Blacksmith vs. the System

It was a short speech, but it didn\'t matter. The guards, led by their instinctive revulsion at being ruled by a production class member, wouldn\'t listen, and the mood of the Farmers was too high to care about speeches. The gains they had achieved, both in terms of level and combat skills, were enough to keep them happy for a few days.

And, I doubted that I could give a proper speech, not when I was occupied by the choice in front of me.

Not that there was any other real option for my ultimate choice despite the creepy name. There was only one class that carried the name of my overpowered Meditation skill that almost killed me, one that leaned even more into my connection with the dungeon.

It was another blind choice, but at this point, I was getting used to it.

Once I entered the dungeon, I directly opened the gate to the fourth floor, which was the safest place to go through the class upgrade under the circumstances.

And, I chose Smith of Decay.

[Class upgrade - 01%]

Immediately, I felt the mana drain, this time moving to the opposite side, draining the dungeon of it. I expected to stay still while the class upgrade progressed calmly, but that was not the case.

Instead, my gaze faded, and I once again found myself floating in a dream. It was different this time. Not a grand, cataclysmic battle like before, but something more intimate, more focused. I stood at the edge of a dense, alien forest, the air filled with the hum of insect wings. Around me, strange trees reached toward a sky that shimmered with a perpetual twilight. Their bark glistened with a bioluminescent glow, casting eerie shadows over the land.

A sight that felt strangely homely despite looking like a landscape from a horror movie.

However, while it was not a battlefield, it was not free of violence either. Two groups of humanoid insects were fighting. One group was the one I had seen in my dreams, their carapaces were decorated intricately, and they fought with precision. Each one carried weapons crafted from various materials, ranging from metal to obsidian, and their formations were as precise as their weapons.

The other side, however, was far more animalistic. They carried no weapons, nor did they show any kind of tactical brilliance. They just rushed forward relentlessly, their weird cries enough to unsettle me.

However, one thing was clear. Despite their horrid mutations, it was clear that both groups belonged to the same roots, not changed by the chaotic abandon.

The battle unfolded as I watched, the alien war cries mixing with the death cries of the insects. The defending side was winning, but not without taking some losses. More importantly, I could read a sense of familiarity from the way they fought, one that signaled that it wasn\'t the first time they were experiencing that battle.

Yet, even with their losses, they didn\'t despair. Instead, they fought with a fluidity that suggested years of practice. Every thrust of a spear, every block with a shield, was calculated. When one warrior faltered, another stepped into their place without hesitation.

A tragic battle, one that looked like it would go on forever as the corrupted ones threatened to overwhelm them in great numbers. For everyone that fell, two more took their place. The creatures swarmed like a plague, forcing the disciplined warriors to retreat step by step, their tight formation fraying under the relentless assault.

Until, a familiar figure appeared. The giant insect with the staff, was one that I had seen during the earlier battle. It wasn\'t as large, and the golden runes over his carapace weren\'t as bright, but somehow, I was confident that it was the same insect.

I watched from a distance as it waved the staff, and a suffocating aura of decay destroyed the corrupted insects en masse. I couldn\'t help but feel fascinated by the display, especially since I had my own Meditation skill modeled after it.

The spell was far more intense than the decay I had sensed in my Meditation skill, not to mention far more layered.

Once the battle ended, I felt the world shift, and I found myself in a vast, underground chamber, covered with obsidian walls, intersected with the same bioluminescent wood that grew in the forest, providing a dim light.

It was a council meeting.

I couldn\'t understand the language, if it was even a mainly audible language in the first place. I could only read their body language, their posture and gestures barely hinting at the emotions behind their discussions.

At the center, the same giant insect I had seen earlier stood rigid, in a way I read as defiance. It gestured around the others who circled around him, who seemed to treat the discussion negatively.

It was not much, but understanding that much alone was something impossible. I shouldn\'t have been able to read their completely alien body language, but I somehow caught the general perspective.

It was highlighting a sense of emergency, a plea for assistance.

Another leader stepped forward, its carapace a deep obsidian black. It radiated authority, though its posture was even more rigid than the others, his position clearly negative.

Both parties had supporters and detractors, the discussion growing more heated, until finally, the one with golden runes declared something, threw down his staff, and left the council room.

No other insect followed, but the shock that defined the room was palpable. Whatever had happened, it was big, incomprehensibly so, though whether the trespass was political, social, or religious, I had no idea.

Maybe a combination of all three.

I had a feeling that he would get back that staff, as both its age and its position indicated that the desperate last stand I had watched belonged to a later timeline.

But, before I could receive an answer one way or another, the world shifted once more, and I was back on the fourth floor, at my lab, breathing hard. But, unlike the last time, I wasn\'t writhing in pain, which seemed like a big victory.

Before doing anything else, I closed my eyes, focusing on the dungeon entrance. It was midday, but a quick examination showed that at least one day had passed.

Still, the defenders were calm and orderly, showing that the passage of time hadn\'t caused any devastating losses, which was more than what I could have hoped for.

But, even as I glanced through the connection, I noticed the sight was clearer, requiring far less effort. The same was true for my surroundings. Everything was the same … yet different. I didn\'t require my full genius to guess it likely had something to do with my new class.

I summoned the screen, only to gasp in shock.

[Smith of Decay - Level 50]

[Health 3000/3000] [Mana 2500/2500]

[Vitality 250 / Strength 200 / Dexterity 150 / Essence 250 / Wisdom 150]

[Skills (9/15)

Meditation of Decay (Mythic) - 100 [Controlled Flow, Superior Sensing, Purification]

Mana Repair (Epic) - 103 [Advanced Observe]

Mana Forge (Epic) - 313 [Advanced Creative Forging, Advanced Mana Control]

Nurture (Epic) - 219

Quake Hammer (Rare) - 200 [Persistent Tremor]

Blade of Retribution (Rare) - 200 [Strike of Retribution]

Breeze Spear (Rare) - 200 [Floating Stride]

Fire Bolt (Basic) - 25

Shoot (Basic) - 25]

My gasp of shock was followed by a chuckle. Somehow, after dreaming of Intelligence for years, I ended up with the other mental stat.

Wisdom.

"Okay, what do I do with it?" I muttered though those words weren\'t some kind of reluctant rejection. I had no doubt that it was a treasure. No stat was useless, that much was clear, and receiving such a strong variant was certainly an incredible opportunity.

However, it was also one stat I had no idea how to handle, so I tried to focus on the others I could comprehend first. It was a good habit to experiment. When facing a complicated topic, I preferred to focus on parts I could understand first.

Here, the problem — if I call it that a problem in the first place — was that I knew exactly how to handle the other stats. Strength would allow me to hit harder as well as help me to work with the metal smoothly, Essence would allow me to handle more mana, Dexterity would make me more flexible both in a fight and during work, and Vitality was equally clear.

Yes, there were many strategies I could focus on, but for once, I found myself unable to focus on anything but the unknown, my methodological approach failing me.

It was experimentation time.