"Spellcasting under D&D rules really is a pain." Skyl placed a repaired gear from the spelljamming helm aside, speaking to himself in a relaxed tone.
Beside him, the gnome artisan stood on tiptoe, scratching his ears and cheeks. He stared at Skyl eagerly, his eyes filled with hunger for knowledge. It was obvious that he truly wanted to know how to repair a spelljamming helm.
The warlock deliberately ignored him. When the old gnome first saw Skyl, he had said a couple of unpleasant things, and someone had quietly remembered them.
Repairing the spelljamming helm involved two steps. The first was physically restoring the damaged parts. Broken and warped components could basically be mended back to their original state with the transmutation cantrip [Mending]. The next step was enchanting the parts so they regained their original functions.
Many D&D spells required spell components. For example, [Mending] required two natural lodestones. [Light] required a firefly or a piece of phosphorescent moss. [Jump] required a grasshopper's hind leg. Many higher-level spells had even more complicated component requirements, and they were usually quite expensive.
Some of those spell components could be reused, while others would be consumed.
Among the various magic systems Skyl had learned, there were truly not many as strict in rules and complicated in procedure as D&D.
As a spellcaster, if one had a spellcasting focus, it could replace many cheap, scattered spell components. Skyl did not have a spellcasting focus on hand, so he planned to squeeze some benefits out of his true self.
The Infinity Scepter from before was quite good. With the power of that divine artifact, it could replace basically all spell components. In the future, Skyl would be able to travel the world light and free, without having to carry a bag full of random bits and pieces like a flea-market vendor.
As a warlock, squeezing benefits out of his patron was perfectly natural. If he could get them, that was his ability.
A slightly accomplished warlock could often obtain a feature known as a Pact Boon. Pact Boons were divided into three types: [Pact of the Chain], which granted a familiar; [Pact of the Blade], which granted a weapon; and [Pact of the Tome], which granted a spellbook. A normal warlock had to choose one of the three. Skyl decided he wanted them all.
The work of repairing the spelljamming helm proceeded in an orderly fashion. Skyl's movements became more and more practiced, and one helm component after another was restored to its original state in his hands. Pami the gnome badly wanted to steal his technique, but after realizing that his own understanding of magic was too shallow and that he would never learn the real skill in his lifetime, he ran off gloomily to repair the hull.
Meanwhile, after receiving the dittany potions, the captain tested them briefly and found that they truly had a miraculous effect on external injuries. He handed them to the ship's doctor and told him to hurry and treat the wounded mage.
On the second night, the ship's chief mage woke up.
The middle-aged human mage Jelim raised the index finger of his left hand, pointing the tip upward, and praised the name of Azuth, god of wizards.
"How long was I unconscious?"
"Four days and sixteen hours." The ship's doctor put the half bottle of dittany potion back into his pocket. "You should thank the newly arrived warlock. Without his potion, the injuries on your body wouldn't have healed this quickly."
Jelim asked curiously, "A warlock? Who?"
The apprentice keeping watch by the window answered that question, adding plenty of embellishment as he described Skyl as an extremely dangerous figure.
"Dean, you still haven't remembered my warning. Respect every spellcaster and be careful of their methods. Especially when you were stupid enough to walk into another spellcaster's home... If it were me, I would have driven thunder down and killed a reckless fool like you long ago." Jelim criticized him sternly, while also becoming curious about this strange warlock wandering through Wildspace.
Later that day, Jelim saw the newly arrived spellcaster.
Skyl was surrounded by the captain and the boss, drinking glass after glass of red wine. A slightly tipsy flush had risen on his pale, thin cheeks, but his eyes remained clear and bright. Jelim's experienced and sharp gaze noticed the abnormality of Skyl's left hand. There were colorful burn marks like tattoos on his fingers, and the skin looked unnaturally pale, almost like chalky soil.
Spellcasters spent years in contact with magic and performed dangerous experiments, so it was perfectly normal for their bodies to undergo a certain degree of mutation. As a warlock, the fact that Skyl had not grown curved horns like a tiefling, sprouted several tentacles, or developed fairy wings already made him look rather clean and handsome.
"Your Excellency, I heard it was your potion that healed my pain. May the mysteries of magic watch over you." Jelim took the initiative to step forward and toast him.
Skyl quickly sized up the human mage. The spellcaster in front of him seemed to be around forty or fifty years old, still in the prime of life, and his expression still retained a youthful curiosity.
"My Common is still not very fluent. But congratulations on your recovery. This ship needs a helmsman. I will repair the spelljamming helm soon. Probably in another day."
Jelim was very curious about Skyl's experiences, so he took the initiative to sit across from him. After greeting the people around them, he asked the warlock about his past.
"A portal brought me here. Wildspace is a place that tempers people. But I will not miss it."
Skyl casually spoke about his survival process. The plain stories in his narration were enough to make everyone click their tongues in wonder. They found it incredible that one person could survive in the terrifying Wildspace.
Jelim ordered his apprentice to apologize to Skyl for his reckless trespass into private territory. At the same time, he thanked Skyl for his magnanimity in not killing the young brat immediately.
Dean lowered his head in shame and mumbled, "Thank you for your generosity, Your Excellency. I feel deep remorse for my actions. Please forgive me."
"I didn't kill you at the time because I wanted to use you as a bargaining chip in negotiations with the merchant ship. As for breaking into my residence, I imagine you've already suffered enough. But if you offend me again, I'll turn you into a chicken, or a sheep."
The warlock's bluntness made everyone's expressions turn awkward.
Stan laughed and shook his head. "Warlocks really can't all be like you."
Skyl smiled. "I am who I am."
Three days later, the Charizard's spelljamming helm was restored, and the holes in the hull had all been patched. Mr. Gus excitedly announced their departure. The days stranded in the Farstar Belt had left the crew on edge, and now they could finally set sail again.
Jelim took over the duty of helmsman and praised Skyl's skill highly.
"With craftsmanship like yours, you will never have to worry about money in the future. However, you should be careful of trouble from the Arcane. Spelljamming helms have always been monopolized by them."
The helmsman lay upon the spelljamming helm, and Jelim felt the helm connect with his mind. When they entered a harmonious resonance, Jelim's vision instantly extended throughout the ship's body. It was as if he had become the Charizard itself, able to clearly see the scenery of the Farstar Belt.
The captain stood atop the bow cabin and ordered the sailors to raise the merchant ship's flag.
The Charizard's flag rose and fluttered. Everyone performed their duties, singing a long, melodious sea shanty.
A ship controlled by a spelljamming helm could reach a speed of one hundred million miles per day. It was precisely because of such speed that it could roam a vast sphere within just a few months.
Skyl stood on the deck and watched the world outside the ship shift by at high speed. The stars were no longer out of reach. When he thought back to the days he had spent drifting through Wildspace, it truly felt like a lifetime ago.
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