Blacksmith vs. the System

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 as 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 interruption, 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 had found myself in a messy situation. Before the Cataclysm, such a thing might have meant character assassination in the media. In this new world order, the character part was not excess.

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 that.

Which was why I called Eleanor — one of the two that ruled the camp — and the more relevant party when it came to threats. Camp security was her responsibility, and I preferred to coordinate with her rather than ignoring it. She was the closest thing to a cop, and I rathered not to 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 it\'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\'d be best to leave it to an expert."

"Good call," she said even as she used the flat side of her sword to put the parchment into a small bag, then checked the pouch. "It would have burned the moment you touched it. Though, I\'m impressed you\'re able to refuse bribery. Fifty gold coins is not a small amount." I gulped at hearing that. "Having second thoughts," she asked.

"No. I\'m just afraid of what they\'ll do next if their first move is to bribe me with more than what I was making yearly," I replied. Unfortunately, that 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 with which I had 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 away. "You forgot something," I said, pointing at the pouch still sitting on 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 to me. 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 the possibility for a lot of things: new skills, better equipment… and, most importantly, it was 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.

This time, my work on the blade was done 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, rather 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 working, pushing my attention to the limit. It was quite tiring. One disadvantage of not following the instruction of the skill was that it got mentally exhausting. I couldn\'t just let my mind wander while the skill handled 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 the duration of my work 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 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 at which my skill had managed to reach the next stage.

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

But I was not repairing them with perfect adherence to the suggestions of my Repair skill either, 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 could there be? 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 deferred from the scientific process.

"Finally, a chance for proper scientific study," I said in excitement. It wasn\'t exactly the way I preferred. I rather worked on the mathematical models and conceptual designs while my doctoral students dealt 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 job.