A sneer came from Monarch Orson.
But I wasn’t particularly offended.
Because it was true—my creation looked pathetic.
‘This isn’t easy.’
While I wore a bitter expression, Professor Hephaestus spoke up.
“Eriol Valencia.”
“Yes, Professor.”
“What is this?”
“It’s a glove.”
“I can see that.”
A glove.
That’s what I had made out of slime.
“What the heck is that?”
“You don’t know? It’s a glove made from rubber tree sap.”
“It stretches well and doesn’t get soaked in water, so people use it for washing dishes or doing laundry.”
“Wait, how would we know what’s used for dishwashing or laundry?”
The other students murmured among themselves.
Many of the academy students came from noble families, so it wasn’t surprising that they were unfamiliar with such items.
“So Eriol made something used for chores like dishwashing or laundry?”
“But why? We don’t do chores. We eat at the cafeteria and the laundry gets done by the machines.”
“Well, who knows? Maybe he needs it for a part-time job or something.”
The students kept chatting noisily, but Hephaestus silently examined the glove I had made.
“The shape is crude.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You’ve never actually used a glove made of rubber resin, have you?”
“That’s correct.”
“This pathetic-looking thing—no one would take it even if it were free.”
It was a harsh critique.
But I had no grounds to argue.
“I can guess why you tried to make something like this.”
Hephaestus continued in a calm tone.
“Was it the November issue last year? The article in Ars Magazine.”
Of course. He saw right through it.
“A protective glove made from slime material for magic use… that’s what you were trying to make, wasn’t it?”
I nodded honestly.
“Yes, sir.”
When we were given the experimental slime—
The first thing that popped into my mind was an article I read in last year’s Ars Magazine.
That magazine regularly featured inventions from the Academy’s Production Department, and in the November issue, they had showcased a protective glove made from slime material.
“Protective glove?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
As the students murmured in confusion, Hephaestus replied coldly.
“Do you know where mages most frequently get injured?”
“…?”
“Their hands.”
Hephaestus raised his right hand.
It was a hand covered in countless scars.
“Magic is generally cast from a mage’s hands. But when casting fails, things like explosions can occur.”
“Ah…”
“And during battle, mages often extend their hands forward, making them especially prone to injury. Back in the day, we used staffs to solve this, but these days? Carrying a mage’s staff looks outdated and ridiculous. So for a long time, we’ve been researching gloves to protect our hands.”
He lightly shook his hand as he spoke.
“The problem is, not just any glove will do. The material has to withstand various forms of magic without interfering with spells or causing unintended effects. It also can’t be too thick or stiff, or it’ll hinder focus… And finding a material that fits all that? Not easy.”
For example, take the gloves made from rubber tree sap mentioned earlier.
They have various strengths.
But if exposed to fire, they melt and stick to the skin, leading to severe burns—worse than if you’d worn nothing at all.
“That’s why the Academy has recently been researching protective gloves made from slime materials—ones that allow safe spellcasting in any situation. As you can tell from the experimental slime we gave you today, slime is easy to reconfigure with different formulas.”
With that, Hephaestus picked up the glove I’d made.
“Not that it should look this sloppy.”
“My apologies…”
The article hadn’t included an illustration, so it was hard to picture it.
That’s why I just imagined it in the form of a typical rubber glove used for chores.
“But still.”
Hephaestus put on the glove.
And then… conjured flames.
“Gasp…!”
Several students recoiled in shock.
But the flames didn’t spread.
They simply flickered atop Hephaestus’s hand—or more precisely, on the glove I had made.
“The heat resistance is solid.”
“…!”
The students gasped.
Even with his hand seemingly engulfed in flames, Hephaestus didn’t so much as flinch.
“Many people assume slimes are weak to fire, but that only applies to certain subspecies without flame resistance. The slime used today? Fireproof.”
“Ah…”
“Of course, if the structure of the glove had been poorly made, the heat would have seeped through the gaps and burned my hand.”
“Professor, does that mean…?”
“The shape was shabby. But…”
Hephaestus extinguished the flame and removed the glove.
“The performance was solid.”
The room buzzed with astonishment.
“This is something I was planning to cover in the next class, but I’ll tell you now.”
Hephaestus glanced around at the other students.
“What we aim to make through magic is not a beautiful work of art. It’s a magical item meant for practical use.”
“…!”
“When you make something, think about how it will be used. And then, imagine a structure that maximizes that utility.”
He held up the glove again.
“This glove might look awful, but it’s made of multiple layers that block heat effectively. In other words, Eriol Valencia focused more on the internal structure than the external appearance.”
Hephaestus had nailed it.
We were given a chance to use slime as a material, and I remembered that article from the magazine—I wanted to try making a protective glove.
I had no idea what kinds of formulas were required for such a thing.
But at the very least, I wanted to craft a believable internal structure.
Not just the outer shape—I figured I could manipulate the internal configuration too.
For some reason, I could easily grasp the spell embedded in this experimental slime—“a formula that alters its shape based on human thought-waves.” That’s what made this possible.
“Of course, I’m not expecting you all to be at this level just yet.”
Hephaestus spoke calmly to the class.
“Take things step by step, and build up your skills gradually. We professors are here to help you do just that.”
After the lecture ended, the students left the classroom in small groups to eat lunch.
I was about to head to the cafeteria with the usual group I hung out with, but then Monarch brushed past me.
“All you ended up making was a pathetic-looking pair of rubber gloves.”
He whispered in a low voice, then walked off without waiting for a reply.
I didn’t even get a chance to respond.
“Yikes. Looks like he’s really pissed,”
Cain shrugged as he watched Monarch’s back receding.
“Let him be. He probably thought his was the best-looking piece in the class. Then you came along with something on a whole different level—he’s just jealous.”
“I mean, Monarch did make something pretty well-crafted, though.”
I replied casually and started heading toward the cafeteria.
But just as I stepped out of the student building, someone called out to me.
“Eriol Valencia.”
Professor Hephaestus was standing still, gazing at me.
I motioned for the others to go ahead, then walked over to him.
“Professor, is something wrong?”
“There was something I didn’t get to tell you during the lecture.”
Something he didn’t get to say?
“What you made—its appearance was crude.”
“…”
I felt like I’d already heard that part.
“Truly, it was terrible.”
“Yeah…”
Was he calling me over just to criticize me some more?
“That’s why you should take a good look at this and understand what it’s supposed to be.”
“…Sorry?”
I stood there blinking at the sudden shift, and Hephaestus pulled a small envelope out of his pocket.
“This is for you.”
“…?”
“Well then, I’ll be going. Focus on your studies.”
Leaving just those words behind, Hephaestus walked away, like there was nothing more to say.
“…What the?”
I peeked into the envelope.
Inside was… a very thin metallic bracelet.
“It is a bracelet, right?”
Without thinking much, I slipped it onto my right wrist.
And then, something strange happened.
“…!”
A pitch-black membrane extended from the bracelet.
In an instant, the membrane spread and covered my entire right hand.
‘No way…’
A glossy black sheen, rich with a sense of luxury.
It was the same deep black as the arcane four-wheeled vehicle that Kaisel Valencia used to drive.
A glove wrapped snugly around my skin.
Yet it didn’t feel unnatural at all. It felt as natural as wearing nothing.
‘This is the protective glove made with slime material from the Academy’s production division!’
The biggest advantage of slime-based material was its ability to change form freely.
This glove, normally compressed inside the bracelet, automatically unfolds to cover the hand whenever the wearer needs it.
‘And if this thing matches the specs I read about in that magazine article…’
It would be resistant to sharp blades, immune to venomous stings, and able to endure scraping against rocks without taking any damage.
‘This would be insanely useful for dungeon exploration!’
I’d just gotten my hands on the ultimate item for surviving inside a dungeon.
Hephaestus walked slowly down the path to the producing department.
He nearly bumped into someone because he wasn’t watching where he was going, but he didn’t care.
Right now, Hephaestus was deep in thought.
‘Eriol Valencia…’
Nephew of Kaisel.
He’d already confirmed in the rookie tournament that Eriol had impressive magical combat abilities.
But he needed to check if it was just battle magic talent—or something more.
That’s why he came to see for himself… and the results exceeded expectations.
‘That kid stood out for two reasons today.’
Hephaestus recalled the crude glove Eriol had made.
‘The other students simply followed my instructions and tried to mold a specific shape like they were sculpting clay. But that kid tried to create something with a specific function rather than a shape.’
Eriol had understood the essence of producing magic more quickly than anyone else.
That alone was enough to make him worthy of joining the crafting division.
‘But what was even more impressive…’
Hephaestus clenched his fist tightly.
‘That kid understood the spell I’d imbued into the slime and tried to construct not just the exterior, but also the internal structure.’
It was a shocking feat.
The experimental slime was designed to read the user’s mental waves and change form accordingly.
But normally, that only affected the appearance.
To change the internal structure as well, one had to fully understand the embedded spell and precisely project the image to match.
None of the other students had managed to build a functioning internal structure.
‘It was my own original spell. No way he learned it anywhere else. How did he manage this?’
Then Hephaestus recalled a certain possibility.
‘Could it be… the Reading aptitude?’
He remembered.
According to the student profiles, Eriol possessed the rarest spiritual origin—aptitude for Reading.
‘Did he use that to decipher my spell?’
It was ridiculous.
The theory that Reading comprehension aptitude could comprehend all things—a so-called transcendent gift— had already been debunked long ago.
But what if that theory had been right all along?
‘I want him by my side.’
Hephaestus clenched his fist again.
‘I want to bring that kid… into the producing division!’
It was the first time he had felt such a powerful urge toward a student since Kaisel—twenty years ago.
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