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Blacksmith vs. the System 299
🕑 Added 2025-09-06 03:04:01 +0000 UTCThe Tristelion ambassador didn’t stay for long once he convinced me that I would support him in his desire to get rid of his bodyguards, though in his case they were more like wardens. I wasn’t sure how to handle him exactly, whether by just snitching on him to his bodyguards or using the opportunity to turn him into a prisoner once he conveniently brought himself to a concealed spot, but I didn’t have much time to decide.
The moment he left, I had to deal with a deluge of other visitors, coming from towns and larger guilds, anxious to make a connection now that all three cities had had their turn.
Some brought gifts, already collected and catalogued by the guards, while the others came with platitudes, promises, or sad stories. I listened and nodded, occasionally showing interest in what they were telling, but not promising anything no matter how compelling their stories or how valuable their payment.
Not before Rosie received a detailed proposal and vetted their situation.
At this point, we rivaled even the best city when it came to weapons, at least when it came to selling them to outsiders. Frankly, it was a touch surprising, as I would expect them to bring some truly high-end weapons from their home planets, but maybe whatever transportation method they used had other limitations than not letting the ascended leave.
However, while the reason for the lack of equipment was important in the long term, in the short term, I was more than happy to take advantage of the disparity. I had yet to see the gifts we had received, but considering most visitors indirectly referred to them with confidence, it implied that they were valuable enough.
More important was the scale of the trade deals that were offered, either some more common material in bulk, or high rarity skills that were difficult to come up with. Even if only a fraction of those trades were ultimately successful, it would overshadow everything we had gained from the Drakka war, once again proving that trade and cooperation were the true linchpins of development, far superior to feudal destruction.
That realization didn’t make me relax. Ultimately, I was aware that, the more we earned, the bigger target we would have on our back. I had no doubt that, if it weren’t for our absolute advantage in defensive warfare, we would be dealing with threats rather than lucrative trade offers.
It was also related to why I was reluctant to take the opportunity to maximize our immediate benefits. Each trade line, each large order would force us to expand our protective web, which in turn would weaken our concentration of power.
We couldn’t afford that, especially not mere days before we make an attempt to establish our port.
Even without that huge project, I would have to be careful. The war between Asterion and Drakka had been an excellent case showing the dangers of overextending. Each controlled an area ten times larger than what we controlled before the war, and that didn’t include the indirect sphere of influence. Before the war, that allowed them to collect incredible benefits.
Once the war started, that expanded area of influence turned into a burden, causing unnecessary losses. They weren’t able to control it properly.
“I wonder just how much of it is due to their home planets extracting most of the value they were able to collect,” I asked myself while I took a sip from my drink, enjoying a rare moment alone since the dinner had started.
Four hours after the dinner had started, I had talked with the most, and the remaining ones showed little intent of talking with me, more interested in talking with each other, their attention sharp.
They were probably using us as an excuse to achieve their true aim. It was all going well —
A sudden laugh rang in the room, interrupting my thoughts along with every single discussion that was going on in the room. “What nonsense. All of you, simpering around a mere blacksmith, begging instead of ordering properly. A mere protection class daring to give himself a title! A disgrace!”
I turned toward the source of the sound, only to see it was one of the people who were sitting at the edge of the room, yet to initiate contact. Though, from the way his companions looked, I could see that was not something they planned as a group.
With a wave of my hand, I dispelled the privacy ward around me, and I stood up. At the same time, I gave Rosie a signal, asking her to check the perimeter. The declaration came too suddenly to be anything but a planned act.
All that remained was to understand the objective. A distraction, a test … or maybe something else entirely. The suddenness of the action meant that I didn’t know what to do.
I was ready to skewer him with a metal spike growing from the ground, but he continued to sit, like he believed he was perfectly safe. Seeing he was not about to act, I turned my attention to the others. The people around him did the smart thing, evacuating the surrounding area. Meanwhile, my guards started to move toward him until Rosie gestured to stop them.
A good call, I decided, catching the gazes of Selene and Lord Marshall, gesturing to both of them to stay away. Lord Marshall just nodded, while Selene smirked, a smile too excited for me to be happy. In comparison, I didn’t care much about the Tristelion party, as they immediately retreated.
Smart, though I doubted it was about them reading the situation correctly. Each bodyguard was more interested in watching the other bodyguards and their ambassador than in paying attention to the situation itself.
I might be underestimating the full extent of their internal conflicts with Tristelion. Their situation was even worse than I expected if even their bodyguards couldn’t cooperate. Such a complicated city could easily explode at the slightest provocation, and as a neighbor, it would inevitably affect us.
Whether it was good news or bad news for us, it was difficult to say. With the arrogant youth still watching me, it wasn’t time to ponder feudal geopolitics.
Instead, I stood up, and started walking toward him. I took my steps, slow and measured, echoing on the marble floor. Marble floor that hid a thick metal foundation, a foundation with many runes buried in its core, which I could weaponize a dozen ways, effects ranging from imprisonment to extreme lethality.
After all, I had to have some insurance before letting myself be surrounded by almost two hundred foreign guests.
It was also the source of my confidence as I walked forward rather than taking action. Even if he had some very dangerous tricks, I was confident in handling them. There was still some risk, but I had to measure it against the potential impact on my authority, and my reputation. It was not vanity that drove me, but cold logic.
With our city growing, the easiest way to destroy us was to damage authority, and I wasn’t naive enough to believe it was impossible. Not when I had already lived through a similar issue with the guards. The inherent biases of the System meant that any misstep that wouldn’t even register from a warrior class had the potential to destroy our cohesion, especially with the newcomers.
Ultimately, I could reverse it simply by revealing my Charisma, but that, I didn’t want to do unless I was driven to a corner. Not just because it was extremely valuable as a secret trump card, but because I didn’t want to rely on Charisma.
Its effect was too insidious for me to rely on it with any peace of mind.
I continued walking, still slow and measured, each step reflecting a more mundane kind of authority. Pure posturing, one that allowed me to stretch my Perception and Wisdom to the limit, doing my best to read the emotions of the target.
What I found in the young man was interesting. Arrogance was there, but without the anger I expected to find. Nor did I find any cold calculation. I merely found amusement. Either he was so delusional that he didn’t understand what he had done could be taken as a challenge leading to a deadly duel … or somehow, he was strong enough to ignore the risks.
I hoped that it was the former, but I was afraid that it was the latter.
The closer I got, the more I started to notice. Neither his sword nor his clothes were notable. Outside, they would be treated as high-end, but in the context of the current meeting, they were merely acceptable, nothing too notable.
The only exception was the ring on his left hand. A matte, slightly darkened silver ring, easy to dismiss as a keepsake or a cheap accessory. I
Interestingly, even with two Mythic craft skills developed to the limit, I would have dismissed it as such if the situation hadn’t required my absolute focus. Even with that, I could only say that the ring was some kind of defensive tool, with little understanding about its specifics.
That meant I was not dealing with just a delusional bodyguard or a wandering warrior delusional about his might, but something more.
Potentially … much more.
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Moon Winchester
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