Blacksmith vs. the System 11 (Patreon)

When the evening finally arrived, I had no plans other than eating before collapsing to my bed. My day had been incredibly productive, but also exhausting. I just needed to sleep, wake up early, and come up with a new proposal that would convince Eleanor to provide me with more ingots to improve my Forge skill further.

I could probably excuse the disappearance of a few bronze ingots by failures and experiments, but I couldn’t use all of them easily.

But, those plans died when the workshop door opened and Eleanor walked in. “Lady Maria asks you to join us for dinner,” she said, her voice kind, but I didn’t miss the subtle threat in her tone like it was my fault. I had a sense of what was about to follow, so I decided to distract her.

“Does she want to listen to my report directly? Good, I have news,” I said, quick to distract her with a lengthy explanation of my improvements until her gaze became glassy. “In summary, I managed to reduce the repair time for a further three minutes toward the end.”

“Impressive, very impressive,” she said as she looked at me. “I didn’t know Blacksmiths could do that.”

“We don’t, because everyone is happy using their skills without changing anything,” I replied, unable to suppress a genuine flicker of anger. ”I understand why the quick improvement of the skills was more tempting. I use them to great effect as well. But embracing them to the point of everything we had learned while establishing the civilization is absurd.”

 I didn’t expect her expression to tighten. “Don’t tell me you’re one of them. I should have known,” she said, her attitude once again radiating the same sharpness she had revealed when she had faced Thomas. It was good good news.

I raised my hand in surrender. “I feel like there’s a misunderstanding,” I said calmly. “Who are … them?”

My surprise must have looked genuine because she calmed down. “You know, the Purists,” she said.

“I have no idea who they are,” I replied. “From the context, I’m guessing it’s some kind of political movement or a cult. But, I have been living in a godforsaken small town since the Cataclysm, and apparently, we’re not important enough for them.”

She looked at me carefully, trying to see if I was lying. Soon, the sense of sharpness disappeared, suggesting that she believed me. “They are not a political movement,” she spat. “They are a bunch of terrorists and murderers that believe that the System is some kind of curse that drains us completely. They are trying to kill everyone with the System, believing that by killing enough people, the System will disappear, and we can go back to civilization.”

“What a bunch of morons,” I spat out. “Even if they were right, what do think will happen when the whole infrastructure disappears once again. Just more deaths. Unfortunately, Einstein was right when he declared that human stupidity is limitless.”

“Good. I would have hated to kill you,” Eleanor replied. I gave her a shaky smile. Being threatened by summary execution was not a fun time. I understood where she was coming from, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed it.

“Now that we resolved that minor misunderstanding,” I started, proud that I kept my voice from trembling. “You mentioned dinner.”

“Yes, follow me,” she said.

“So, I have a question about the supplies,” I said. “I believe I can improve the repair time even more, but I need to experiment some more.”

“What do you need?” she asked.

“I still need the books about material science if possible. More information is always helpful,” I said. If it wasn’t for the tricky subject matter, I would have questioned her why asking for old books didn’t trigger her suspicions, but praising the civilization did … but then, a viable answer popped up. Considering those Purists assumed mass murder was a good way to bring back civilization, I was sure that they didn’t bother working on the other part.

Another unreasonable cult, this time idolizing the past rather than a religion or a cult leader.

“I’ll try to prioritize it,” she answered. “What else?”

“I need to use the ingots during those experiments, and some of them will be wasted. I need your permission to use them. Also, having more materials and different types of weapons will be helpful as well. Maybe even some with different types of enchanted weapons. Dungeon products will be useful as well.”

“Ingots is easy. We already have an excess of dungeon products. Ingots are a bit more problematic. We have some in excess, especially with your new repair method, and you can use one on ingot for every ten weapons you repair,” she offered. “But, that means you’ll receive your salary and bonuses based on the original contract.”

“That works,” I said. While I wouldn’t say no to more money, I was more enthusiastic about experimentation. “And, one last thing,” I asked.

“That list is getting a bit long,” she said.

“All of them are mutually beneficial,” I said. “The better I get, the faster I can repair.”

“Fair point,” she said reluctantly.

I was lucky that she wasn’t exactly a good negotiator. “I need a private forge,” I said. “Not now, but once the other workers join me. I can’t try new techniques in the middle of the others. It’ll distract them from their work,” I explained.

“I’ll try, but no promises. Even a small forge is not cheap,” she replied. “But, once the others arrive, you can still have two hours alone every day. The rest, I’ll try to get as soon as possible, but don’t expect much for at least ten days.”

“The next caravan?” I asked.

She nodded, and that was all we were able to talk before we arrived at the dining room. It was once again unnecessarily opulent, with a long table at the center, but Maria was alone in the room. “Finally,” she said, raising a glass. Her tone was slightly slurry. Not exactly drunk, but definitely cheerful.”

“Lady Maria,” Eleanor said coldly, though I had a feeling that I was the target.

“Come on, girl. You know I hate that stuff when we’re in private,” she said. Eleanor’s gaze sharpened. I flinched. I didn’t realize that I had already been promoted to the good friends category. Apparently, my attempt to keep her entertained worked better than I expected.

“Yes, Maria,” Eleanor said with a sigh, and sat down. I sat down as well.

“Enjoy, Devon,” Maria said with a generous gesture.

Befriending her was a dangerous thing. But, as I poured myself a glass of wine — a luxury that I had been craving for a long, long time — I found it difficult to take long-term risks. “Delicious, but very complex,” I muttered. “Almost like a cocktail rather than wine. I’m guessing it’s not an old wine?”

“No, it’s from our newest winery. Alchemists can brew some fascinating wines,” Maria explained.

“True,” I admitted. While I still preferred a properly aged wine, the new one was certainly incredible as well. I took another sip.

“So, how was the first proper day of work?” she asked. “Also, D3,” Maria said, taking another sip.

“It was more productive than I had first expected,” I said, giving a detailed breakdown of the day, except my forging experiments and my unexpected perk, and explained my success. Playing a chess game at the same time was rather difficult. Maria was half-drunk, which made it slightly easier, but not enough to prevent me from losing miserably.

Losing repeatedly was far more annoying when it wasn’t there as a tool to distract me from the lack of solid ground under my feet. So, when her moves slowed down as she listened to my report, I was glad.

“You already reduced repair time to twelve minutes. That’s good,” she said, her smile wide. “Can you reduce it further? That will allow us to get away with hiring even less Blacksmiths, right?” she said.

“We better hire the original amount we planned. We don’t know how far it’ll be reduced. And, having some extra capability won’t be too bad,” Eleanor replied.

“I’m confident that it could be reduced to eight minutes as long as I continue to work on it,” I said, careful not to overpromise it. Another trick, this time from publishing papers. It was always better to split any scientific discovery into multiple pieces and publish separately. That way, I could collect more rewards.

“That deserves a reward. I’ll bring you to another leveling tour the moment I have time,” Maria promised readily. It was an excellent offer.

 “Only if I’m not preventing anything important. Otherwise, I can just join the dungeon parties to level up slowly,” I offered. It was easy to make sacrifices when I knew it wouldn’t be accepted. The message they had left in the workshop this morning already raised the possibility of an assassination. And, even without that, dungeons weren’t exactly the safest location for a blacksmith.

“Nonsense. Since Maria wants to help you, you should allow her,” Eleanor replied.

It further confirmed my assumption. They wouldn’t risk me. Even if they didn’t care about anything else I could potentially do for them, my life was critical until I could teach the other Blacksmiths how to repeat my methods.

I didn’t care too much about whether they would continue to treat me the same way once that part was done. I still had a week, which should be enough to get another perk from Forge and increase Repair significantly.

From there, I could use that offer to make a deal with Rosie, ideally targeting the same dungeon.

And, most importantly, another leveling trip would bring me to level twenty-five, the first threshold, which would actually increase the class bonuses.

“A fruitful discussion,” Maria said. “It’s time for another game. C3.”

I managed to hold back my sigh as I responded, trying to prepare myself for a few more spectacular defeats…