Consciousness returned to Mike in waves, each bringing a fragment of memory with it. The Void Ripper's terrible form dissolving under the obsidian teeth of his trap. The blazing blue crystals pulsing with power. The satisfaction of months of preparation culminating in victory. And then—impossibly—the sight of three figures at the edge of the plaza, one of whom had spoken in a gruff, distinctly dwarven voice.

  Mike's eyes fluttered open to find himself lying on his own bed in the underground chamber beneath Crafter's Haven. The familiar stone ceiling swam into focus, illuminated by several oil lamps that cast a warm glow around the room. His body ached, but not with the sharp pain of fresh injuries—rather the dull soreness of muscles pushed beyond their limits and now recovering.

  "He's wakin' up," came the same gruff voice he'd heard before losing consciousness.

  Mike turned his head to see three figures gathered around a small table he'd constructed months ago. The shortest—unquestionably a dwarf—had a thick, elaborately braided beard adorned with metal clasps, each bearing symbols Mike couldn't quite make out from this distance. Beside him stood a tall, willowy figure with the unmistakable pointed ears and silver-blonde hair of an elf, though this one appeared male rather than female. The third was human—a woman perhaps in her mid-thirties with short-cropped dark hair and skin marked with intricate blue tattoos that spiraled up her neck and onto one cheek.

  "About time," the dwarf said, rising from his seat with a grunt. "Thought you might sleep through the next invasion."

  Mike pushed himself up to a sitting position, wincing as his muscles protested. "Who are you people? And how did you get in here?"

  The dwarf approached, stopping at the foot of Mike's bed. Up close, the family resemblance was unmistakable—the same broad features and keen eyes as the dwarf Mike had seen die on his first day in this world, though this one's beard was darker and his face unmarked by the scar that had crossed the other's nose.

  "Name's Morin Stonehammer," the dwarf said, thumping his chest with a fist. "That there is Nott Silverleaf," he gestured to the elf, who inclined his head slightly, "and the human is Trolley Kincaid."

  "Trolley?" Mike couldn't help but ask.

  The tattooed woman grinned. "Nickname. Got it when I was twelve and accidentally rolled a mining cart over my instructor's foot. Real name's Astrid, but no one's called me that in fifteen years." Her accent reminded Mike of the Australian contractors he'd worked with back on Earth.

  "As for how we got in," Morin continued, "you left the door unlocked when you went to meet the Void Ripper. Not that it would've stopped us anyway—we've been tracking you for days."

  Mike's hand instinctively moved to his hammer, which he found propped against the bed within easy reach. The gesture wasn't lost on his visitors.

  "Easy, Builder," Nott said, speaking for the first time. His voice was melodic but deeper than Mike would have expected from his slender appearance. "If we meant you harm, we'd have done it while you slept these past eighteen hours."

  "Eighteen hours?" Mike echoed in disbelief.

  "Give or take," Trolley confirmed. "You were completely spent after that fight. Not surprising, considering what you pulled off."

  Mike's mind raced, trying to process the situation. These people knew who he was, had been tracking him, and somehow found their way into Crafter's Haven—a place he'd spent months fortifying against intruders.

  "You still haven't really answered my first question," Mike said, keeping his voice even. "Who are you people? What do you want?"

  The three exchanged glances before Morin spoke again. "We're part of a resistance movement. Fighting against the Zengrid Empire that's been bleeding our world dry for decades." His expression darkened. "And I'm the brother of Jorin Stonehammer, who you saw die on your first day here."

  Mike stared at him, pieces suddenly clicking into place. "The dwarf who was killed by the Void Ripper... that was your brother?"

  Morin nodded grimly. "Aye. Along with Elindra of the Silverbranch family," he gestured toward Nott, "distant cousin to our pointy-eared friend here."

  "And the third figure? The one in the cloak?"

  "Korvin," Trolley said quietly. "A summoner we'd hired to help us access Crafter's Haven. Turns out he was a double agent, working for the Zengrids all along. He didn't summon you—that was an accident. What he did summon was the Void Ripper, on orders to destroy everyone before we could find what we were looking for."

  Mike slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed, testing his strength. Finding it adequate, he stood, facing the three strangers directly.

  "And what exactly were you looking for?"

  Nott stepped forward, his movements fluid and graceful. "The same thing you've been living above for the past three months without realizing it. Crafter's Haven isn't just some ancient ruin—it's one of the legendary Crafter Cities, said to hold artifacts of immense power. Artifacts that could help us push back against the Zengrid Empire."

  "The Zengrids," Mike repeated. "Like Rong? The three-eyed creature who commanded the goblins?"

  "You've met Rong?" Morin's bushy eyebrows shot up. "And survived?"

  "Blew him up with sap bombs," Mike said matter-of-factly. "Though he survived too. Last I saw, he was retreating with what was left of his goblin army."

  Trolley let out a low whistle. "Impressive. Rong is a mid-tier warlock in the Zengrid hierarchy. Not the strongest, but definitely not someone to be trifled with."

  Mike moved to the water basin he kept filled in the corner, splashing his face and taking a long drink before continuing. "So let me get this straight. Your team came looking for this place—Crafter's Haven—but your summoner betrayed you, killed your companions, and nearly killed me too when I accidentally arrived through some kind of portal."

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  "That's about the size of it," Morin confirmed. "After we lost contact with Jorin's team, we were sent to find out what happened. Took us weeks to track down the location again, and when we finally got here..." He gestured around them. "We found you had not only discovered the Haven but had somehow made it visible again."

  "Visible?" Mike frowned. "What do you mean?"

  Nott exchanged a significant look with his companions before answering. "Crafter's Haven has been hidden for centuries behind some kind of perception shield. People could walk right through the ruins without seeing them—the magic would simply redirect their attention elsewhere. It's why the Zengrids haven't been able to find it despite searching for generations. But somehow, you broke that shield."

  "I didn't do anything," Mike protested. "I just... built things."

  "Exactly," Trolley said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "You built things. The old texts said only a master crafter could unveil the hidden cities. We thought it meant someone with a specific bloodline or magical ability—never imagined it could be as simple as someone with the right skills actually crafting within the ruins."

  Mike absorbed this information slowly, each piece reshaping his understanding of the past three months. The ruins that had seemed like a stroke of luck, the ancient hammer that had called to him, the woodworking ring that enhanced his abilities—none of it had been random chance.

  "These Zengrids," he said finally. "Tell me about them. What exactly are they? Where do they come from?"

  Morin settled himself on a nearby stool, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "They're from another world entirely—not yours, and not originally ours either. They're invaders, plain and simple. They use portals to connect to different realms, then send through devices that pump their world's energy—they call it Ki—into ours."

  "The Ki mutates everything it touches," Nott continued. "That's why so many creatures here have six limbs or multiple eyes. They're not natural to our world—they've been changed by prolonged exposure to Zengrid energy."

  A cold realization washed over Mike. "The Void Ripper..."

  "One of their elite bioweapons," Trolley confirmed. "Created specifically to hunt powerful adversaries. The fact that you managed to build a trap that could destroy one is... well, it's nothing short of miraculous."

  Mike ran a hand through his beard, which had grown considerably during his months in this world. "I found blueprints in the underground complex. There was an interface—some kind of ancient system—but I could only understand parts of it. The rest was in symbols I couldn't read."

  Nott's expression brightened. "That's why we've been looking for you since we saw what you did to the Ripper." He reached into a pouch at his belt and withdrew what appeared to be a small, multifaceted crystal that glowed with a soft inner light. "This is an attunement crystal. It should allow you to fully interface with the Crafter systems."

  He held it out to Mike, who hesitated only briefly before accepting it. The crystal was warm to the touch and seemed to pulse in synchronization with his heartbeat.

  "What do I do with it?" Mike asked.

  "Hold it in the hand with your ring," Trolley instructed. "And focus on your interface—the notifications you've been seeing."

  Mike did as instructed, closing his fingers around the crystal and concentrating on the familiar floating text boxes that had guided and informed him throughout his time in this world. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the crystal flared brightly, sending a wave of tingling energy up his arm that spread rapidly throughout his body.

  The sensation was pleasant rather than painful—like plunging into perfectly temperatured water after a long day's work. When it faded, Mike opened his eyes to find his vision overlaid with the most elaborate notification he'd ever seen.

  But this time, he could read every word.

  ```

  [SYSTEM ATTUNEMENT COMPLETE]

  Welcome, Builder Michael Reeves (Level 13)

  Interface Language: English (Terra Variant)

  Full Access Granted to Crafter Network: Limited Node

  CLASS: Builder

  LEVEL: 13 (24,567/27,000 to Level 14)

  PRIMARY ATTRIBUTES:

  - Strength: 18

  - Dexterity: 15

  - Endurance: 20

  - Intelligence: 16

  - Wisdom: 14

  - Charisma: 11

  SKILLS:

  - Hammering (23): Expert efficiency in using hammer-type tools

  - Sawing (21): Expert precision in cutting materials

  - Joining (25): Master-level ability to connect different materials

  - Layout (22): Expert spatial planning and design

  - Athletics (17): Advanced physical coordination and stamina

  - Measurement (24): Expert precision in calculating dimensions

  - Wood Cutting (19): Advanced ability with axes and timber preparation

  - Trap Design (18): Advanced mechanical trap construction

  - Material Identification (15): Advanced recognition of building materials

  - Boom Sap Handling (16): Advanced ability with explosive materials

  TITLES:

  - Void Ripper Slayer

  - Haven Defender

  - Crafter Aspirant

  PENDING SKILL SELECTIONS:

  Level 10 Options (Choose 1):

  - Structural Analysis: Instantly assess structural integrity of any construction

  - Combat Momentum: Building consecutive successful attacks increases damage

  - Material Reinforcement: Ability to enhance durability of crafted objects

  ```

  Mike stared at the interface, drinking in the information he'd been denied for so long. Every notification, every system message he'd struggled to interpret for months was now perfectly clear. He could see his progress laid out in precise detail—the skills he'd developed, the levels he'd gained, even titles he'd earned without realizing it.

  "It worked," he breathed, looking up at the three faces watching him expectantly. "I can read everything now."

  "Excellent," Nott said with a satisfied nod. "Now you can make your proper skill selection. You should have options waiting since reaching level 10."

  Mike looked back at the interface, focusing on the three skill choices presented at the bottom. Each sounded valuable in its own way, but as a builder, one stood out as particularly useful.

  "Structural Analysis," he said aloud, selecting the option. Immediately, a warm sensation spread through his mind, and new knowledge seemed to integrate itself into his thoughts—not like memorizing information, but more like remembering something he'd always known but temporarily forgotten.

  A new notification appeared:

  ```

  [SKILL ACQUIRED: Structural Analysis (Level 1)]

  You can now instantly assess the structural integrity of any construction by focusing on it. Higher skill levels will reveal more detailed information and allow analysis of more complex structures.

  ```

  "I chose Structural Analysis," Mike told the others. "Seems like it could be useful for understanding more of this place." He gestured around them at the ancient underground chamber.

  "A wise choice," Morin approved. "The crafters were master builders. Understanding their work will help unlock their secrets."

  Mike took a moment to test his new skill, focusing on the stone archway that led from his sleeping chamber to the main storage area. Immediately, information flooded his awareness—the load distribution across the keystone, the precise composition of the stone, weak points that had developed over centuries, and potential failure modes under stress. It was like having x-ray vision, but for structural engineering.

  "This is incredible," he murmured.

  "The Crafters were," Trolley agreed. "Which brings us to why we're here." She leaned forward, her expression turning serious. "We need your help, Mike. The Zengrid Empire is expanding its hold on this world. The Ki energy grows stronger, mutating more creatures, corrupting more land. And according to our intelligence, they're preparing something big—a master portal that could permanently connect our world to theirs."

  "If that happens," Morin added grimly, "our world is finished. Everything will eventually be transformed by Ki energy, twisted into forms serving the Zengrid Empire."

  Mike looked between the three of them, reading the earnestness in their expressions. "What exactly do you think I can do?"

  "The legends say that Crafter's Haven contains artifacts that can help close portals," Nott explained. "We believe there's a blueprint here for a device that could shut down the Zengrid connection permanently. But accessing it requires something we don't have."

  "Crafter's Rings," Trolley finished. "Seven of them, one for each Crafter discipline. And you," she pointed at Mike's hand where the woodworking ring glinted in the lamplight, "already have one."

  Mike looked down at the ring he'd found months ago in the chest opened by his hammer. The spiral grain pattern etched into its surface seemed to shift subtly as he examined it, catching the light in hypnotic whorls.

  "This is one of seven?" he asked, turning his hand to see it better.

  "The Woodworker's Ring," Morin confirmed. "There are six others: Smith, Artificer, Alchemist, Weaver, Glassblower, and Stonemason. Together, they're said to unlock the full power of the Crafter's knowledge."

  Mike took a slow breath, processing everything he'd learned. It was a lot to take in after waking from eighteen hours of unconsciousness, but the pieces fit together in a way that made an intuitive kind of sense. His arrival in this world, finding Crafter's Haven, discovering the ancient hammer and ring—they were all connected to something larger than he had imagined.

  "And if I help you find these rings and build this portal-closing device," Mike said carefully, "could it also help me find a way back to my world? Back to my family?"

  The three exchanged glances again, a silent communication passing between them. It was Nott who finally answered.

  "The Zengrids control all known portal technology in our world. If anyone understands how to send you home, it would be them—or the ancient Crafters who fought them. Either way, helping us is likely your best chance of finding a path back to your Earth."

  Mike stood, feeling strength returning to his limbs as purpose clarified in his mind. "Then I guess we have work to do." He extended his hand to Morin, who clasped it firmly in the dwarven style—forearm to forearm.

  "Welcome to the resistance, Builder," Morin said with a fierce grin. "Together, we might just save both our worlds."

  As they released their grip, Mike felt something click into place—not physically, but in the underlying fabric of this reality. A notification appeared, simple but profound:

  ```

  [QUEST ACCEPTED: The Crafter's Legacy]

  Find the seven Crafter's Rings and build the device to close the Zengrid portal.

  Reward: Unknown

  ```

  The game had changed. Mike was no longer just surviving—he was fighting back. And for the first time since arriving in this world, he had allies who understood its rules and systems.

  For the first time, he had hope of finding his way home.