The First Toy Soldier

“Oh—what’s this? You’ve got something to do?”

Elaine let out a sigh of pure relief.

Apparently she’d thought I was about to clobber her with the club. And of all things, it was high-grade wood—perfect for thrashing someone of Elaine’s caliber.

But I wasn’t some psycho. I wasn’t about to beat up a perfectly healthy person.

I set the club down and pulled Elaine into a tight hug.

“……?”

To the thoroughly bewildered Elaine, I said,

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you? If even a good person like me looks like that to you.”

“Good…… what did you just say?”

“Don’t worry. This isn’t a tool for hitting Elaine. It’s material for making you happy.”

Elaine looked down at the high-grade mana wood and murmured,

“Happy…… so that’s it. It was for me.”

“Well? Feeling a little better now?”

I tilted my head up and grinned. Elaine blinked several times, then finally cracked a smile.

“Yeah. I’m better. Thanks.”

“Great. Then get out.”

“Huh?”

“You’re happy now, so business is finished. I’m busy today.”

Elaine’s shoulders slumped in pure defeat.

“For a second there I actually thought you’d turned normal. Typical clingy homebody.”

She grumbled, but her energy had clearly returned. The furrowed brow had smoothed out, the corners of her mouth lifted, and life had bloomed back into her whole face.

Which meant I needed to kick her out fast.

Once a beagle snapped back to full power, who was supposed to handle that insane energy? The person standing right next to her, that’s who.

“Alright, I’m heading out.”

“Yep!”

“Ah, one thing before that.”

“What?”

“How far have you gotten with bolt magic and combat techniques?”

Bolt magic? And combat techniques—wasn’t that special-forces stuff?

“I heard ahead of time. Starting the day after tomorrow there’s going to be practical training on campus. Everyone’s moving to Bukhan Mountain in groups.”

Bukhan Mountain was right behind the school. More precisely, most of Bukhan Mountain belonged to the Academy. The classroom buildings and training zones were completely separated, so the atmospheres felt totally different.

Unexpected training. My face twisted, and Elaine spoke in a worried tone.

“Our little koala’s strong, but she’s got no experience… I was thinking I’d take you with me if possible. How about it?”

She planned to gather the weaker or more timid kids and lead them herself. Even as a magic prodigy, Elaine was still a noble—her combat power far outstripped ordinary students.

I accepted on the spot.

It wasn’t like a survival exercise meant anyone was going to die. If someone was going to carry me from the side, I could just rest that much more.

Elaine nodded with a pleased smile.

It was finally time to meet a real Toy Soldier.

Their physical specs were one thing, but their brains had been ridiculously sharp—an entire legion of them. The same pests that had been such a pain in my past life were about to be born from my own hands.

Still half-detached from reality, I began the crafting process.

“Accept.”

My hands moved on their own, working the mana wood. I split the hard timber lengthwise like soft ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠taffy, then molded other pieces into jointed sections like knees.

It had been the same with the Party Bears—a strange sensation. As if it wasn’t my will at all. Like the real Pecia had possessed my hands and was crafting in my place.

“Huh? What’s this all of a sudden?”

Out of nowhere a warning appeared, along with choices.

“…Are you insane?”

For a second I thought I’d misread the numbers. Even the “quick” two hours felt long, but normal crafting was completely beyond imagination.

Rough calculation puts it at over thirty times longer.

Sixty-eight hours was nearly three full days. Even for making an A-class magical beast, that crossed the line. At that rate I’d rather just make a bunch of Party Bears.

What the hell was the system thinking, setting conditions like this?

“What is this crap, you crazy bastard. Even if my understanding’s lacking, sixty-eight hours is way over the line.”

Another message window popped up.

…….

I thought about what that nonsense actually meant. Originally, the attempt itself should have been impossible.

In this world, if you lacked understanding of something, you couldn’t even start making it. But Pecia was originally the queen of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an amusement park. The Demon God hadn’t handed her everything—she had created it all herself. She should have had more than enough crafting skill. At the very least she ought to be able to make her own toys without trouble.

Was it a specs problem after all? I opened the status window.

“So a hundred wasn’t the level cap after all.”

I’d thought the number meant something, but there were only minor stat changes. The exclusive outfit had probably triggered some event, but I’d check that later.

“System, if I dump all remaining stats into Intelligence, how much does the crafting time drop?”

I asked just in case, and a message appeared immediately.

“Wow…… and Strength?”

A hollow laugh slipped out.

“Figures. Nothing’s ever easy. Dexterity?”

That was the most meaningful number so far. Still an absurd amount of time, though, so I checked Agility and Will one after another.

Agility showed basically zero difference from the start. It clearly had nothing to do with crafting, so I couldn’t even feel cheated.

Will would probably be the same. I sighed. If level 100 wasn’t enough, did I have to hit 200 now?

Then I checked the next value—and I doubted my own eyes.

“What the hell is this. Is this really Will?”

Normal crafting: 11 hours 24 minutes.

Quick crafting: 19 minutes.

A ridiculous reduction compared to every other stat. I’d known Will affected mental stability and combat sense, but I never expected it to influence crafting too.

On top of that, the normal crafting success rate rose by 1% to 99%.

That changed everything.

But just as I was about to dump everything into it, I hesitated.

How exactly was Will supposed to connect to crafting? “If you have enough will you can do anything” was one thing, but this defied common sense.

Toy crafting was a professional field that demanded knowledge and skill. Seeing a clearer effect than even Dexterity—the most related-looking stat—was weird.

“…System. What happens if I keep raising this?”

No guidance message appeared. Either the system didn’t know, or it was deliberately blocking the answer.

No matter how I looked at it, the situation felt off.

Staring blankly at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the status window, I suddenly hit on one possibility.

…Pecia’s Will.

Until now I’d assumed it simply strengthened mental power. In almost every story, Will was a purely positive stat that helped the protagonist.

But nowhere had I ever seen Will simultaneously boost life skills, reflexes, and combat sense. If a universal stat like that existed, every game would be called trash.

This was an original system that only appeared here—inside Pecia’s body.

“Let’s just put one point at a time.”

Maybe raising it little by little would be fine. If something felt wrong I could stop right there. As long as I didn’t actually become the real Pecia and start killing people, it was okay.

With Toy Soldiers urgently needed, I couldn’t throw away a path this efficient.

“…This is fine?”

Before I knew it I had dumped every single remaining point into Will. Watching the projected times keep shrinking felt surprisingly good.

And nowhere in my heart did any urge to harm people appear. I just felt sleepy and languid from the earlier tension.

“Hah…”

I’d worried for nothing. If I’d just dumped the points earlier I could have been sleeping already.

But wait a second.

The thought struck me that raising Will even more could shorten the time further. Looking at the remaining points with a twinge of regret, I suddenly noticed something strange.

A system window that hadn’t existed before. It must have appeared after I passed level 100.

The whole “loan” concept made me a little uneasy… but leaving things like this still felt incomplete.

I had plenty of low-tier combinations I never used anyway. A little borrowing should be fine.

I offered everything from One Pair up through Back Straight and borrowed a total of 100 extra points.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

“Dump it all into Will. Show me the projected times right now.”

Yes! This was mid-boss Pecia!

Sixty-eight hours? That was ridiculous.

Honestly even three hours and forty-seven minutes was far too long for a queen. Feeling great about the massive time save, I confidently switched to Quick Crafting.

Ninety percent. No way it would fail.

Slip—

I had briefly forgotten that the world is cruel to good people.

I offered a silent prayer for the now-useless mana wood and quietly began Normal Crafting.

A Toy Soldier was a classic toy soldier with the charm of a British gentleman. It wore a neatly pressed red uniform decorated with gold trim and buttons. Gold epaulets sat on the shoulders, and a stiff black hat stood tall on its head. Finally I finished the white gloves and black leather boots—then the yellowish wooden face surface began to ripple, gradually revealing a human face.

Two black eyebrows were drawn horizontally. Beneath them, blue doll eyes spun wildly on their own before locking into focus.

Clack, clack.

With the sound of wooden pieces knocking together, the Toy Soldier rose like a zombie. Then it snapped to attention and delivered a crisp salute toward me.

“Greetings, Your Majesty of Chiffonside.”

It had been a full four hours since I started crafting.