Before long, Julian had worked the dragon steel into a simple, smooth band. He let it cool completely, then ran a careful inspection over it, searching for any cracks or imperfections. Finding none, he pulled out several sheets of transfigured sandpaper in different grits and methodically went over the ring, step by step, until the metal shone with a mirror bright polish.
"And now it is time for all of you to leave," he said calmly, straightening up. "None of you have signed a contract or sworn any sort of secrecy."
His gaze flicked briefly to Professor Flitwick in the corner, making it clear that he had been aware of the man's presence the entire time.
Flitwick did not look offended in the slightest. He had expected this boundary, after all, from their earlier talk.
...
"It's fine, mate. Thanks for the lesson," the twins said together, still speaking in perfect unison as they wandered out of the room.
Julian could just make out their voices in the corridor, already discussing how what they had learned could be put to use. The thought made him smile.
"Do let me see the finished work. I am quite curious to see how it turns out," Flitwick said warmly before stepping out. He closed the door and locked it behind him, granting Julian full privacy.
Julian swept the room again with his senses, probing for any hidden magic. When he found nothing out of place, he finally set the polished band on the anvil and began the true work of turning it into Hagrid's ring.
He filled his hands with spiritual energy. A bright, pure white radiance spilled out from his fingers, wrapping his hands in light.
...
Julian focused, shaping that power with his thoughts. He poured his understanding of everything that repelled or killed slugs, all varieties and species, into the energy.
At first, the glow shifted to a muddy brown, its movement thick and sluggish, like stirred wet earth. Julian frowned at the result. That was not what he wanted.
He added his own will to the mix, hardening his intent around the idea of repulsion, rejection, banishment. The light responded, its tone deepening into a greenish brown while its texture sharpened, changing into something that resembled crystalline salt.
Satisfied, he slid the cooled steel band onto the horn of the anvil, raised his hammer, and struck.
A clear humming filled the room the moment metal and magic connected. The enchantment had officially begun.
"Bang. Vrrrrm. Bang. Vrrrrm."
The sounds repeated in a strange rhythm as he worked, the solid ring singing back to every blow.
Though the metal itself remained cold to the touch, the band glowed with the same eerie hue as the energy wrapped around Julian's hands. Stroke after stroke, he forced the enchantment deeper, layering it into every part of the ring.
For four long hours, he maintained the pattern, beating the magic into the steel without pause.
At last, he raised the hammer for one final strike.
"Slugbane," he said clearly as he brought the hammer down.
The humming surged to a fevered pitch, vibrating through the air, then stopped abruptly as the name settled and bound the piece into its final form.
"Haah… haah…" Julian panted, chest heaving. His arms trembled with exhaustion, and his entire body ached from the sustained effort. The hammer slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor as the rest of his tools fell still.
...
A familiar screen of information unfurled in his mind.
[RING NAME: Slugbane
Grade: Uncommon
Abilities: Auto sizing, slug repulsion (radius: 26 meters), lethal anti slug effect (radius: 25 meters)
Description: A dragon steel ring forged by a rising ring smith, designed to keep slugs away within its field of influence.
System evaluation: Unusual in purpose, yet highly practical.]
Julian nodded, pleased. The appraisal confirmed his steady growth since he had crafted Sanar.
I will be reforging you soon as well, he thought, fingers briefly brushing the older ring with something close to fondness. Sanar had done its job admirably so far, but he knew his mind ward needed to be stronger if he wanted true security.
He slipped the newly made Slugbane into Greed for safekeeping, then drew out a generous haul of snacks and began devouring them one after another.
He had skipped lunch completely during the forging session, and his body was demanding payment in calories. Most of his friends assumed he kept that many treats stored away to satisfy random cravings. In reality, he stocked them because he understood the physical toll that forging and enchanting placed on him.
I should really ask the old elf how to make lembas bread the next time I see him, Julian mused, chewing ruefully as he finished his sixth chocolate chip cookie.
...
Once he felt his body settle, no longer screaming for fuel, he turned off the furnace and left the workshop.
He took the shortcut to the first floor and headed straight for the library. It was only five in the afternoon, which left him roughly an hour to kill before dinner.
Picking a quiet corner in the rarely visited "ancient" section, he pulled out the thick tome on fundamental magic he had checked from there some time ago. He was about halfway through it now, and eager to see what other insights it contained.
Unlike the illusion books he had chewed through in a single day, the material in this volume was much denser. It resisted being rushed. Every chapter demanded real thought, so progress through it was slow and deliberate.
As he read, he learned that in earlier ages, the world had possessed many more species of magical trees.
Over time, however, as wand usage became more widespread and popular, those trees had been cut down at a rate far faster than they could naturally grow. Little by little, they began to vanish.
The author's sorrow was plain in the writing of that section, and Julian found himself sympathizing completely.
In their hunger for power, wizards had systematically destroyed the very living resources that once made that power more abundant.