Blacksmith vs. the System

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

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

[-1 Health]

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

Still, I stayed at the center, watching the golden flickers dance 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 had 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 where a wrong move could cost me my life. The prudent thing would be to keep my head down and get away… but then what? What did prudence give 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 laid. 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 and picked from one of the clean weapons.

The weapon I had pulled was some kind of short sword that was reminiscent of a thicker gladius as I closed my eyes and 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 them so tainted. But, I saw that they 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 the 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.

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 employers 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 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 annoyance.

Unpleasant, but considering I was able to finish the work in fifteen minutes when the contract required me to sharpen 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 such a luxury.

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 push 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 had 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.