Blacksmith vs. the System 66-70

— Chapter 66

I stayed with the Farmers while the raffle was being prepared, and watched while the schedule was set. I even made a copy of it in the view of everyone. I had no intention of checking the schedule of eight thousand Farmers, but just having that opportunity would intimidate some with bad intentions.

I didn’t have the time to micromanage them, so such subterfuge was necessary. Then, I left, leaving the task of arranging the operational details to Harold. I needed to rely upon him a lot for this task.

There was a benefit to handling the management of the Farmers through Harold. It was a well-known fact that not being seen too many times helped reflect a sense of authority, which was why even the generals before the Cataclysm didn’t fraternize with the rank and file, but it wasn’t the reason I didn’t stay with them.

No, I had a simpler reason. I had a lot of work to do in the dungeon.

Since I had officially mentioned to Eleanor that I would be building a forge in the dungeon, I needed to do so. For that, I would have to set up another forge, this time in a hidden corner of the second floor, maybe dig a cave for it. Admittedly, I had no intention of actually using that forge. It would be entirely for show.

I just needed a location for Eleanor if she wanted to visit.

Meanwhile, I would be splitting the actual task of forging the required materials between the third and fourth floors. The armor and the spears I planned to forge had to be made on the third floor, as they would be made of ordinary materials, and just staying on the fourth floor would destroy them.

Luckily, the arrowheads would be corrosion-resistant, so I could handle their forging on the fourth floor.

It was important. Unlike the armor sets and spears, I would be forging an absurd number of arrowheads, and on the fourth floor, I could use the steam engines to make the process even faster. And, the less time I spent on routine tasks, the more time I would have to explore the fourth floor without people getting suspicious.

I was glad that I had revealed part of my subterfuge to Eleanor and Maria. Not having to hide everything from them meant that I could do much more. Just the fact that I could bring sealed boxes in and out of the dungeon was a game changer.

“Now, the hard part,” I muttered as I left the town behind, and started walking the road between the dungeon and the town, alone. I wasn’t walking because I was suddenly unafraid of another possible assassination, but because I was afraid of them.

It was a simple bluff. The thing that was keeping me safe was Thomas’ erroneous belief that I was above level hundred. Even if he suspected that there had been something wrong with using Charisma, he would still believe that I was near that point.

It would make assassinating me the worst way to sabotage the town, especially when Maria and Eleanor were around. Luckily, my earlier stay in the dungeon could easily be explained as staying to protect the dungeon rather than trying to stay safe.

“I just hope he’ll think like that,” I said even as I left the road and started to walk in the wilderness. Naturally, many wild monsters attacked, but they were not even a challenge to my Stalwart Guard, let alone my Quake Hammer.

With its proficiency at its limit, the skill was truly amazing. For example, I could confidently face a team of assassins even if they chose to attack together. I wouldn’t, of course, not if I had any other choice. Why should I have suffered a brave last stand when I could easily ambush the enemy?

If it wasn’t for my confidence to defend myself — or at least, escape — I wouldn’t have dared to walk into the wilderness. After all, there was a chance that Thomas could ignore all the reasons that made me a bad target and attack me.

“Now, let’s get to work,” I said to myself even as I found a small cave and entered it. After killing the monsters inside, I paused for a moment and used my Cleansing Meditation to absorb the mana they let out.

[+15 Mana]

Monsters outside didn’t have that much mana in them, so killing almost thirty of them barely gave me fifteen points. No wonder mages didn’t want to live here. However, I noticed something interesting, which was only possible thanks to Cleansing Meditation.

The monsters outside also had a minute amount of tainted energy. Not as intense as the monsters in the dungeon, and likely not the same kind. But, it was an interesting detail. However, it wasn’t the time to explore that.

I started digging a tunnel through the dungeon floor, my Strength allowing me to handle that task at a quick pace, especially when I could use Vitality attacks against any rocks. Using mana would have made things easier, but I wasn’t entirely sure that I had no one following me.

I traveled almost a thousand yards like that, and, at my point of exit, I used the camouflage ring to walk another three hundred yards, found a new cave, and repeated the pattern twice.

Once I finished that, I modified the surface layer of the armor completely. The shape, the patterns, everything. Luckily, I had long designed my armor to be two-layered, with the top layer only there as a distraction, so it worked well enough.

I even created a new, large spear to give my alter ego a different identity. Of course, it was not actually a spear, but a hollow tube, which I used to check for mineral deposits. Luckily, iron oxide was easy to recognize. And, since I was merely searching for something with around five percent purity, rather than above fifty percent like any sane commercial operation would, I was able to find enough material to forge my boxes.

Not having the necessity to carry boxes of iron helped.

The reason for my complicated travel plan and disguise, which included even some material sourcing, was simple. Once I started arriving with the mysterious metal boxes, people would start looking for them. I needed a reasonable excuse. So, once I was deep in the wilderness, I used the ores from the surrounding area to create a simple, sealed metal box that was larger than my body.

The box had two features. On its surface, there was a stamp, with the text of Mystery Delivery. And, inside, there was another stamp, with the phrase ‘Better luck next time’. The trick was simple. Once I started arriving at the dungeon with boxes that were supposedly filled with treasures, people could start looking for them.

I created those boxes as a simple trick. Once I buried enough of them, it would give them a good idea about the method. My secretive supplier would bury hundreds of boxes around, and supposedly inform me about the correct delivery.

For that reason, the boxes I forged were nothing I couldn’t do when my Forging was merely at ten. After all, they were merely decoys.

That, along with my growing reputation as someone supposedly at or above level hundred, should be enough to deflect the attention.

For the next eight hours, I went deeper and deeper into the wilderness, using Fleeting Step to move faster than should have been possible, leaving boxes in the hilltops and valleys, each far away from one another, creating a very complicated treasure hunt. I could have done so without much fear because the monsters in the mana dead zones weren’t as dangerous.

Of course, that should make living in mana dead zones a better option. It meant the area was more secure. However, the economic disadvantages created by a lack of environmental mana — like the fact that we needed almost ten farmers just to support one warrior operating in the dungeon — were obvious. Then there was the even more important fact that leveling was difficult.

Technically, both could be bypassed. Unfortunately, the security was not always guaranteed. It was safer under normal circumstances, but not during exceptional events. There was always a chance of a dungeon break from an undiscovered gate, or a monster horde could drift near while they were migrating.

There was a reason that our current town had many expensive and rare siege weapons.

Well, that, and the nighttime was still dangerous.

Once I had arrived near the dungeon, I modified my armor back to its previous state, once again using mana allowing me to bypass some cumbersome steps. I created ten of those delivery boxes, and even created a fully metal cart I could pull along, and arrived at the dungeon.

In front of the dungeon, there was a line, where the guards were carefully patting down every entrant to make sure there wasn’t anyone smuggling dangerous lure potions or other items of sabotage.

“Hey, why’s he not being searched? He’s bringing that much stuff inside —” one of the new arrivals questioned. A guard silenced him by poking him with the end of a spear. The others in the line were quick to get the message.

I deliberately acted arrogant and aloof, different from my attitude around the guards. With my fake identity getting more and more complicated, the less interaction I had with the others, the more I could maintain that.

The guards said nothing even as I brought a huge delivery into the dungeon. I moved at a leisurely pace, ignoring the people trying to follow me without being too suspicious. After all, they didn’t dare to follow me to the second floor immediately. And, the moment I arrived at the second floor, I demolished the cart and the boxes back into ingots.

I used Fleeting Step to disappear into the dungeon mist, making it impossible for anyone to follow me even if they were inclined to do so.

I had a full night to forge everything I needed.

*****

— Chapter 67

I first stopped by the fourth floor to bring a large cart filled with iron ores. These ores would be used for all the necessary materials, which came in three main categories. Namely, armors, weapons, and various other implements — farming, construction, shell removal, and arrow making.

The function of each category was obvious. However, their design was not straightforward. As long as I had the silver, I could easily forge fifty copies of my armor that would keep them safe from anything that the first three floors could throw at them. But, that was not an option because of the nature of my cover story.

While everyone else should believe that I was getting deliveries from an enigmatic delivery company, Eleanor and Maria were aware of the truth. So, if I armed the Farmers with a high-quality silver-iron mana alloy set, they would catch on that something was wrong.

Luckily, that level of defense was not exactly necessary for the first and second floors, considering they would be armed with crossbows. It just needed to survive one or two attacks from the monsters.

Instead, I decided to use a design from the System: a loose plate armor, which should be useful against both insects and human threats without hindering their mobility too much. I had used the design from the skill wholesale, without making even the slightest change.

These sets of armor were similar to those that could be purchased from a System Store. Yet, it was something an ordinary Blacksmith should have been capable of, as long as he spent a lot of money and consumed a lot of materials to improve his Forge skill, which should keep Eleanor and Maria from asking too many questions.

Creating fifty of them in one night was a bit excessive, but I could always claim that I had spent the last week doing that. However, those fifty armors were barely worth a few gold coins when purchased from the System store, so there would be no such questions.

There was a reason people didn’t care much about Blacksmiths. The System Store always had better and cheaper alternatives.

Unless, of course, one decided to be a little unconventional.

Of course, the desire to make them look like System store purchases wasn’t the only reason I stayed loyal to the design of the skill. Using the skill directly meant that I could forge the armor far faster. A part of it was the high proficiency, making the earlier steps easier. The other part of it was the skill guiding me on exactly how to use mana to bypass many steps, from the alloy structure settling crystals, to proper cooling.

It was hard to keep track when I could easily forge an armor in less than a minute. An absurd speed that was only possible because the material wasn’t mana alloy. Forging those still took far more time.

However, speed wasn’t the only reason. Quality played a role as well. While I was able to come up with a lot of specialized designs, from a more generalized perspective, they were still extremely inferior.

The same was true for the first set of spears I had designed. They were made of the same iron alloys I used on the armor, which would work well against any threat, including humans.

Once that was complete, I went to the fourth floor, but I didn’t immediately start forging arrowheads. It would be faster for a day, but considering the amount and the scale I required, I didn’t want to spend an hour every day wasting my time on repetitive work.

Instead, I created myself a nice setup. It had three steps. First, in a large cauldron, I would mix molten iron with the dungeon crystals and finely ground giant monster shell — which I could hunt en masse believably thanks to my improved sword skill — while I used my mana to stabilize the process, giving me the necessary raw material.

After that, I would pour the mixture onto a large tray, with arrow-shaped holes in it, with a lid that overlapped. Together, they functioned like a traditional sand casting. Of course, in that traditional casting, sand was used, because the molten metal would meld together.

Then, I put that tray into specialized shelves to cool down, and worked on a second tray.

For that, I covered the bottom layer with a layer of sand, so it could be separated easily, and the top part could be pulled. Once I did so, the arrowheads came as one connected sheet. To deal with that, I designed a huge scissor, made of composite structure. It allowed me to use an oversized mana blade to cut the arrowheads from the bottom.

The system was still primitive, but only the first part required me to use the Mana Forge skill.

As long as I had the materials ready, I would be able to forge tens of thousands of arrowheads at once.

The ability to use Mana during forging was just as big of a game changer as using it during combat. Too bad I couldn’t sell my products openly without turning myself into a target. If I could, I would have just moved to a city and worked from the safety of a proper workshop rather than in the middle of a dungeon with a permanent corrosive mist that destroyed everything that wasn’t designed for its unique nature.

Once the arrows had been completed, I brought them to the third floor before sealing them inside identical iron boxes, to be used in the morning.

With that, most of the preparation had been completed.

The next task was simpler. I finally opened the box Eleanor had brought for me.

[Skill Stone: Blade of Retribution (Rare)]

It was a domineering name, which was the only thing I knew. When I asked Eleanor about it, she had just smirked playfully and asked me to trust her. I chose to do so, particularly since it wasn’t exactly as critical of a decision as she might have considered.

Ultimately, for me, a sword was a supporting weapon at best.

Of course, there was no reason for Eleanor to sabotage me, particularly through an expensive tool like a Rare skill. I had no idea about the current state of the skill market, particularly when it came to the more expensive skills.

Without thinking any longer, I accepted.

[Stalwart Guard (Uncommon) 100 -> Blade of Retribution (Rare) 1]

After the discomfort had disappeared, I once again grabbed the fragile composite sword with gold filling, designed for ranged attacks. A few mana attacks were enough to push the skill to a high level.

[Blade of Retribution (Rare) 1 -> 79]

As the information flowed into my perception, I started analyzing the merits of the fighting style, and the first thing I could say was that Eleanor had picked well. The sword was truly excellent for a Blacksmith who decided to embrace the blade over the hammer.

In a way, it was not too dissimilar to Stalwart Guard, as it relied on defense and strong counterattacks, relying on the pairing of a shield and a sword, but there were significant differences as well. It was optimized for a bigger, almost oversized sword — though it could still function well with a smaller one — and it was more mobility-dependent than Stalwart Guard.

I had to admit, even without the advantages that came from the tier upgrade of the skill, Blade of Retribution was a much better style. Stalwart Guard was better for fighting as a part of a small team maintaining formation while relying on the shield. Blade of Retribution was more reliant on mobility and footwork.

It was even better for my case, as my Dexterity was higher than an ordinary Blacksmiths', which meant I could fight better.

“Now, to improve, or not to improve,” I asked a tree. Unfortunately, it didn’t answer, leaving the decision to me. The decision was tricky. Improving meant that I could defend myself better, particularly against public threats where I might be reluctant to show my Quake Hammer.

And, it wasn’t just another assassin I was thinking of. If I were Thomas — or, one of his advisors — I might have bribed a few other people to find a reason to fight me. Unfortunately, for a warrior and a guild leader, there would be times I couldn’t refuse such challenges, particularly if they were nonlethal.

Not without raising a lot of questions that are best left unasked.

Alternatively, I could have kept my improvement slow, which would be more convincing to Eleanor. In the first half, I could claim that it was the learnings from the Stalwart Guard, but anything above a hundred would be a harder sell.

A tough decision, indeed. Though, I had to admit, even the ability to ask such a question was a luxury in the first place. It was only my systematic approach and my extensive preparation — mixed with some considerable luck — that had allowed me to ask such questions in the first place. Anyone else had to improve the old-fashioned way.

It was easy once I figured out the trick behind it … but then, I wasn’t exactly sure that was the case. I claimed the same when I was eleven and started learning college-level math questions on my own.

In the end, I decided to maximize the skill. On one hand, failure meant I needed to find an excuse to give Eleanor, while on the other, failure might mean death. “I just have to refuse duels for a week or two,” I decided. Hopefully, exhaustion and being busy setting up my guild would be a good excuse. She should be busy as well.

Even if we were available, I could still try to sandbag the duel. It would be hard, but the closer our skill level, the more believable it would be.

 In the end, anything under a month to max out a Rare skill would be suspicious, so I didn’t even bother to try.

Instead, I spent an hour practicing everything that was granted by the Rare variant to make sure I had a good handle on what it offered below a hundred, before I went near the trees, and started targeting the insects with the ranged mana attacks.

Those ranged attacks were significantly worse than just cutting them directly, but the fragile blade couldn’t handle it. And, the aim wasn’t to kill them, but to maximize the attack.

[Blade of Retribution (Rare) 196 -> 200]

[Perk Options — Strike of Retribution / Swift Step / Unbroken Guard]

“Difficult choice,” I said even as I read the available options. Strike of Retribution and Swift Step were both equally appealing. In the end, I decided to choose the Strike of Retribution, which turned out to be a ranged vitality attack.

It merely consumed forty Health, and delivered a smooth cut. I was happy with its existence.

But, even as I practiced, I realized that I neglected to check one important piece of information. I didn’t know if Perk Reset stones worked on higher-tier skills.

“Another problem for the future,” I muttered even as I started working on a new sword design, my new Perk already teaching me new things.

*****

— Chapter 68

The rest of the night had gone well. I even had a chance to catch a short nap. One that barely lasted three hours, but it was all I could get sleeping in the dungeon.

Once that was done, I went to the third floor, piled everything into a new cart — which included a small batch of fertilizer mix — and went back to the second floor, then the first floor, deliberately using the gates at the opposite sides. The gate was a good place to camp. It was away from the operations, while it was also fitting to expand the operations between two floors.

When I arrived at the first floor, I found Harold, along with fifty farmers, each holding a crossbow, practicing with targets they had set in a corner. “Good initiative,” I said to him.

“My pleasure, sir,” he replied, while the rest of the Farmers looked settled into their roles.

“Take four guards with decent Strength, and follow me,” I said. “You’ll be responsible for the defense of the new camp.” That was not a part of the agreement I had with Maria, but sometimes, it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.

Not that they would have refused. Our deal was heavily skewed to their favor — something deliberate on my part — while five guards were nothing they couldn’t give up.

I wanted them for two reasons. First, they would be responsible for cranking the crossbows until I could make a device that could handle it, but, more importantly, they were there to prevent any possible harassment from other guilds.

The guards might have refused, but my reputation for generosity proved useful. Instead of trying to get away from the task, the guards were competing for the opportunity. And, the best part, they still worked for Eleanor.

No other guild’s freelance work would have been treated as such an advantage. Admittedly, I would have shared that opinion a week ago, when I was trying to scrape funds for my experimentation, but the current situation wasn’t the same.

“Gather together, and don’t make too many sudden movements,” I warned the farmers. “We will protect you, but if you panic and run away, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

Then, I left the command to Harold, who was far more capable when it came to handling things while another guard started pulling the cart I had brought. Meanwhile, five of the farmers were dragging a large, wooden water tank with wheels, which was necessary to slowly grow the trees.

 I took the point, killing the monsters with a slash while I used the extractor — the old, clumsy one made of bronze — to remove the shell.

“Watch carefully, you’ll be doing that as well,” I warned them even as we slowly traversed for a distance.

It was a good chance to show the process and remind them about my capabilities at the same time. The Rare skill flowed even more smoothly, enough to fascinate them. I was so lucky that Thomas had sent his assassins without proper time to practice, or my fate could have been different.

“We’re here,” I said as we finally arrived at the spot I had picked as my guild’s permanent camp. The epicenter was just a hundred yards away from the dungeon gate leading to the second floor. Meaning, we didn’t have to deal with it currently, but as we expanded, the small fort could grow to take it in, with a corresponding defensive structure on the second floor.

With the ability to easily produce arrowheads, it should be easy to scale up. I just needed to purchase more crossbows.

The rigidity of metals didn’t allow me to make a bow out of them entirely.

“Now, I want you to be responsible for the camp security while I handle the construction,” I said to Harold and the guards while I passed them five swords I took from my assassins, which I had modified further.

“Sir, are you sure?” Harold asked as he grabbed the sword, his expression wide. “These must cost a fortune.”

“They are valuable because I won them in battle,” I responded. “So, I won’t be happy if they leave the camp.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to use them to hunt directly,” he asked.

“Not unless you’re confident you can kill two thousand insects a day,” I responded. His widening gaze told me that it was not exactly a viable strategy. It wasn't a surprise. Any guard that was willing to join a new dungeon where they could only level up to thirty — well, forty was the absolute limit, but that was hardly efficient — wouldn’t have a valuable class.

And, getting Rare skills wasn't exactly easy, even with my setup. It required piling multiple giant monsters, and then it needed to give a combat skill rather than Nurture, which seemed to be the most common skill stone.

“Still, wouldn’t it be better to find five elites and rely on the swords to finish the dungeon?”

“No,” I said, but I didn’t bother explaining further, maintaining a sense of mystery. “Just kill any beast that gets near,” I said. The guards looked hesitant. “Don’t bother trying to keep the shell intact. Just cut them, and shout if there’s any sign of a swarm,” I said.

I cracked open the first metal container, one with farming implements and other construction tools, though they were made of more ordinary alloys. “Now, grab a shovel, and start piling the dirt to the side,” I ordered while I started digging a deep pool, which not only started to agitate the nearby monsters but also the farmers.

“Sir, shouldn’t we be responsible for manual labor?” one of them asked hesitantly.

“It’s faster this way. Just grab a shovel, and start piling them to the side. I want a square, with twenty yards on each side, to my left.” For now, it was just a slightly elevated ground where the crossbowman could stand.

It was small, but once completed, it would function as intended.

Once the pool was deepened enough to easily hold all the water we had brought, I let it pour. It was not the ideal way, but since it was going to be a temporary one, it should function well enough.

Sometimes, good enough is all that’s needed.

“Now, who has the highest farming skill,” I called. They looked hesitant. “Anyone with Farming above twenty-five,” I asked. None of them raised their hands, but their regretful expression showed that they were not happy about it. “Fifteen?” I asked. This time, three people raised their hands.

While that number was low, I couldn’t blame them. After all, didn’t I suffer from the exact same thing when I was trying to improve Repair and Forge?

Production classes required a lot of resources to improve. And, if they were valued enough by their previous employer, they wouldn’t have accepted Maria’s offer to come to a mana dead zone.

“Good, how about Perks,” I asked. While asking about the Perks might be considered invasive for the combat classes, production classes didn’t share the same concern. Particularly the Farmers. “Tend,” two of them answered. “Resistance,” the third one answered.

“Alright, all of you, come here,” I said even as I pulled three potted bushes I had brought from the third floor. I wanted to see how their abilities stacked.

For two of them, I put some alchemical booster and watered them well. At the same time, I used some of the broken shells that the guards had collected in the process to the base of the plant. For the third plant, I didn’t add any alchemical boosters and assigned the one with Tend to it.

“Now, I want you to use thirty Health on the plants,” I said. They did, looking exhausted in the process.

The two plants only got slightly greener, while there was no reaction with the one without an alchemical booster.

“I … I gained a point of proficiency,” one with the Resistance perk gasped. One of them with Tend shared the same expression, while the one without the alchemical booster looked disappointed and fearful at the same time.

“No need to panic, we’re just testing,” I said. “Go and eat something,” I said even as I called two more with Tend perk. “Now, I want you to spend all of your Health to keep the plant alive,” I said. Then, I added a few drops from my alchemical mixture.

The plant died, while the two who tried to save them looked shocked and guilty at the same time. “We’re sorry, sir —” they started, their panic obvious, only to fall silent when I gestured.

“Don’t panic every time,” I said. “We’re just trying something here. Now, is there any improvement?”

“No, sir,” they said, which didn’t surprise me. A dead plant was a clear-cut failure, and skills rewarded success. It might have been different if they could have improved the plant until they stopped feeding Health, but even as they used the skill, the plant died.

“Should we set a Nurture circle, sir?” one of them asked.

“Nurture circle?” I asked.

“We pick a plant, add a lot of fertilizer, and use our Health one after another to enable the growth. It’s the fastest way to grow plants.”

“Interesting, but we don’t need to waste time on it for the moment,” I said. Instead, I uprooted one of the bushes, and put my hand on the other. “Just set a bucket chain.”

“S-sir. Too much water without a Nurture circle would kill the plant —” he started, only to gasp when I put my hand on the bush, and fed it with my Health.

[-42 Health]

The difference between Common and Rare Nurture showed a difference. I didn’t spend any more Health than they did, but the bush not only grew, but it also transformed, its misshapen branches straightening as it turned into a tree.

It was good, but not as good as using the poisonous water from the fourth-floor swamp.

The farmers around me froze, gasping in shock as the newly apparent tree had grown to an incredible size. “You have Nurture, sir?” Harold asked, shocked, who was close enough to watch the show.

“Of course, you never know when you’re going to need some emergency food in the wilderness or a dungeon,” I answered.

“Well…” he started, but I could see the hesitancy in his face, often when people were about to say something extremely insensitive. I guessed that there was some prejudice about warriors ‘wasting’ a skill slot.

“We can talk about it later,” I said. “Now, you bunch look like you have a question.”

“S-sir. If we’re not needed to grow plants, why are we here?” one of them stammered, no doubt afraid to be discarded. I hated the way poverty and discrimination ground people’s will into dust. But, fixing it would be a slow process.

Especially since the people in power preferred it to stay that way.

“You’re here to kill monsters, of course,” I responded. “Why do you think you’re training with the crossbows,” I said. The shift of emotion was fascinating. “But, you can’t start leveling before we finish growing these trees. Now, buckets!”

This time, they moved at a fascinating speed.

*****

— Chapter 69

“Not bad,” I called twenty minutes later, examining the tiny orchard we had created, though speaking out loud was mostly for the benefit of the new hires, as they still looked skittish.

After all, the orchard was underwhelming compared to what I had created, there were merely ten trees, and only one of them was as tall as me. Nine of them were smaller. I could have triggered their growth just as easily, but the water we had brought was mostly gone, and the rest was earmarked for the next experiment.

Technically, Nurture was incredible enough to force their growth even without water and other nutrients, but then it would have slowed down enough to be completely pointless.

“Next, break a branch, and heal it with Nurture,” I said. Alchemical fertilizer Maria had allowed the tree to generate a new branch, but it was slow progress. My mixture worked much better this time since the tree was strong enough to handle the poison.

“T-three points,” one of the farmers gasped, looking shocked, while all the others looked regretful.

“Don’t worry, all of you will have a chance to improve your skill to at least twenty-five,” I said, underselling the potential significantly. Luckily, improving a common Nurture skill was hardly extraordinary.

People did not try to optimize it, because there was no strategic value to it, not when Farmers were the cheapest talent in the market.

I thought about offering them one of the Rare nurture skills, but I decided against it. While it might be the cheapest Rare skill, it was still a rare one, and I didn’t have hundreds of them. Keeping them for the ones that I eventually wanted to hire was a better option.

Once the branch was ready, turning it into a crossbow bolt was easy. I already had the device to cut it into the perfect shape, and plugging it in place was just as easy. More common arrows would have used some special glue, screws, or another solution to make sure the connection stayed secure. Since our arrows would shatter at one attempt, there was no reason to risk it.

As for fletchings, fashioning one out of wood was enough. It wasn’t the ideal material, but it didn’t need to be. With the mist in place, we were only trying to hit targets at thirty yards. Even without a skill, that was an achievable target.

With a skill guiding the attack, against a monster that only charged at a straight line, missing was harder than hitting the target. And, with the material of the arrow especially effective on them, it was inevitable.

“Now, try and see if you can pull the bow back,” I said. Unfortunately, without Strength, only two of them were capable of it, and both of them struggled for almost a minute. I made a note to put together a simple device to assist it.

“No matter,” I said even as I quickly cocked every crossbow, the pressure as light as a feather under my touch. “Harold, leave one direction free and come here,” I said. “You’re responsible for reloading the crossbows.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, but I was able to catch his slight dissatisfaction. It might be a while since I had to deal with a bunch of overeager doctoral students, but I knew exactly how people looked when they received a task they disdained.

A problem that was best nipped in the bud. “Look, they are still a bunch of people with no combat experience. I need someone excellent to command them from up close, someone that can keep them alive.” It helped that I was being honest. His role wasn’t exactly glamorous at this point, but very important.

Harold had the necessary common sense to manage the situation.

“I won’t disappoint you, sir,” he said.

I nodded before I returned to the front line, where five farmers were looking scared and excited while they held the crossbows. “A-are we really going to kill monsters, sir,” one of them asked, like he still couldn’t believe it.

I didn’t blame him. Dungeon access was an expensive luxury. Well, at least ones as smooth as our current one, with an open, straightforward surface. Based on what I had collected, the really dangerous ones — the ones that were even more hostile than the fourth floor — worked in reverse, with guilds getting paid to control them. But, those were not relevant for Farmers.

“Yes,” I said. I thought about mentioning that I planned to give some of the profit as well, but I kept my mouth shut about it. No need to overwhelm them.

We waited a bit, and soon, an insect drifted forward. All of them shot at it at the same time, and two of them missed in a hurry. Still, three bolts were enough to kill the insect as they shattered inside it.

It wasn’t a coincidence. I had already tried it before, and anti-corrosive material functioned akin to poison for these monsters. It penetrated through the armor only due to its unique properties, shattering in the process. And, the pieces worked like poison, because they were made from the shells of the giant variants.

“I … leveled up,” one of the farmers gasped.

“Good, but next time, wait until it gets into thirty-yard range before shooting, and use your skill properly. Also, don’t shoot at the same time, but take turns. No need to get too excited.”

“Now, bring the crossbow to Harold, and pick a new one,” I said, and watched them kill the monsters as they got near.

“Should we extract the shell,” one of the others asked.

“It’s not urgent,” I replied. “I don’t want you to start extracting before you put on armor. I don’t want friendly fire,” I said.

I let every single of them kill a few monsters, before I asked another question. “Is there anyone that’s still below level ten?” I asked. No one answered, but their smiles were a bit silly, like they were drinking. I didn’t blame them. The sensation of leveling up was fascinating, especially in the lower levels. And, for people who were unlucky enough to receive Farmer class, it was even more incredible, as most of them weren’t even level five.

They might be receiving only one Vitality and nothing else, but it still meant twenty Health points, and faster conversion of food, both critical for their farming abilities. Also, I was observing them. While the lack of stats meant that their outward potential didn’t match what others were showing, Vitality still gave them a general improvement.

For example, they were able to load their crossbows without assistance. It was still slow, so using the guards as a chain was still better, but I was hopeful that it would turn unnecessary soon. At least, for the current ones, which were pretty much the weakest on the market.

I would still need to figure out a solution if I were to ever upgrade them.

I didn’t allow them to start collecting before every single one of them donned the armor, and got used to moving in it. Luckily, the System design was lightweight, ergonomic, and adjustable, making the process easy.

Only then, I allow them to start collecting the shells, the extractors working just as well as a hunter using his skills. “Excellent work,” I said even as I started assigning tasks. “Now, we’re going to have five teams. Hunters, construction workers, farmers, arrow makers, and a reserve force. To start, fifteen will be hunters, and ten will be in the reserve force.”

“What is the job of the reserve force, sir?” a farmer asked.

“For the moment, collecting shells and making sure crossbows are loaded. However, in case of a swarm, I want you to be able to distribute crossbows to everyone while you all pull back to the fort.”

“A swarm. Is that likely, sir?” another asked.

“Maybe,” I responded. “But, it’s nothing that can’t be handled as long as we build the keep. And, with me here, there’s no need to fear any swarm,” I explained.

I waited until the farmers started operating, and soon, they started collecting shells. The numbers were not particularly impressive — well, by my standards, as I had no doubt that they would easily surpass any other guild’s output with ease — but it didn’t bother me.

After all, it was just a proof of concept, one that had worked. The first floor of the dungeon wasn’t teeming with monsters, so the number of monsters that chose to attack us was the main limiting factor. It would change once I was confident enough to let them roam without supervision, and it would get even better once I let them establish another fort on the second floor.

As the hunting team and reserve team spread around the base, the guards stayed back, doing nothing but watching with their swords in hand.

“It looks promising, sir,” Harold said as he got near me. “But, wouldn’t it be better if we can find hunters? That would be far more efficient I think.”

“Sure, as long as you can find me a thousand hunters in less than a week, we can do that,” I replied, and his eyes widened.

“A — a thousand, sir,” he gasped.

“A thousand, for each shift, rotating with eight-hour patterns,” I added, which made his eyes widen.

“I … I don’t think that will work, sir,” he said, looking reproachful. “Not unless Lady Eleanor allows you to monopolize the first floor, and even then, it won’t be efficient. There’s a limit to the number of monsters. Maybe a thousand in total, rotating in three teams?”

I chuckled. “Oh, I didn’t know the dungeon only had one floor,” I responded. His eyes widened as he realized what I was talking about. And, once pointed, he didn’t question it. After all, the biggest challenge on the second floor was the presence of the ranged attackers, easily destroying armor and weapons.

Crossbows had better range.

“What’s next, sir,” he asked.

“Three things,” I said. “I want you to arrange for professionals to build a two-layered defensive encampment around the warehouse. Nothing too tall. Just five feet would be enough, but make it thick so that monsters couldn’t chew through it easily. I want another wall around the dungeon gate in case of an emergency.”

“And, the third one, sir?”

“I want you to come up with various scenarios. Assassination, monster swarms, fighting with other guilds, each solution prioritizing the lives of the guild members over material savings. And, make sure to train everyone on how to respond.”

“I won’t disappoint, sir,” he said.

“I hope you won’t,” I answered even as I grabbed the empty cart, and walked toward the gate leading to the second floor. “Now, you take the command while I go and hunt on the second floor.”

*****

— Chapter 70

Going to the second floor and leaving the operation alone was deliberate. While I wanted to set up a sustainable hunting operation, I didn’t forget the real reason for it. Money was nice, but it was still a side benefit. A space I could freely experiment in was the part I truly valued.

Yes, I could stay there to improve the camp far faster, but the more I stayed with them, the more dependent on my orders they would become. It was another lesson I had learned from my old career as a professor, trying to lead the doctorate students. I might be able to answer their questions far faster than they could come up with on their own, but that meant they couldn’t solve problems on their own.

I needed them to operate independently. I deliberately added the task of designing emergency drills to Harold, as a challenge and a test. After all, I needed someone to deal with the guild operations, and he seemed to have the right mixture of deference and initiative. As an added benefit, it was someone trusted by Eleanor enough to be put in a position of command.

Amusingly, I was the only guild leader who would classify that as a benefit. In the end, guilds and the town had a complicated relationship, a mixture of both economic and military forces. Hiring one of the guards would reveal a lot of secrets that a guild would have liked to keep hidden.

Information asymmetry was a more dangerous weapon than any sword.

That was not the only disadvantage of my operation. Technically, by letting the operation develop in a way that didn’t require me to solve the problems directly, I was potentially creating competitors. Now that I had revealed the arrowheads, it wasn’t impossible for someone to reverse engineer it — or, failing that, start purchasing similar equipment from System shops to test it. It might mean some of my guild members splitting to build their own guild.

Luckily, that was not a concern for me. The more guilds operated in the town, the stronger the town would get, which meant I could operate more freely. And, if I really wanted to make money, I could easily sell it to other guilds.

With the ability to mass produce, it would be much easier.

While it was not a problem for me, it was one for the other guilds. I didn’t know how bigger guilds handled that risk. Eleanor had mentioned that there was some kind of method that the bigger guilds had to prevent it, but even she didn’t know too much about it, making it a difficult solution to implement.

“It’s hunting time,” I said even as I rushed to the fourth floor at full speed. There was a reason for my hurry. Now that I had established a guild, I was responsible for it. I didn’t particularly care for the efficiency of the operation, as I could already make the necessary ammunition en masse, which meant that, even with all the potential problems, it would still be profitable.

Their security, on the other hand, was a completely different matter. Even without possible interference from Thomas, the other guilds wouldn’t be happy to see us succeed. And, the dungeon was a dangerous place.

My presence could easily intimidate them, but if I made a habit of staying away from the base for a long time, they might start to get ideas. It meant I had to show up often, preferably with a random pattern, to make sure they couldn’t plan around my absence.

For that, Fleeting Step helped, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the advanced version of Swift Spear included an even better variant.

So, when I arrived at the fourth floor — switching to my best set in the process — I stopped by the base just enough to get my crusher, before I moved to the other side of the second ring, which I created to capture the beasts. There were already a lot of giant monsters, but they weren’t enough for my purposes.

I tightened my grip over my hammer, crushing a few shells to replenish my mana completely. Then, I opened the box, triggering an artificial monster swarm. Then, I killed thousands of monsters, my hammer moving like I was in front of an anvil, not bothering to remove their shells, knowing that it affected the skill drop rate significantly.

I was glad that I had long learned to use a weaker version of Fleeting Step without the assistance of the skill, as it allowed me to stick to using Hammer while I dealt with the horde. It was critical, as without the vertical mobility it gave me, allowing me to climb on the monsters with ease, I might have ended up buried under their bodies.

The utility of mobility was difficult to overstate. For once, I was glad that the Stats were not very well defined. While every Stat had a role based on the class, Blacksmiths received Dexterity to improve hand-eye coordination, but it also increased footwork and general flexibility as well.

It was certainly beneficial.

As I killed thousands of monsters, I made sure to leave them in piles of fifty, which guaranteed the drop of a Rare skill, their shape and glow making them easy to distinguish. Unfortunately, that ease didn’t apply to the content.

After an hour of steady hunting, I managed to collect a hundred skills, and sixty of them were Nurture. Of the remaining forty, I had two more Quake Hammer and the rest was incomprehensible because I lacked the prerequisite stats.

“Frustrating,” I said even as I created another pile of monsters. It truly was, especially since I couldn’t level up no matter how many monsters I had killed. I wondered if the other types of monsters could help me level up. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the opportunity to experience that. Maybe if I could find the fifth floor —

My thoughts had been interrupted by the new skill stone that appeared, which gave me exactly what I needed.

[Skill Stone: Breeze Spear]

The moment I got that, I went back to the base and absorbed the skill. At this point, improving a Rare combat skill was something I had already optimized. A composite spear to allow me to use mana attacks in ranged form was all I needed.

It took me barely twenty minutes to improve it to the peak of nothing. I was happy to note that Breeze Spear was even more reliant on mobility. Combined with what I had learned from my Fleeting Step, it allowed me to move even faster.

[Breeze Spear (Rare) 197 -> 200]

[Perk Options — Floating Stride / Hurricane Stab / Mercurial Dodge]

“Please no,” I gasped even as I read the Perk options. One in particular caught my eye:. Floating Stride. I wanted to ignore it and choose Mercurial Dodge, but in the end, I still chose it. The ability to move faster was exactly what I needed.

“Surely not,” I said, trying to convince myself, but the moment I used it, two things happened. I lost a hundred health.

And, my skill took over my body and I jumped. Soon, I found myself floating twenty yards in the air, my body clenched with fear. The fear was intense enough to forcibly disturb the control of the skill, and I landed on the ground with a loud crash, the metal armor and the metal floor creating a very explosive sound.

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” I asked myself. “Merely twenty yards, and even landing on a metal surface didn’t damage me. Harmless.”

Unfortunately, my amateurish attempt at self-therapy didn’t work as well. I still sat on the ground, my hands trembling badly while I breathed in and out, trying to stave off a panic attack. Doing that with my skill should have felt safer than relying on a griffin or a plane.

After all, I trusted the skills enough to deliberately trigger a swarm of monsters consisting almost exclusively of giant insects and fight against them. Why couldn’t I trust them to give me a vertical jump ability of twenty yards, with some kind of floating mixed in?

It was only rational, right?

Unfortunately, as much as we wanted to believe otherwise, we were not rational creatures. Hell, as a sociologist, I made a living out of studying how that shaped our society.

It took five minutes for me to even stand up. “I’m so glad I need to visit the first floor,” I said to myself even as I went back, the attacking monsters were merely a nuisance. Once I was on the second floor, I started hunting, once again using the mana trick to quickly kill the monsters and remove their shells with one hit.

Ideally, I should have been trying to integrate the Floating Stride into my moves. It was an excellent time. Instead, I relied on the movement trick I developed based on Fleeting Step, unable to bring myself to repeat it.

I remembered my old therapist likening facing my fears to fighting monsters. It turned out that she was wrong.

Fighting with monsters was easier.