Blackmith vs. the System 6-10 (Patreon)

— Chapter 6

Decision made, I ignored the shouts outside as I focused on examining the forge. A forge that was far more expensive than I had ever worked with.

The first thing that caught my attention was the fire at the center, spilling out of the central forge. I walked closer, its heat washing over me intensely even at a distance, far more intense than I was working with. Still, I walked to the edge, letting the heat wash over me.

[-1 Health]

It was too intense for me to resist all day. At least, not without adding a few more levels first.

Still, I stayed at the center, watching the gold flickers dancing in the fire, trying to understand the reason for the intensity. Only to realize that the fire was eating the fuel at a shocking speed. Likely, it was some kind of enchantment to enable a higher heat.

It was fascinating to attain such a high degree of heat in an open fire. I took a step back even as I started examining the forge. It was both plain and flawless, which marked it as another product of the System store. I didn’t even want to imagine how much it would cost.

I turned my attention to the anvils and the other tools, using the Analyze to get a better sense of their enchantment. I couldn’t identify them without working on a lot of similar samples, but the sheer number of enchantments was enough to prove their quality.

“Troublesome,” I muttered even as I continued to check the room. They had spent a serious amount of capital on the forge, the kind that I hadn’t ever seen. No wonder Rosie was willing to make a big deal with them.

It was a tumultuous situation, the kind that was a wrong move that could cost me my life. The prudent thing would be to keep my head down and get away… but then what. What did prudence have given me other than being discarded and ignored?

I could probably keep my head down until the operation ended up in failure, but I would find myself in the same situation. With each passing day, the value of my class was getting lower and lower. Yes, a political battle within one of the upstart new so-called noble houses was dangerous, the kind that could end up in my death.

But, that was a valid concern for every expedition.

The rewards, however …

“No risk it, no biscuit,” I muttered even as I grabbed one of the unused hammers, far better than my own poor tool that doubled as a weapon. As I twirled it in my hand, I moved to the side, where a shockingly large pile of damaged weapons lay. The pile had hundreds of weapons, while a connected room held even more.

However, as I hovered above the pile, a sour smell hit my nose, coming from some of the weapons that hadn’t been cleaned properly. I ignored it momentarily as I picked one of the clean weapons.

It was some kind of short sword that was reminiscent of a gladius, but thicker. I pulled one from the pile, closing my eyes as I focused my [Analyze] ability, examining its inner structure.

Even without Eleanor’s earlier explanation, I could understand the reason for it. While it had some structural cracks that limited the impact of the Sharpness enchantment, it was nowhere near enough to turn the weapons useless.

No, that honor went to the edge, worn out as if it was dipped into a vat of acid. Though, curious, I touched one of the unclean ones, wondering why they kept it that tainted. But, I saw that the unclean ones weren’t more damaged than the clean ones.

The impact wasn’t as simple as the blood being acidic, but I shrugged. Each monster had its own unique problems, and while I would have enjoyed pondering about it, I was mature enough to admit that it was more of an intellectual curiosity than a practical concern.

I didn’t need to care about the political crisis that was going on, or the way those monsters degraded the sharp edges of the weapons. I just needed to focus on my job.

For the moment, I needed to start repairing. I walked back to the forge, letting the heat wash over the magical metal. I closed my eyes, using [Analyze] to keep track of the heating process. I ignored the heat brushing against my skin, and let System do its thing.

[-1 Health]

“Fascinating,” I muttered as I watched the process of the metal reaching the ideal temperature for reforging. In my old forge, it would have required twenty minutes for the edges to heat up enough without destabilizing the enchantment.

It would have been easier with the [Warm Blow], but lack of it wasn’t a bother. It was all about the timing. I pulled out the weapon, ignoring my skill’s instinctual suggestion to keep it in the flames longer, knowing that it would warp and weaken the enchantment.

I used my hammer instead of one of the better tools lying around. Not because of a sense of nostalgia, but to avoid introducing too many variables. With a practiced ease, I started hammering the edge, careful not to distort the enchantment even as I destroyed the edge completely, using some ext.

If the damage to the edge was lesser, some sharpening would have been enough, but not with this. I ignored the next step my skill was suggesting, which was to add more metal to bring the weapon to its ideal weight. It would help, but it would also increase the work time almost ten times.

Especially without [Warm Blow] to keep it going, forcing me to continuously heat up the metal to keep it searing and soft without turning molten.

Ordinarily, I could never get away with such a shortcut, even though it would make absolutely no difference. The moment even a new Blacksmith touched it, their [Repair] skill would trigger to inform that it was not correctly repaired, and I would have a reputation for shoddy work.

No one really cared about acceptable performance degradation.

I was hoping that my new employees would have a more open mind. They were dealing with a monster that destroyed multiple weapons a day. A faster repair should have been a more than acceptable tradeoff.

Assuming, of course, their operation continued, but that was a different problem.

I let my skill guide me as I delivered blow after blow, achieving a smoothness that I could never achieve in its absence. I might not want to follow its suggestions religiously, but that didn’t mean it was useless.

Especially since it was hard to truly use the Stats productively without the assistance of the skills.

I started humming even as my hammer landed again and again, reshaping the distorted metal that had been degraded by the acid, only stopping to heat the metal.

Forty-five minutes later, I moved away from the grinding stone, having just developed a new edge. I ignored the niggling of my skill that constantly niggled at the back of my mind, repeating that it was not completely fixed. It was like leaving the house without turning off the oven. A constant niggling.

Unpleasant, but considering I was able to finish the work in fifteen minutes when the contract required me to merely six weapons a day to start earning bonuses, more than acceptable. The clean whistle of the sword was only possible with a working Sharpening enchantment. Who cared what the [Repair] skill said.

I just needed to convince my new employers of that fact.

Taking a break was tempting, especially since the heat had been punishing. Even using Health to recover, it left my skin raw and tingling. It was not pleasant. However, I didn’t have the luxury of

Without taking a break, I grabbed a new weapon. It was time for another experiment, to see how much improvement the new tools would bring.

Once again, the benefits of the Repair reduced the adaptation period significantly. The first attempt took slightly more than half an hour. The second one shaved a few extra minutes. By the sixth, I was able to maintain a steady pace to bang down one at the twenty-minute mark, and that was with several breaks I used to check the new process.

Without them, a steady pace of fifteen minutes was doable.

I decided to impress my employers. I started repairing one after another, the metal gleaming with a healthy sheen under my consistent blows. It was fun, steady work — one that would have been much better without the constant niggling sensation at the back of my head.

It was already noon when I had a visitor. Eleanor was back, with an exhausted expression on her face. An expression that shifted to wonder and shock the moment she noticed the number of weapons that were waiting for her. “What’s going on?” she asked, tense.

“I’m working hard to earn my bonus, of course,” I said, trying to add some levity to the situation. It didn’t work. “Since someone just took away all the experts, I decided to see if I can find a way to go faster,” I explained.

“How. I thought you only have Repair.”

“Well, yes,” I said. “Before I explain, check the weapons first and see if they are properly fixed,” I said. I didn’t want to explain what I did before she checked the results directly, not wanting to prejudice her. It was a very critical part of any experiment that required subjective assessment.

She frowned as she tested the weapons one by one, with a slight frown on her face as she assessed them. Yet, the clean whistle of the sword was unmistakable. “It feels alright,” she admitted. “Now, explain.”

“I used some shortcuts that don’t exactly follow the Skill completely, so, technically, they are not completely repaired.” She said nothing, but her expression shifted from affable and confused to sharp. It would have scared me, but against Thomas, she had been much scarier.

I gave her a detailed summary of the process, which mollified her somewhat, but she also looked confused. “Looks promising,” she said even as she took five swords. “Follow me, we’re going to explain it to Lady Maria.”

I followed her with a sigh. I hoped that the redhead wouldn’t be too frustrating.

***

— Chapter 7

I examined the camp as I moved forward. As far as I could see, the camp population had dropped significantly to something around two hundred, which no doubt made any dungeon incursion a bigger challenge. Even working overtime, most of that number had to be dedicated to camp defense, which probably ruined any chance of making decent progress with the dungeon until the reinforcement Rosie promised arrived.

Though, I had a feeling that Rosie would offer them another batch of recruits, naturally with some premium for emergency recruitment. But, I kept my mouth about that. Whatever deal they had was between them.

I just wanted to make some money. And, maybe, get a few skills in the process.

We soon arrived at the largest building. “Wait here,” she said as she went inside with the swords. I said nothing, ignoring the hesitant glances of the camp visitors, no doubt wanting to ask the newest face some questions.

Their anxiety was understandable, but I deliberately avoided their gazes, not giving anyone a chance to interact. Whatever that was going on was complicated enough to make sticking my head — any more than I already would once I started churning out a ridiculous amount of swords, at least — an unwise choice.

“You can come in,” Eleanor said when the door opened once more. “Lady Maria is ready to see you.”

I nodded and followed her, taking note of the decorations. It was well-furnished. Much better than what I would expect in a camp in the middle of nowhere. Either Maria was even more spoiled than I had assumed, or her family was even richer.

Either way, a bigger trouble.

I refrained from sighing in despair even as Eleanor led me to an office that was filled with parchments, leather-bound books, and many glowing objects, all clearly enchanted.

“Eleanor tells me that you can repair five times faster than our other blacksmiths. How?” she asked, trying to look serious and in control. She wasn’t particularly successful. Luckily for her, the memory of her burning multiple monsters with a wave of her hand was more than enough to compensate.

I thought about breaking down the process, and dumbing it down to the most understandable piece, but after some consideration, I decided against it. She didn’t seem like someone who would appreciate anything she could understand.

“May I ask how familiar you are with math, my lady. I’m using some scientific methods to expand the benefits of the skill. It allows me to bypass some of the steps given by the Repair skill.”

“And you know it works, how?” she asked, the challenge in her tone clear.

The answer was simple trial and error, but I had a feeling that she wouldn’t appreciate it. “A proper explanation of some detailed formulas. May I proceed with it?” I asked.

I caught a hint of panic on her face before she looked frustrated. “I was a college senior when the Cataclysm hit, and more importantly, I’m a Fire Mage. With Intelligence, I can easily understand anything a mere Blacksmith could come up with.”

Her confident declaration made me even more confident about my choice. I paused for a moment, remembering some of the formulas I had read in the journals I had found. Formulas were nothing more than intellectual curiosity as they were mostly random, scattered articles with no proper link.

Still, they were good enough to dazzle an overconfident student whose understanding of math probably ended up in algebra, and Intelligence was not useful in understanding completely unfamiliar concepts.

 “Let’s start with a simple basis. JMA equation for recrystallization process of metals. The formula is simple.” I paused for a moment, jotting down the first formula.

 [X(t) = 1 - exp[-(kt)^n]

“X represents the volume fraction of the material of transformation, t represents time, k is constant, and n represents an exponential of dimensionless number that reflects the dimensionality of the growth and nucleation behavior during the transformation…”

She tried to hide it, but I taught for years. The glassy expression of a student who had lost track was too familiar to miss. Under any other situation, I would have slowed down, and explained every concept one by one. This time, I threw more and more complicated concepts.

I wasn’t good enough in material sciences, but dragging the discussion to a more pure math basis wasn’t too hard. Fifteen minutes later, I was deep into a small, confusing lecture on the fifth-order differential equation and their effectiveness in solving wave propagation.

“Enough, I have got the gist of it,” Maria cut in, unable to keep her frustration. “The math looks solid, and Eleanor already confirmed the weapons are good enough. So, go ahead and start teaching the others how to do it. We’ll need a lot of swords soon.”

I was about to cut in, when Eleanor cut in first. “We currently don’t have any other Blacksmith in the camp, madam.”

“How? Only the six of them were under family contract.”

“Yes, but we still hired the others through the usual channels. That contract has the escape clauses. They … they decided to pay it off.”

“They paid fifty gold each,” Maria gasped. “That bastard must have given it. Can’t we …”

“We don’t have evidence,” she said.

“I’m sure Rosie could find a few more experts in emergency. They don’t need Level 25 Repair. As long as they have Analyze, I can teach them,” I offered. I thought about asking Maria for a bonus, but I chose against it. I had already annoyed her enough. I could talk to Eleanor about it. “But, I can’t repair all day,” I said.

“Why? You already signed the contract,” Maria said.

“Because my level is not high enough. Four hours already drained most of my Health. I need to be higher level.”

“That’s easy,” Maria said, looking at Eleanor. “Where’s the closest wild spot we could visit,” she asked.

“But, I can’t leave the camp with the guards gone, and we don’t have any guards strong enough to help him.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll help him,” Maria replied. “I can’t stay here and defend the camp without depleting our mana potions. Just escort him to the armory and give him armor. I don’t want him dead.”

“I will do as you wish. Should I arrange for an escort—”

“No, I don’t need any,” she replied, her tone final. Eleanor looked frustrated. Maria sighed. “You know we can’t afford any. Not unless we are willing to clean the dungeon entrance again.”

Eleanor sighed. “You’re right, but I don’t like it,” she said. Then, she turned to me. “Follow me,” she said.

I followed as she brought me to the basement, which was filled with weapons and armor. Most of it was the type the guards had been wearing, but a few of them looked better. “I don’t have to tell you that if anything happens to her…”

“I understand,” I said. I didn’t appreciate being threatened, especially since Maria was far stronger than me, but it was not exactly a helpful conversation to have. Instead, I focused on something more productive. “My contract doesn’t have anything to do with teaching,” I reminded her.

“You want more money,” she said, her tone not exactly welcoming.

“That would help, but I have something else in mind. Something that could help your side as well.”

“What do you need?” she said.

“I need books from before the Cataclysm,” I replied. “Preferably about material science, manufacturing, and similar topics, but I’m alright with anything. If it has numbers, it might help.”

“What’s the point?” she said.

“Well, you have seen my trick with repairing the edge. I can only do that because my calculations gave me the ideal temperature to work on the edge. There’s a chance I can find an even better method as long as I have the necessary material.”

“And, you can do that as a Blacksmith,” she said.

I shrugged. “I have a Doctorate in Math,” I said, giving her a simplified version of my background. No need to muddle it with my other expertise. “And, unlike what most people claim, math can still be useful.”

“Not as useful as skills,” Eleanor replied.

“Probably,” I said. I strongly disagreed, but after three years of having the same conversation many times, I was bored of explaining to people why it was ridiculous to restrict themselves to the System just because it was easier. “But, I’m assuming you don’t have one of those useful skills, or you would have already given it to your old blacksmiths.”

“Well, no,” she said. “Skill stones for production classes are hard to find. The System Store hardly stocks them, and they rarely drop from dungeons.”

I sighed. I certainly know that, which was a pity, because the biggest advantage of production classes was having more skill slots. Another unfair detail, of many. “So, that’s why I’m asking for books. I assume it won’t be too difficult for you. Even I was able to collect some, and I live in a small town.”

“Probably, I need to check it,” she said. “But, meanwhile, we can discuss your salary —”

“No, I rather leave it to Rosie,” I replied, cutting it short. The situation was too complicated for me to navigate. I didn’t even know what kind of money I could ask for. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a combat skill if you have any.”

“You use hammers, right?” she said. “You’re lucky. We have one uncommon hammer skill. We also have several uncommon sword style variants if you’re interested,” she added.

“For now, it’s better if I stick to hammer,” I said. It was better to stick to one weapon, especially since it paired better with my class stats. However, I was fascinated by the casual manner she pulled a glowing rock from a box and threw it at me.

[Skill Stone: Hammer of Might (Uncommon)]

As the notification popped, I was glad that I chose to bargain with Eleanor rather than Maria. She was certainly the more generous one. Not for no reason, as I had just solved their biggest logistic challenge, but I knew many that would spit on my face rather than listen to it.

I was more than happy.

I closed my eyes, absorbing it slowly.

[Overhead Strike (Basic) 4 -> Hammer of Might (Uncommon) 1]

I groaned. It was the second time I was absorbing a skill stone — since repair and forge had come with the Blacksmith class — but replacing a similar skill felt much more different. It was dizzying and painful. I barely registered Eleanor checking several armors to find one that would fit to my size.

Absorbing skills were painful.

***

— Chapter 8

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]

***

— Chapter 9

I woke up at dawn. And, a quick bath later, I rushed to downstairs — my room was conveniently above the workshop — feeling very enthusiastic to work. Normally, I would say that my work ethics weren’t driven by external factors, and it was true … to an extent.

But, not only my new employer was far more generous than I expected, giving me a higher salary and assistance for leveling up, but also I was doing something other than just following the instructions of my skill.

A better salary, incredible benefits, and more fulfilling work…

While I was still a researcher at heart, and saw my class as more of an impediment than a career like the rest of the world seemed to, I had to admit, that those perks made suffering far more acceptable. I was ready to work —

Only for that enthusiasm to fade immediately I arrived at the workshop and found a scrap of paper waiting for me. One that had only one line.

‘We advise you to find a different job,’ the paper read. Next to the paper, there was a fat-looking pouch. I was tempted to touch it, but instead, I waved to one of the camp workers. “Please inform Lady Eleanor that there’s an emergency at the forge,” I said.

He looked unhappy about my intervention, but it wasn’t the first time I worked with people. I delivered the order confidently before going back in, implying that it was only expected for him to follow my requests. With the camp already in flux, he followed.

While waiting for her, I pondered about the message. I didn’t want to dismiss it out of hand, as it was clear that I found myself in a messy situation. Before the Cataclysm, such a thing might mean character assassination in the media. In this new world order, the character part was not relevant.

I wasn’t entirely happy about the risk, but the uselessness of previous efforts taught me that I couldn’t avoid risk without accepting I would live an ignoble, unremarkable life, seeped in utter boredom.

I wasn’t ready to accept it.

It was why I called Eleanor — one of the two I knew at the camp — and the more relevant party when it came to threats. She was responsible for the camp security, and I preferred to coordinate with her rather than ignoring it. She was the closest thing to a cop, and I rather not touch the evidence before she arrived.

As for why I was a target, it was obvious. I had just solved one of their biggest logistical challenges, and clearly, it was not a secret.

She arrived five minutes later. “I hope there’s something important. We need you working,” she said, frustrated. I could see that the challenge of running the camp below the ideal population was getting to her.

“This was waiting for me when I arrived,” I said, pointing at the paper and the small pouch.

She said nothing, but her frown tightened. She pointed at it, a slight glow on her to suggest she was able to use magic as well. “You haven’t touched it, right?”

“No, I thought it’s better to leave it to an expert.”

“Good call,” she said even as she used her sword to put the parchment into a small bag, then checked the pouch. “It would have burned the moment you touched. Though, I’m impressed you’re able to refuse the bribe. Fifty gold coins is not a small amount.” I gulped at hearing that. “Having second thoughts,” she said.

“No. I’m just afraid of what they’ll do next if their first move is to bribe me with what I was making for more than a year,” I replied. Unfortunately, it was not an exaggeration. I was certainly startled.

She paused. “Don’t walk around without your armor, and stay out of the shadows,” she said. I nodded. It was a smart choice. At least, it wasn’t as uncomfortable after my leveling. Also, I was surprised by the ease I accepted the risk of a possible assassination. But then, violence had become a far more acceptable method of dispute resolution since the Cataclysm.

Assassinations, duels, muggings, bandits… A lack of a central government was already showing its impact.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“No. I’ll post two guards to defend the workshop just in case. They’ll also bring your food. Stay inside, and start working.”

“Any idea about the daily target?”

“As much as you can manage. The dungeon operations will slow down until the next batch of recruits arrives, but it won’t stop completely. Until we can hire more Blacksmiths, you’re the only one that can keep us going.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said, making a mental note to take stock once I took a break. Eleanor walked back. “You forgot something,” I said, pointing at the pouch still sitting at the anvil.

“No, I didn’t. Take it as a bonus for your loyalty.” With that, she left.

I checked the pouch, only to find out that she was right. Fifty gold coins, a fortune. Being richer was certainly nice, but it only made me more stressed. It meant that their enemies were willing to spend fifty gold just for a chance to weaken the camp and slow down the dungeon.

”No risk it, no biscuit,” I said to myself, repeating the motto I had decided the day before. At least, I was benefiting greatly from the risks I was taking. It could have been much worse. Many people had died for much smaller rewards.

Fifty gold represented a lot of things. New skills. Better equipment. And, most importantly, enough money to throw around to get a position in one of the new research institutes, at least as an intern.

But first, I needed to work. I first focused on bringing the forge to an ideal temperature. Only when the heat hit my face hard enough to feel like I was burning, I grabbed a damaged sword, and started working.

[-1 Health]

The occasional consumption of health was much easier to ignore after almost tripling my reserves. The sword heated up quickly, and my hammer danced. “Fascinating,” I muttered even as I felt the metal reshape under my blows. Yesterday, I used every scrap of knowledge I had gathered over the last three years to reduce the repair time to fifteen minutes.

Now, it finished in four minutes, mostly because I didn’t need to reheat the sword again. With my increased level, I was able to complete the task in one attempt.

It was more due to increased Dexterity than Strength. It wasn’t that the latter was useless, but for the task of reforging an edge, the added control was far more useful.

An hour later, I was looking at fifteen swords that had been repaired to pristine condition. “Now, what to do?” I found myself asking. I could slow down intentionally, but that would make it problematic if they noticed my intentional reduction.

And, the better I performed, the more I could demand.

With that decision made, I continued to work, pushing my attention to the limit. It was quite tiring. One disadvantage of not following the instruction of the skill, that it was mentally exhausting. I couldn’t just let my wander and let my skill handle the hard work.

But, with hard work, came an unexpected reward.

[Repair (Common) - 24 -> 25]

[Perk Options — Warm Blow / Efficient Repair / Inspect (Analyze)]

“Huh,” I muttered as the notification popped without a warning, informing me that my Repair had been improved ahead of schedule, giving me multiple dilemmas.

The most obvious dilemma was which perk to choose from. Warm Blow was the most obvious choice, which would boost my ability to repair the swords even faster. With it, there was a chance I could further cut it in half.

Efficient Repair was also useful, providing me with a chance to make a living even after leaving the camp. I didn’t even know that Efficient Repair was offered in Level twenty-five again. If I knew, I might have committed to a different plan — not that I was complaining.

Ultimately, however, I chose Inspect, the advanced version of Analyze, which was supposed to provide with even more information. I might have chosen differently a couple days ago, but now that my earlier commitment to Analyze had proven its benefits, I decided to lean on it.

But, even as I made that choice, my mind moved to the next implications. Namely, the speed it had managed out reach the next stage, far ahead of schedule.

It was enough to throw my earlier model of skill improvement. Worse, I had no idea about what was responsible. Maybe my leveling allowed it to get to the next stage. Or, maybe it was just the quality of the weapons that allowed me to improve them, as I had been repairing them at a far faster pace.

But also I was not completely repairing them based on the suggestion of my Repair skill, which should have slowed down the process.

“What a fascinating question,” I muttered as I smirked, feeling excited. I couldn’t answer it alone, but soon, I would have multiple experimental candidates who would work directly for me.

What better opportunity to actually collect some data to build a better model. I had tried to collect that information before, but self-reporting was notoriously unreliable.

I didn’t expect to discover anything new, as I had no doubt many people had been working on how skills worked. The direct benefit of such knowledge was too important. Unfortunately, the importance also meant that it stayed a secret. There were many differing public opinions, but gossip was different from than scientific process.

“Finally, a chance for proper scientific study,” I muttered in excitement. It wasn’t exactly the way I preferred. I rather work on the mathematical models and conceptual designs while my doctorate students deal with the boring experimental stuff, but at this point, I would take even the most boring experiment over the monotony of repairing the same weapon over and over.

I was actually starting to like my new weapon.

***

— Chapter 10

“Now, let’s see if the Inspect is worth it,” I said to myself even as I grabbed another damaged weapon. I dragged my finger over the blade as I closed my eyes, a subtle mental command enough to activate the feeling.

The internal structure of the sword once again appeared in my mind. I wanted to focus on the physical structure first, as the Inspect increased the amount of detail I could catch significantly. I was able to catch many microfractures and other stress points. The details of it were fascinating.

But, not as fascinating as the details I was able to pick from the Sharpness enchantment. With the Analyze, all I could see was a bunch of straight glowing lines that stretched from the hilt to the tip. That allowed me to reactivate the enchantment by repairing the metal of the sword, but its magical aspect had been incomprehensible.

Not anymore. Well, not the incomprehensible part. I could merely see some kind of movement in those previously opaque lines of mana, without any corresponding knowledge of what was going on. But, that didn’t ruin my mood. I was confident that I could leverage it even better.

Though, preferably later as far as the magic was concerned. As much as I wanted to start poking the enchantments, I knew that it was not a good idea. I didn’t have the tools or necessary safety measures. I didn’t even know what would happen if the enchantments got damaged, whether they just faded away or exploded.

”Baby steps,” I muttered even as I shifted my focus to the aspect I could understand. The physical components. Not just the first one, but every blade I had repaired. “Some changes are necessary,” I muttered as I realized that my earlier process had weakened the edge unnecessarily. Not exactly critical when fighting against beasts that destroy the sword after a few successful hits, but a major problem against anything else.

Still, an easy fix for the future.

I should return to my repair task, ideally to impress my new bosses with my success, but the temptation of another plan started to stir. A plan that had long been ignored because of its immense cost. A cost that was not relevant thanks to the overstocked workshop.

Improving my Forge skill.

The Forge was a neglected skill. A choice that was made not just by me, but the other Blacksmiths as well, for one simple reason. Unlike Repair, Forge was expensive to improve, requiring a lot of attempts. And, even when it succeeded, people preferred to buy premade enchanted weapons from the System Shop, cheap enough to make them useless.

Especially since it took hours, sometimes days to forge a weapon according to the directions of the Forge. It meant improving the skill required months of dedicated effort and money. Some Blacksmiths took the risk during the first year, usually sponsored by richer patrons, hoping to find some kind of synergy between the two skills.

They failed.

I could have tried the same, but those days, I was more focused on collecting the data for my research proposal, which had been a similar waste. Not to mention, I didn’t want to spend months improving a potentially useless skill. If repairing a weapon according to the System instructions was a chore, forging a weapon was a slow, tedious torture.

“Let’s see if wasting material could help,” I muttered even as I pulled a few ingots and threw them into the forge, softening them. Repair improved despite cutting corners. Maybe Forge would as well. The only problem, I wasn’t sure if I could turn the results back to ingots, because they were not pure but alloys.

Due to their process of forging, alloys could be tricky to refine back.

It was a fact that was true for even the ordinary steel that the world relied on before the Cataclysm. There were hundreds of types of steel based on carbon content, cooling process, and other minute additions, and they couldn’t simply be turned back.

It was even more relevant for the new alloys, which included many other types of materials, some exclusively from dungeon drops. It was why Forging caused the loss of material. It wasn’t simply some kind of disappearance.

Of course, just like Repair, Forge's skill came with some instinctual understanding of the recipes and methods for new alloys, including the mixing temperatures, process and timing, and cooling methods.

For the moment, with my Forging below level ten, all the information I had was ordinary, requiring no extraordinary dungeon drops and other complicated stuff. Back in town, I had calculated what would it take to actually bring me to my first perk.

Technically, I could have done it below twenty silver as far as the material cost went. Acceptable … but when I included the rent for the forge, and the loss of income from dedicated time, that amount had spiked to four gold even on the most optimistic scale. Using cheap materials meant that I needed to spend weeks on a single point. A waste for a skill that would potentially turn out to be useless.

But, it was back then. I had a forge dedicated to me that I could never afford otherwise, working with alloys I couldn’t purchase.

There was still a chance that it would be a total waste, but the temptation was too strong … particularly since I could mislead Eleanor. Not by fudging the numbers, of course. Not when I could claim that those experiments were how I managed to cut the repair time to four minutes.

An innocent white lie. I had told much worse lies during grant applications.

Science might be an honorable pursuit, but the same wasn’t true for grant applications.

I grabbed multiple ingots of the variant bronze alloy — one that was stronger than steel — and threw them into the forge, letting them heat up, while at the same time, I went through the designs that the skill provided, trying to pick the simplest one.

I settled on a small dagger. Normally, it would have been a terrible choice, as there was little chance they would be sold — daggers were not exactly the preferred weapons for giant monsters — but since they would go to waste, speed, and material consumption were more critical.

Once the material was ready, I focused on the skill, trying to find the most ideal method. Unfortunately, even as my hammer landed on the first time, there was no reaction. My skill level was too low to work on the material.

“Frustrating,” I muttered. I was hoping that there would be some kind of suggestion. There wasn’t. I did my best to follow my past experiences to forge a dagger. Using long tongs, I rotated it meticulously as I beat it repeatedly, flattening it. Then, I folded the metal into two, heated, and repeated.

Only for the metal to crack. A failure. A spectacular one.

“I wish it triggered the repair,” I said. Unfortunately, for that, a weapon first needed to be completed based on System specifications. Another clumsy detail of the System.

I tried four more methods, wasting four more ingots. Ironically, since my mistakes were so catastrophic, they didn’t exactly turn them useless. I could still use them to Repair —

“Oh, I’m a moron,,” I cursed myself, realizing that I had missed something very obvious. Yes, the Forge skill didn’t tell me how to work this particular allow. But, Repair did.

With a big smile, I grabbed another sword, but this time, I followed the System's suggestions religiously. An hour later, I was not even halfway repairing the sword — not having Warm Blow slowing it considerably — but that didn’t ruin my smile.

I had already learned a lot about how to use the alloy without fracturing the metal, and the detailed information provided by Inspect already showed its worth, though only because I had spent some time trying to understand every metallurgy resource I could find.

I made another attempt to forge a dagger. This time, I managed to fold the metal six times before I ruined it. This time, it was useless even for repair work, but I didn’t care. I heated up another ingot and made another dagger. This time, I only folded the metal four times before I started shaping it.

In every objective standard, it was a terrible dagger. It was structurally weak, brittle, lacking the necessary tempering to properly hold an edge, and had multiple stress points that begged to be snapped. Stabbing someone was more merciful than giving them the dagger as a weapon.

Yet, none of those details could ruin my mood. A notification popped.

[Forge (Common) - 8 -> 11]

[Perk Options — Masterwork / Intuitive Forging]

I froze as I read the perk offers. Masterwork was one of the options I expected, but to my knowledge, the other perk was supposed to be Frugal Forge, which worked in a similar manner to Efficient Repair. Masterwork, on the other hand, provided better designs, but they cost more to complete.

“Why can’t the System give explanations for perks,” I muttered, frustrated even as I found myself in a dilemma. Should I pick Masterwork, or take the risk. But, even as I bit my lips in worry, I knew what I would do.

I had very little use for Masterwork. Even ignoring the name, just the fact that I was getting a previously unknown Perk was a good opportunity. It was very likely that I was not the first one to discover such an opportunity, but people didn’t go around sharing secrets.

I made my choice.

[Forge (Common) - 11 [Intuitive Forging]]

Curious of its impact, I started working on another ingot, forging another dagger. Once again, there was no detailed connection from the System, but as I worked, I noticed a change. Occasionally, I was getting a slight suggestion, allowing me to catch some big mistakes.

This time, I managed to fold the dagger properly ten times, and the rest of the process was smoother as well. When the dagger was completed, I had my reward.

[Forge (Common) - 11 -> 12]

“Excellent,” I muttered as I melted the daggers to destroy the evidence, and returned to my repair work. Improving my Forge skill had been nice, and discovering a new trick to use Repair to improve Forge was even better.

However, I couldn’t forget the role played by the extremely valuable tools in the forge, the kind that I wouldn’t come close to purchasing even with my newfound wealth.

I needed to keep my employer happy. Luckily, all I needed was to repair enough weapons to keep them satisfied. Luckily, since I had yet to reveal my latest achievement of dropping it to four minutes, it was easy to keep them happy. Just another improvement to a rate of twelve minutes was enough.

I received another notification as I worked, which put an even bigger smile on my face.

[Repair (Common) - 25 -> 26]

Sometimes, hard work was its own reward.