear to dream. Unique invention gives more bonus stats.

[New Title Acquired]: First to Achieve a Wonder in All Veylashen

Your creation has sparked awe in the hearts of many. Your name will echo in history. Fame gain increased in all cities.

Jin blinked, a stunned grin spreading across his face.

Grunmin raised an eyebrow.

* “You look like you’ve just been kissed by a goddess.”

* “Not far off,” Jin muttered, still processing the system messages, then he turned to the confused dwarf – “Let there be light."

And outside, the street glowed on… brighter than the stars above.