Blacksmith vs. the System

Soon, I was standing before the residents of the dungeon, split into four distinct groups. The most crowded group was the farmers, more than seven thousand of them, pushing together tightly, understandably looking tense.

It had only been hours since they were evacuated, and they hadn't received a proper explanation other than it being a monster wave.

The second group was the guards, with Harold strategically positioned in front of them, seeming ready to support me. I wasn't afraid of a double-cross. Technically, it was a great departure from my hesitancy to trust people. I would have loved to say that I had learned to trust people more.

Harold had been the highest-ranking guard for less than an hour, which was one of the things Eleanor and Maria arranged before their departure, and with his track record, I could leave the dungeon operations to him confidently.

Though, if I was being honest, it was easy to be trusting when one had the advantage in power. Even without the unlimited mana from the dungeon, and the decay attack, I was confident that I could take down all the guards single-handedly.

The third group was the various production classes hired in the city: a few blacksmiths had been hired, a few masons, and a smattering of other classes that I didn't have the full list of. For the moment, they were easy to ignore.

Then, I turned my attention to the fourth group, the most confusing one among them all. The meager guild of Rosie, which had suddenly turned far more enigmatic after the warning message we received from her, triggered an unexpected chain of events.

I ignored the second, third, and fourth groups for the moment, and turned toward the largest, and the most fragile group. Their faces were etched with exhaustion and uncertainty, which was understandable. Sometimes, worry was far more exhausting than hard work.

I could see the doubt lingering in their eyes, fueled with a sense of powerlessness. A look that I was intensely familiar with from seeing it in the mirror, one that I felt whenever one of my applications had resulted in a rejection.

It was time to see if I could change it.

"Everyone," I began, my voice steadier than my confidence justified. "First of all. Let me inform you that the greatest dangers we are facing have been resolved, and we have destroyed a cowardly enemy force, consisting of several hundred level warriors, but not before they had cravenly destroyed a nearby dungeon, filling our land with monsters."

I could see fear, hope, and disbelief mixing on their faces. Some believed, while others clearly thought it was nonsense. But, none of them interrupted, which was the best I could hope for.

"But, they made a mistake. The army of monsters they let out, hoping to destroy us, is actually a whetstone to sharpen your edge. When we finish dealing with it, every farmer that's willing to face the dangers will turn into a powerhouse that can single-handedly clean a dungeon."

That statement was met with disbelief. Farmers just gaped in shock, while the guards reacted to it with mocking disbelief, treating the idea of farmers getting stronger as a joke.

It was the judgment time to see if my idea of a grand reveal would be useful.

"I know you can do it. After all…" I paused even as I reached for my belt and pulled a smaller hammer, one that clearly didn't belong to the battlefield. "As a Blacksmith, I know the limits you can reach intimately!"

The sudden shock in the air was beautiful. The utter disbelief on the faces of the farmers, the shock of the guards and other town workers… and the late, feigned shock from the members of Rosie's guild, which was something I was happy to act like I hadn't noticed.

A murmur rippled through the crowd, confusion and surprise spreading through the farmers, but the guards looked angry.

I could see Harold whispering several sharp orders to the ones that were looking the angriest to prevent an outburst.

Shouting for silence was an option, but I decided to go for something showier. I raised my hammer, and used the Quake attack on the nearest rock, which turned into dust while the sound exploded like thunder.

[-210 Mana]

The visible explosion of ability was enough to quell even the angriest-looking guard. Even with — likely supernaturally enhanced — prejudice toward the production classes, it was hard to stop themselves from imagining in the place of the rock and testing how they would fare.

It probably wasn't enough to dissuade them forever, but I would take every second.

"As you can see, the idea surrounding the production classes, that they are useless, is nothing more than nonsense. What you lacked all along was an opportunity. An opportunity that was granted by our foolish enemies."

I paid only a glance to the guards to confirm Harold was able to maintain discipline after my display before I turned back to the Farmers, whose disbelief was starting to mix with hope. It was better than I had hoped.

Maybe my help with their Nurture skill was more effective than I had been hoping for.

"The dungeon will give you the skills you need, while the monsters outside will allow you to improve your levels and upgrade your classes, and soon, you'll be strong enough to fight against many warriors," I declared.

Their expression turned into hope, while I reached my bag and pulled out an alloy. I could have reshaped it with my hammer, but instead, I hit it several mana blasts in quick order, turning it into a beautiful sword, one that I flicked toward Terry, my prospective assistant. He grabbed it, looking fascinated. "How about it, Terry? Do you want to show the world that even with the Farmer class, you can fight for a place for yourself?"

"W-we really can?" he asked, hesitant.

"Of course," I said as I turned to Harold. "How about a little demonstration about just how strong a mere blacksmith can be, acting commander of the guards," I said.

"As you wish, master," he replied, his choice of wording, along with his bow leaving him no doubt about how he saw his position even after the reveal. The other guards looked at each other, no doubt coming to some conclusions about his knowledge and his most recent promotion.

It wasn't entirely accurate, but I was never shy to use information asymmetry to my benefit.

"A light demonstration is all we need," I said. "So, pick twenty guards to fight against me at once," I said.

That earned a gasp of shock. Not everyone had seen me fight, and the declaration of my true class had created some misunderstandings. A reminder was required to teach them the truth.

In general, the guards were about as strong as the ordinary members of the team that tried to ambush me and Eleanor in the dungeon, but their weaponry was significantly inferior, while I was significantly stronger.

The ability to use mana attacks recklessly with each hit rather than rationing them carefully alone was a big game changer.

Harold looked hesitant at the declaration, but he still turned to the guards, who numbered around a hundred. "Any volunteers, boys?"

About half of them raised their hands, while a few of them, including the previous commander who had suddenly found himself as the second-in-command of the guards, just took a step forward, showing their intent to challenge me.

"Well, since all of you want to fight, feel free to come at me all once," I said, which made the guards even angrier. "Just one reminder. If any of you have weapons or armor that you cherish for personal reasons, leave them behind."

"I don't think that will be a problem, sir," the old commander said. I had to admit, I was impressed. I had never heard the word sir being pronounced like the f-word.

I was happy with it. It was not only a chance to reinforce my authority, but also a way to give Farmers hope. With the monsters around the dungeon getting more and more crowded, I didn't have days to waste.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," I said even as I switched to my war hammer. Technically, the spear would have been more efficient to deal with a crowd, but hit-and-run tactics wouldn't give the real image. "First, let's make sure that everyone can watch the battle easily," I said as I waved my hand, and the dungeon mist dispersed in a wide area, earning shocked gasps.

A little showmanship never hurt. I could already see several guards looking hesitant, and a few quickly changed weapons, showing that they took my warning seriously.

"Attack," the old commander ordered, frustrated, and the fifty guards rushed me without a plan, hoping to overwhelm me with numbers. I didn't know whether it was the arrogance that led them to not put together a proper plan, or the fact that a careful, strategic approach where fifty guards turtled carefully to defeat me would have been the admission of their inferiority in the first place.

Not that it truly mattered.

What followed was a total beatdown, where I systematically destroyed their armor and weapons and and armors — and breaking the arms and legs of the stubborn people, but without using mana to make sure they could heal easily.

"I think I made my point," I said as I looked at the old commander, who looked at me with frustration as he sat helplessly on the ground while his Health helped him to recover from a broken leg. He didn't look angry at his wound, probably because he knew that I could have vaporized his leg if I wished.

"Yes, sir," he said, his tone carrying a hint of disbelief, but mixed with respect.

Production class or not, a beatdown was quite memorable.

"Excellent," I said, then I looked at everyone. "Like before, everything is on the basis of volunteering. If you don't want to fight, level up, or don't want to take a certain skill, you don't have to," I said.

With that, the excitement was turning palpable.

"What is the first step, sir?" Harold asked.

"Simple," I said. "I want a hundred volunteers to learn smithing from me. We're about to fight a war, and the first thing we need is more weapons!"