dirk_grey
patreon
Blacksmith vs. the System 168
🕑 Added 2024-12-28 08:00:00 +0000 UTCFor the next half an hour, the siege continued without a break, the beasts attacking us regularly, one that gave me some highly coveted rewards.
[Level 59 -> 60]
[+5 Vitality, +4 Strength, +3 Dexterity, +5 Essence, +3 Wisdom]
The sensation of tightness whenever I leveled up was certainly annoying. However, every time I leveled up, the sensation affected me less, making me hopeful that whatever was in place to prevent me from using my External Skills would eventually disappear on its own.
However, despite my improving level, I wasn’t feeling particularly happy, for one important reason. The mana levels of the dungeon had already dropped below what I was comfortable with, forcing me to be more selective with my ranged attacks.
Luckily, at this point, every soldier had reached to high thirties in terms of level, some of them were already in forties, which meant they worked well.
Though, it was a pity that the kills from the steam cannons didn’t register as kills, or things would have been much simpler in terms of leveling up everyone.
I wanted to replenish my reserves, but every time I moved to drain some of the tainted energy, the flying forces moved closer to the base, forcing me to return before I could get anything worthwhile.
I had to admit, it was a good strategy. It wasn’t even wasteful considering all they were throwing at us was endless monsters that were provided by the dungeon. All they needed to do was to stay there, and continue to send monsters against us until the mana of the dungeon was depleted.
I needed to find a solution for it, I decided as I tapped my feet carelessly, the echo of the metal giving me comfort.
During a relatively calm moment, I moved to Harold, and raised another dome to discuss strategy. Once I explained the situation, he looked stumped as well. “I don’t think we can do much, sir,” he admitted. “The moment you disappear, they will attack, forcing us to react. And, we don’t have the elite to block them.”
“Yeah, the situation is bad,” I admitted. “We’re already lucky that they don’t have any mages to attack from a distance, nor did they bring siege weapons of their own.”
“True,” he admitted. “If only we had a way to collect the energy from a distance. But, any force we send will be harassed before they could make too much difference unless you lead them, and if you do…”
“They will attack the base,” I completed, feeling trapped. It was frustrating that, even with all the tricks we had developed, I was feeling helpless, enough that I was considering the merits of abandoning the gate. However, doing so would cede our biggest advantage.
I was not ready for it.
“Too bad we can’t just install pipes to collect the energy, sir,” he commented.
“Yeah, too bad —” I started, then stopped. “Or could we?” I asked.
“Sir?” he asked.
“Continue leading the defense. I think I solved it,” I said, then dropped the dome, even though I growled in frustration. Sometimes, I truly missed the most obvious solutions. I had already worked with tainted energy enough to know the ideal patterns to contain and direct their flow.
All I needed was to modify the plates into a transmission line carrying tainted energy. Two outer layers to contain, with one core line to enhance the spread, not entirely unlike an underground water pipe. It would be slow considering the viscosity of the tainted energy, but as long as I created multiple lines, each with a large container attached at the end, it should work.
And, since the floor was already covered with metal, I actually had the hope of achieving it without alerting them.
I moved forward, using my feet to deliver the necessary mana to make the changes. Soon, I passed the front line, where the thick tainted energy continuously accumulated. Naturally, the scouts raised an alarm, signaling the approach of the flying forces, and I returned.
My smile was hard to hide as I did so, as under my feet, I could sense the flow of the tainted energy. Once I arrived at the defensive line, I created a large area to slowly collect it … and moved to the next area.
It turned into my new routine. Every few minutes, I would rush forward, only to be ‘forced back’ by the flying squad, using that to add multiple underground transmission lines, working only thanks to the suffocating levels of tainted energy.
With that, the battle had fallen into a new rhythm. Whenever I stood above one of the storage spots, I surreptitiously consumed the tainted energy that had been collected, not only replenishing the mana I had spent, but actually refilling the reserves of the dungeon.
It was the kind of deadlock I appreciated. I was especially glad that I had done my best to create an effective deadlock, in which the enemy spent more and more resources while my reserves kept getting replenished.
[Level 60 -> 61]
[+5 Vitality, +4 Strength, +3 Dexterity, +5 Essence, +3 Wisdom]
When another level hit, I felt something inside me tighten, almost shattering before tightening once more. I hoped that it meant whatever was keeping my External Skills unusable was about to disappear.
And, the enemy seemed to continue reflecting the same attack, which I was starting to get suspicious about. So, when there was a lull, I retreated back to the observation tower.
“Status?” I asked as I gestured at them to pass me the spyglass, listening to the roar of the steam cannons. They might not have gunpowder, but it didn’t exactly make them silent.
“The main horde already lost a fourth of its numbers, but we have counted over a hundred boss monsters, seven of them flying, which seems even more advanced. All but one are close enough to engage with us if necessary.”
It was kind of scary with all that effort, and we had barely managed to take down only a portion of the wave, the weakest portion at that. They seemed to be happy trying to finish our shell reserves, which, luckily, was not even a concern. It was the one advantage of having a modern production line run by workers with supernatural abilities.
Still, the battle was nowhere near coming to a close. I wondered about the seven flying bosses, and the situation regarding them.
“Interesting, point me to the one that’s staying away,” I asked, suspecting that it would have the leader of the attack. The asking was necessary, as the beast horde was simply too crowded for me to pick the right direction, and the constant haze, dust, and ash clouds hardly helped.
One of the scouts pointed, and a little adjustment later, I saw where he was pointing. Zoomed all the way, the spyglass allowed me to catch the gargantuan flying lizard, reminding me more of a dragon than a lizard.
As it moved, it was hard to catch the presence of the people on top of it, but after a few seconds, I managed to catch a glimpse of a familiar face that shocked me.
Thomas.
It wasn’t his identity that shocked me. The whole reason his backers had targeted us was his presence. What surprised me was his face, currently visible since he didn’t bother to wear a helmet. His face was familiar, but the occasional scales on his neck were not.
He had gone through the same transformation despite the very obvious drawbacks.
The fact that he went through the same transformation scared me, but not due to the most obvious reason for increasing his personal threat. The biggest threat he offered was Charisma, and I didn’t know how it interacted with the mutation.
And, I certainly wasn’t scared of his tactical acumen. Charisma might allow him to command his forces with scary accuracy, but it didn’t change the fact that he was a terrible general. He might be a good tactical commander in a dungeon — at best — but he lacked the personality for a true battlefield. Worse, he was the kind of commander that thought himself smart. Combined with his cowardice that overestimated every single power display to the point of uselessness, his strategy actually worked against him.
Honestly, things would have been much harder if he just let all the boss monsters attack at once. I probably could have killed all of them, but not before those boss monsters killed half of my forces.
But then, he likely didn’t care about it. After all, why care about a bunch of farmers. For once, I was happy with his disdain.
Despite everything, his presence and current situation still scared me, because he went through the transformation in the first place.
While my direct interactions with him were limited, indirectly, I had a very good idea of how he operated. Ultimately, he was a coward, and a spoiled brat at once, not willing to take even the smallest risk. If he was remotely competent, the town and the dungeon would have long fallen under his control.
That cowardice meant that he was the last person to risk himself to take revenge for his compatriots, or risk himself on a desperate mission. If the organization that supported him lacked the forces to support him, he would have turned his back and left.
His transformed presence meant one of two things. Either the organization was punishing him by ordering him to attack, or he was afraid of the punishment enough to be proactive rather than merely running back to his family.
Either way, it only confirmed that the organization I made an enemy of was a truly dangerous one.
“Back to war,” I started, but just as I was about to do so, I felt a small mana flare from one of the scouts, one that came from his pocket.
I did my best not to react, but he called me. “Sir,” he said with a trembling one.
“Tell me,” I said.
“I-it’s the guild master,” he said. “She wants to talk.”
