Blacksmith vs. the System 35 (Patreon)

I let my mind wander even as I moved with the group, walking toward the dungeon, easily matching their pace even as I walked on foot.

High Vitality meant that running while wearing thick armor barely counted as exercise.

Using Nurture had reminded me of the plight of the Farmers, which had distracted me. There’s not much I could do for them now, but that wasn’t true for the future. I just needed to experiment more. All I needed was to find a way to upgrade their Nurture skill like I had upgraded my Forge and Repair skills.

Well, that, and find a way to teach people without getting myself killed in the process. People in charge loved small, incremental developments they could control, but they didn’t like systemic changes.

At all.

It was why I revealed my improvement of sword skill easily even though it was exceptional, while keeping Mana Forge desperately hidden. Nothing would change even if all Blacksmiths turned into excellent warriors. At most, we would match a common warrior, operating under the same restrictions.

Mana Forging already had the potential to reshape the current economic landscape, but I couldn’t imagine what would happen if all Farmers suddenly had better classes.

While I was not a historian, as a sociologist, I had studied many social shifts in history, enough to know that people didn’t really like it when people upset the apple cart. And, while I didn’t fashion myself a Revolutionary desperate to reshape the world to my vision, I also wasn’t stupid enough to miss how others would see me.

And, people with such radical ideas didn’t exactly end up well off. They either died in a variety of unpleasant ways, or fought with the society until they won, and ended up in charge. The former was obviously what would happen, but the latter didn’t sound any better.

It was impossible, of course, but even if it did happen, it was a horrible choice. Despite everything, I was a scientist. There was nothing more satisfying than understanding how the world truly worked. While at first, I hated the System for ruining that, I was slowly coming around.

It was just another mystery to solve. One that conveniently came with its own toolkit.

“So, a new guild,” one of the guards asked, distracting me from my thoughts. “I thought you were a guild representative. What changed?”

The guards must have been gossiping. Understandable, as a new guild, one that had been escorted by Eleanor was notable. We didn’t try to hide it, as we decided that an old friend of Eleanor from a dungeon was a good, uncomplicated story most people would buy.

Unfortunately, that came with a lot of gossip. No one gossiped like patrolling soldiers.

“I was, but after seeing the dungeon, I realized that it was a good opportunity to make some money, especially since it’s ruled by an old friend. I had some money saved up, which was enough to pay the penalty and still rent a nice piece of land.”

“You’re a more daring man than I am,” the guard responded.

“No risk, no gain,” I replied. For the rest of the way, I chatted with the guards. Well, they chatted while I listened. While none of the topics they had been talking about actually interested me, as long as I looked vaguely interested, most people were happy to carry the small talk.

Another trick I had learned during my decade as a professor. No workplace was free of intrigue, but the academy was particularly egregious on that aspect. Inevitable with a bunch of overachievers fighting for very limited budget and acclaim.

Trying to keep your head down and focus on your research never worked. Maintaining a friendly distance with the custodial staff paid well for me, since most of my coworkers were more than happy to treat them as invisible.

Having a few casual acquaintances among the guards would only cost me a few free drinks.

We continued to chat even as we passed through the dungeon gate, and arrived at the encampment inside the dungeon. “Are you sure you want to go alone?” one of the guards asked even as I moved inside. “It’ll be easier with someone to distract them and get the shell. They won’t take it if there’s even the slightest crack.”

I shrugged. “Not exactly a problem. I don’t care about a few silvers. I just want to explore the floor and select which part of the dungeon is the best place to set up an operation once I start hiring,” I said.

“Good point,” he said, laughing a bit excessively to look friendly. Jokes of rich people always landed better for some reason.

Acting like I had no financial difficulty was another calculated choice. I didn’t have a lot of money — forty five golds sounded like an incredible amount, but it wouldn’t last long once the guild started operating.

But, having a reputation for being rich was a good way to stay under the radar once I started buying some weird skills.

I still picked a cart to bring with me, the biggest one available. “Wow, that’s an ambitious choice,” the guard called. “Someone is having mixed feelings about not needing money.”

Of course I needed money. And, I would have loved to fill the largest cart available with a thousand shells, which would have given me a nice payday of forty golds. Without the need for repair, it would have been an excellent investment.

But, there were two problems with it. First, I couldn’t explain why I didn’t need to repair my sword. While I could rent them — there were already a small pile of familiar swords in the corner, which people could change for pristine ones for a price — it would cut into the profit.

It wasn’t Eleanor’s fault. I was familiar with the process, I knew that they were already running it near the cost. I had discovered many ways to make the process faster, but that only solved the urgency aspect. Ultimately, it still consumed the same amount of mana alloy, which was more than ninety percent of the cost.

And, while I could repair the swords myself, bringing a thousand shells without exchanging swords would have been noticeable.

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. The real reason was that I couldn’t kill a thousand monsters on my own. Not without damaging the shell.

Unfortunately, I still needed the cart. More exactly, I needed the material of the cart. It was a mixture of iron and wood, both the cheapest alloys. For me, they represented far more than what they were valued on the market.

“Not exactly,” I said. “I plan on getting some samples from the environment. Broken rocks, soil samples, things like that. You never know what can be discovered in a dungeon.”

“Be careful. You know how the beast could be when we start damaging the dungeon too much,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, happy with the warning. Because, I didn’t know how they could be. “By the way, how much do we need to pay if the monsters destroy the cart?”

“Five silvers,” he warned. My eyes widened, but he misread the reason. “I know, it’s a rip-off. They cost something like eight coppers. But that’s how the dungeons work. Everything is a ripoff.”

He was true about overcharging, but I didn’t care about it. For me, it represented the easiest way I could get some metal for the forge I was planning to build. While I had the most fundamental tools, I still needed an anvil to experiment properly. A proper fire pit would help as well.

Dragging a cart or two with significant damage that coincidentally broke off their most metallic parts was easier to explain.

“True, but that's life,” I said. “Maybe one day we can get strong enough to monopolize a dungeon.”

“That’s the dream, but it’s impossible without accessing a good dungeon to level up first,” the guard replied. “That, or trying to level up in the wilderness like a crazy person.”

“A wise assessment,” I said as I turned my back and left. He had a point about the wilderness. Unless escorted by someone like Maria, trying to level up in the wilderness was a very dangerous affair.

As I left the small fort, I moved deeper. A monster attacked while I was still in the range of others. I could have pulled my hammer and killed it in one blow, or at least, I could have disoriented it with my shield.

However, I did neither. Instead, I moved around the beast, relying on the sword attacks to keep it distracted before I picked a moment to stab it through its mouth.

Having a reputation as primarily a sword user was another part of my new identity. One that was probably even more important than anything else. Connecting an expert swordsman to a poor blacksmith was even more difficult.

That’s why I took it down, but when I ripped the shell with my bare hands, I saw a lot of people wince. It was a good display, but it still damaged the shell enough to make it useless.

“What a waste,” I heard one of the hunters murmur.

“Rich people, man. They are all the same,” the other replied, though his whisper wasn’t as weak as they first thought.

I smiled as I walked away, feeling confident that my new identity would hold. Still, even as I moved, I made sure to stop multiple times in the view of the others, getting soil samples, broken rocks, even dried plants, wanting to sell my commitment to understanding the dungeon even more.

That way, they wouldn’t question when I returned midday to replace a damaged cart.

With that, I pulled the cart deeper and deeper, until I arrived at a concealed spot that was not near any of the five gates that led to the second floor. I didn’t want anyone to start wondering where I was. Then, I damaged the cart and ripped more than half of its metal, spending some time reforging the edges to make it look like it was destroyed by a monster attack.

Then, I walked toward the gate farthest away from the entrance. Eleanor’s map helped me immensely. Too bad she didn’t give a map for the second floor as well. It would have made moving around without risking myself far easier.

With that done, I cut a direct path toward the second floor, the immediate surrounding of the gate empty.

I switched to my hammer, and stepped through the gate.