Blacksmith vs. the System 8 (Patreon)

I had a new armor, a new uncommon fighting skill that increased my fighting capabilities significantly, and there was even a proper warhammer on my back. Unfortunately, none of them helped against the challenge I was about to face.

Another flight. This time, with my new boss.

I said nothing as I climbed my part of the saddle, and grabbed the leather hard, glad that she wasn’t particularly observant. I didn’t exactly enjoy talking to people about my anxieties, and even if I did, my new boss was not exactly the ideal target.

“Ready?” she asked as she climbed with far better grace.

“Yes, my lady,” I replied. I might find the sudden shift back to feudalism ridiculous, but my feelings weren’t strong enough to risk annoying my new boss who could successfully imitate a flame thrower. And, admittedly, the fact that what they paid me for a day’s effort was more than I made in three years helped quite a bit as well.

“Good,” she said as she commanded the griffin, and once again, we were suffering an unnatural, disgusting act that humans weren’t supposed to experience. I took a deep breath, ignoring the vertigo as we flew, Maria easily took down any flying beast that dared to drift closer.

I expected her not to deign to speak to me. I was wrong. “Do you play chess?” she asked without a preamble.

I sighed. Even when dealing with vertigo, I could understand her aim. While my earlier trick with the math lesson convinced her that I knew what I was doing, it also annoyed her. She wanted to prove herself.

“Yes. I was a high-ranking master before the Cataclysm,” I replied, doing my best to sound proud rather than frustrated. My past with the chess had been rather checkered. It was a fun game, but I had always hated how people equated it as a shortcut to prove how smart they were. And, as a genius who started teaching at a premier college younger than almost all of my students, I had been challenged many times, forcing me to learn more just to stay on top.

After the Cataclysm, it got worse. Suddenly, playing chess to prove capabilities turned common. Intelligence stat allowed people to make calculations faster and multitask better, a devastating advantage for chess. I was quick to stop playing after that. I wasn’t entirely free of competitiveness, and being demolished every time I played was not fun.

But, it looked like it was about to change.

“Do you want to play blind chess to pass the time?” she asked, her enthusiasm clear.

“Of course,” I answered, doing my best to fake enthusiasm. She just asked, but I decided to take it as an order. If all it took to be demolished in a few chess games to get her in a good mood, I was more than happy to make that sacrifice.

Especially if it distracted me from the fact that I was in the air. I closed my eyes. “Pawn, e4,” I said. A classical move, one that led to many of the classic openings. A few moves later, I had a significant advantage. Not only did I have absolute control of the center, but also I was ahead of a pawn.

Unfortunately, that advantage was temporary. My knowledge of openings gave me a great advantage during the first ten moves, but the moment the game settled, that advantage started to dwindle. A knight cut through the side in an unexpected move, but every attempt I made to defend pulled me deeper into the quagmire.

I sighed as I tried to come up with a good move, but failed repeatedly. Most of the moves she had made felt ridiculous. Her fundamentals were horrible, and the strategic implications didn’t matter.

Unfortunately, none of those mattered when she simply could outthink me, like she was using a computer to calculate her moves. I felt like a sickly boxer fighting against a giant. I held the advantage in technique, but it didn’t matter against an enemy that could shatter my bones with each move.

“I surrender,” I called in frustration in move fifty, about twenty moves after my defeat had been set in stone. In any chess tournament, such a move would have been derided as pointless pride, but Maria clearly enjoyed taking my pieces one by one to lord over her superiority.

“Good game,” she said, her voice far more cheerful. “Another one.”

“It won’t be easy this time,” I replied, doing my best to sound confident. Luckily, Maria wasn’t observant enough to understand I was indulging her with fake competitiveness.

As I started with another classic move, I wondered if there was a chance to make it more fun. Maybe if I could tailor my game against her. Not to win. No, that part was truly hopeless. But, I could try and optimize my game to counter her advantages as much as possible, and lose gracefully.

Also, any distraction from my current activity was a welcome bonus.

For the next several games, I focused on the way she played, trying to reverse-engineer the approach. While she played very good chess, it was very different from playing a chess grandmaster. It wasn’t even like playing against a chess engine. It was more like the reverse. Bad strategic moves, only to be resolved through sheer creativity until I found myself in a position that was impossible to comprehend based on any sane application of chess theory.

It was not a complete surprise. I had already known how Intelligence worked thanks to my previous research — at least in general terms — and I had played with other people with Intelligence until it became too frustrating.

However, it didn’t make two people would play chess the same way. Strength allowed people to hit harder, but people still had their own fighting style. Some chose relentless direct assault, while others fought carefully, and defensively.

Maria, to my absolute lack of surprise, belonged to the first category. She started slow, probably to enjoy her upcoming victory, but the moment she started playing seriously, she delivered attack after attack. I tried to trap her, but her Intelligence made it easy to catch them.

“And, checkmate,” she called as we landed, smiling smugly. “That makes it, thirteen to zero.”

“I’ll get you the next time,” I fake-growled, trying to convince her that her victories bothered me. To be fair, they would have … but it was bliss compared to focusing on the silent torture of flying. Playing against her required my full focus, distracting me from the fact that we were floating.

“We will see. We still have the return flight,” she said.

I looked around, taking note of our surroundings. An empty plain, with no human in sight. Instead, there were a lot of monsters. Some vaguely looked like animals, as if they were painted by an impressionist painter who was suffering from a drug overdose, while the others vaguely looked humanoid.

A nightmarish horde that was currently gathering toward us.

“I’m going to burn them until they can’t move. Just walk through the piles and smash them,” she said, utterly calm.

I couldn’t blame her, not when she easily destroyed a hundred creatures with a wave of her hand, leaving mostly cinders. I moved forward immediately.

It was a great opportunity.

I stood in front of the first beast, a giant wolf immobilized thanks to its incinerated limbs, my hammer rose and fell. It was a familiar move, one that came from my Overhead Strike skill. I was glad that my new Uncommon skill had a similar move, allowing me to adapt with ease.

My hammer fell with far greater impact than I was used to, showing the difference between the two skills. The difference between the two tiers was not for nothing.

“Move faster, we don’t have all day,” she shouted.

“Sorry, boss. New skill jitters,” I replied even as I moved. Only when I was smashing the third one, I realized that I hadn’t used the more formal call. “Sorry, my lady,” I said, not wanting to annoy her.

“I like the boss better. Use it when we’re alone,” she replied, laughing.

I smiled as well. She wasn’t nearly as unbearable as the first impression suggested once she warmed up. I smashed two more immobile beasts, and a notification arrived.

[Hammer of Might (Uncommon) 1 -> 2]

“Fascinating,” I muttered. It was not easy to raise skill proficiency levels, or my overhead strike wouldn’t have lagged merely at four. However, the basics were hardly a secret. Skills leveled up more based on external feedback than anything internal.

For example, using more precious materials made [Forge] improve faster, and the better — and more damaged — the target weapon, the faster [Repair] developed.

And, for combat skills, the stronger the beast that had been killed, the easier they leveled up. Their damaged state reduced the feedback significantly. It was hard to gauge, but the first wolf alone probably improved the skill by two stages, and maybe even given me an actual level as well.

Though, considering it would have ripped me apart easily, I was more than happy to take the reduced feedback. I killed a few more until the System responded once more.

[Level 7 -> 8]

[+2 Vitality, +2 Strength,, +1 Dexterity]

[Hammer of Might (Uncommon) 2 -> 3]

“I have just leveled up,” I informed her. As much as hiding it was tempting, I didn’t forget her casually using a spell to check my level. No need to take risks for small benefits, particularly since she was so generous while helping me.

“Faster than I expected. Very good,” she said. “Let’s see if we can bring you to your first threshold,” she called.

That made me gasp. The first threshold was level twenty-five. And, in three years, I was merely level seven. Yes, I didn’t prioritize it, but that didn’t make the gap any less impressive.

“Yes, boss,” I replied, tightening my grip on my new warhammer, and moving between targets. There was no heroics, no unexpected developments, nothing. Just a steady massacre of monsters without even bothering to harvest one, leaving material that was potentially worth hundreds of gold. Or, would have been if they weren’t burnt to cinders, and we had the ability to carry them back to the camp.

Soon, however, I realized another problem. Maria was getting bored. Understandable. While it was a thrilling activity that strengthened me significantly, it represented nothing but boredom for her.

“Pawn D3,” I suddenly called.

“E6,” she replied, her boredom replaced by some amusement. Constant defeats were not fun, but I was more than happy to accept it if it allowed me to level up rapidly. And, it helped me to analyze her playing style even more. The more we played, the better I fared.

When she finally called a stop, it was already dusk. “Let’s move back. It’s not safe to hunt during the night.”

I wanted to argue against it, but my arms were hurting too much to argue. Even with the System, there were limits to my endurance. “Yes, boss,” I called instead. And, it wasn’t like I had any right to complain.

-

[Blacksmith - Level 22]

[Health 660/660]

[Vitality 44 / Strength 44 / Dexterity 22]

[Skills (3/8)

Repair (Common) - 24 [Analyze]

Forge (Common) - 8

Hammer of Might (Uncommon) - 7]