Potter Debut

The next morning.

I woke up to my own body glowing.

“No way… I leveled up while I was sleeping.”

It still seemed early, and the room was a little dim.

“I could just go back to sleep like this, but… school’s off today, right? It’s my first day off, and since I woke up early anyway, I might as well go for a morning walk.”

I was about to get out of bed, but under the bed, Tom was curled up like a black cushion, and I nearly stepped on him.

“Black Panthers are hard to see in the dark, so I’ve gotta be careful.”

Stepping over Tom, I got up and wandered toward the window while stretching.

In the yard, there were about two activated pit traps.

There were traces of something crawling out on its own, so this probably wasn’t the first time something had fallen in.

“Still, I think I’ve more or less figured out why I leveled up. Yaaawn.”

Yawning, I opened my status window.

“So the new job is ‘Potter.’ Pottery… I did a little of it as a hobby once.”

Muttering to myself, I stepped outside the house, and it was strangely noisy beyond the gate.

Mark was pacing back and forth in a panic.

“What’s wrong, Mark?”

When I asked, Mark looked at me while stamping his feet, as if he didn’t know what to do.

In both hands he was holding up, a golden, thick liquid was sloshing right to the brim.

“Is that… honey?”

“Gwooon, gwooon, gwwooon!”

From the way he cried and gestured, I got the gist of it.

Apparently he’d gone honey-hunting for his favorite treat and ended up gathering way more than expected.

Mark kept whining like he was saying, “There’s no way I can finish this much!”

“Hang on, I’ll make a container out of wood—”

Then I reconsidered.

“Right. Speaking of honey… yeah, it has to be that!”

Leaving Mark behind, I headed into the forest.

Of course, I didn’t forget to change jobs, either.

The moment I became a Potter, I could identify the types of soil and pebbles under my feet.

I was shocked that even “just rocks” came in so many varieties.

“Forest stone, green clay-stone, sand-stone… oh—found some ‘pyrite sand.’ And over here, there’s ‘granite stone,’ too.”

“If there’s igneous rock even though there’s no volcano around, maybe there used to be a river here long ago? If I look around, there might even be a headwater source nearby.”

Just by becoming a Potter, my thoughts even wandered to how this forest came to be.

“Oops—more importantly, I should get back and start working. I’ve got the materials, too.”

I hugged the sand and stones and headed back home.

Then I said to Mark, who was still pacing around,

“If you’re going to keep doing that, step on this stone and crush it up fine for me. Counting on you.”

I put the granite stone at Mark’s feet and began working.

“Oh—before that, I should change jobs to Stonecrafter.”

I picked up some forest stones lying around and struck stones together to shape them.

I stacked the finished stones and made a small arched gate—just big enough for me to crouch and pass through.

“Now if I cover it with forest soil and make sure there are no gaps…”

“All right, done! Now I can finally debut as a potter!”

Once the kiln was finished, I checked on Mark, and he’d ground the granite stone into fine powder for me.

Maybe he got hooked once he started—he’d even forgotten about the honey, grinding away with his claws.

“That’s enough—thanks, Mark!”

I squatted by Mark’s feet and mixed pyrite sand into the powdered granite stone.

Then I pulled out my water flask from my coat pocket and added water while mixing it all together…

Because I mixed in pyrite sand, the clay turned a yellowish-brown color.

I set the clay on a flat rock and used it as a makeshift workbench to shape it.

Since about half the clay was left over, I made another identical one.

“Now I just have to fire them…!”

Excited, I put the clay into the firing kiln and shoved in fire-lit kindling.

Normally it would take about ten hours to fire, but using the Potter skill “Mass Production,” I could shorten it to one minute.

The clay I pulled out, unable to wait, had hardened perfectly.

And it was shining brilliantly—like a tiny sun.

“No way—High-Quality!?”

The jar was a vivid yellow, and along the sides were black, bee-like patterns—probably from the pyrite sand scorching and changing color.

“Perfect for storing honey.”

I carried the freshly made jar over to Mark.

Mark was overjoyed, slowly pouring honey into the jar in a thick stream.

Just then, hurried footsteps came clattering closer.

When I looked, it was that mismatched duo.

“G-Garbage…! N-no, Leopiiiiin-kuuun!”

“Is it true you fired a High-Quality jar!?”

“Huh. You were watching?”

“A truly great master potter happened to witness that moment by sheer coincidence! Of course, I’m sure it was a misunderstanding, but just in case…!”

“Even if it were true! We already know a jar fired by a failure like you isn’t worth even 1 Ender! But that master insists he absolutely must see it!”

“So hand it over! We won’t treat you badly! But if it’s garbage like you, we won’t forgive you!”

“Exactly! If the jar isn’t a terrible piece of work, then as a special exception, we’ll free you from the hell called the Special Training Class—”

I cut the principal off mid-sentence.

“No, thank you.”

“I fired that jar for Mark, so I can’t give it to anyone else. If Mark says it’s fine to hand it over, that’s a different story.”

““Mark?””

The mismatched duo echoed in unison.

Only now did they seem to notice there was a bear right beside me.

When Mark roared, “GRAWR!”

““F-Fugyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!?!?””

Screaming like cats with their tails set on fire, the two of them fled at full speed.