Day 2, 10:05 AM
“But?” Edna asks impatiently, proverbial sparks flying from her glaring eyes.
“But that is not the wisest approach. If the Guide can be gamed in this way, maybe there is a way to cheat around the attributes as well. But to do that, I need to go to a wormlord’s dungeon, activate my Guide, and see what else I can come up with. Unfortunately, you mentioned inquisitors keep watch over the entrances, somehow finding any aspiring mages and burning them on a stake. Is that right?”
Edna nods. She eyes me suspiciously, but she really did say that she was unable to enter the dungeon to increase her attributes and combat her memory overload that way.
“I am almost positive I can find a solution to that conundrum if I delve into a dungeon for a while, but I can’t be a mage if I want to do that.” I exert my charisma over her, and after a lengthy silence, Edna nods.
“Very well, it is possible that as a mage you would encounter another impossible level up condition, maybe even before reaching my level. We should at least try to get you into a dungeon, but for that we need to do several things. I must sculpt your face and body, so that nobody recognizes you as Fyoor, you need to take a new class and abandon your old one, maybe get used to a different name. The Guide only shows your latest class, so your existing levels shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Why would my class be a problem?”
“The inquisitors have an ability which allows them to see a person’s class and level to gauge the strength of their enemies and locate their targets. Being a wandering level nine herbalist after a level eight herbalist killed their priest would get you killed or captured and thrown into a pyre.”
That also means getting killed.
So, the consequence of being discovered is death, and the consequence of being a mage is being on a constant lookout for inquisitors or dying to your carelessness. Escaping into the wilds is not even an option according to Edna, the mutants living there are too lethal unless you wield potent magic. And all I wield is an uncanny nose.
So the plan for now is to stick close to civilization, get out of a crazy witch’s clutches, and somehow learn magic, because it seems like a good way to transcend mortality at the low-low cost of painting a target on my forehead.
“In that case, I would be grateful if you could alter my appearance and tell me how to change into a class that makes sense for delving into the nearest dungeon.”
“Most dungeon delvers are hunters, mercenaries, or soldiers. You become a hunter by hunting in the wilds and bringing your kills back home, to become a mercenary, you have to fight someone for a reward, and to become a soldier, you have to join the guards, since there are no more armies left. Regular soldiers could only act as bait against the horrors, and such practices were abandoned early in the war.”
Edna obviously doesn’t know it, but being a bodyguard is also on the table, assuming I want to protect her or someone else. I consider the notion of sacrificing myself for Edna, and bodyguard is out of the question.
“How often can you change classes?”
Edna shrugs. “It rarely happens. People usually take several levels in their class and only start considering a class change after years of stagnation.”
Yeah, I have similar thoughts, BSD changed my class only after significant events, and after I stopped being what I was before.
How do you even stop being a herbalist? Probably by not having contact with herbs for an extended period. It will probably be fine to recognize them, since I can’t help that, but I should refrain from gathering even the most valuable ones.
“Do you have any weapons? A sword, an ax, daggers?” Maybe there is a more generic warrior class I can take, probably not as good as something specialized like soldier and mercenary, but if it has subpar skills, it should be easier to level up.
“I have a big butchering knife.” Edna offers, snuffing out that idea. I guess being a hunter will suffice.
“Which tools do you use for hunting?”
“Spears, snares, and javelins.”
“Do you have any of those?”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“No, not really, but I can make them.” And she does, in short order. A spear is just a long stick with a pointy end.
I abandon my staff training and watch her instead. Chunks of wood fall off seemingly on their own as she chants and holds the biggest, thickest pole she had. The pointy end is really pointy, probably too long, considering it’s made of wood, but it should be fine as long as the shape matches my purpose.
Her song changes and black and green motes surround the rough wooden pole. They dance atop it, spinning and twirling, but as her song intensifies, the particles draw closer to the timber until they fuse into it.
“What did you do?” I ask a couple moments after her song ends.
“I made it tougher. Mages don’t need metal to make something as hard as metal.” She’s all smug, but I would be too if I could infuse wood with metal hardness.
“How tough is it?”
“Tougher than bronze, as light as wood.”
“That’s impressive,” Blunt voices my praise, and I continue. “If you can make metal-like objects this way, I have a couple requests. Could you harden my staff and make me a sword, a dagger, a cudgel, an ax…”
My list is cheekily long, but in my previous life I have mastered several weapons. They all have their advantages and disadvantages, and there’s no way to know which is superior against the monsters she mentioned until I face them. I prefer fighting unarmed or with sticks and clubs, since most of my anarchist bonuses apply to those methods of combat, but every tool has its use.
I expected Edna to protest, but she picks up another piece of wood and starts making a thin-bladed sword. Heavy weapons were superior with my old body, but Fyoor was more agile than strong, and slim, precise weapons may be the way forward until I bring my strength up.
Well, since she’s working on our goal, I should too. I focus back on the staff, perfecting my form with a body very much unused to physical exercise. An hour later, Edna has made a single-edged sword, a hunting knife, and a cudgel.
[Ability - Initial Staffmanship acquired]
“Finally!” I thought that given my level of proficiency and the ungodly number of hours I have spent training my favorite weapon in my previous life, I would get the ability after swinging the staff a couple times. Instead, it took well over an hour to hammer out all the mistakes.
“What happened?” Edna looks up from the hunk of wood she started sculpting.
“I regained my proficiency with the staff. Spear is up next.”
The spear took two hours, the sword three. Edna had finished making weapons for me long before I acquired my second ability, but she kept watching me.
“It’s impressive,” she says as I pick up the ax she made.
“What is?” I check out the weapon. I thought the sword was slender to account for my new physique, but I was wrong. The ax is massive, and she seems to know little about weapons. The limiting factor in making these was the size of the wood she used, as well as weight distribution, which is horrible.
“You certainly were a warrior. Fyoor never touched anything other than his herbalist’s knife, but even as you just start swinging a weapon, I can tell you are close to mastery.”
I chuckle. “I’m a long way away from being a master. All my weapon skills are at the initial level. The guy who trained me had Advanced Spearmanship, I think. I was four times his size, and he beat me silly. I’ve trained for years and never reached his level.”
We chat as I swing the uncomfortably light battle ax, and I can feel the split focus harming my training.
“Pardon me, Edna, I don’t mean this as an offense, but do you mind if I focus? I would like to advance to Initial Axmanship before the night falls.” She leaves me be, and settles on watching me in silence.
The ax is unnerving, its balance completely off compared to what I’m used to. It feels like swinging a club while pretending it’s an ax. Then, half an hour before the night’s downpour, the notification I’ve been expecting finally appears.
[Ability - Initial Clubmanship acquired]
Huh?
I tilt my head. Not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess it’s fine.
“What happened?” Edna asks the moment I stop swinging.
“The Guide registered this ax as a club, and I got a club proficiency from it.” I chuckle, dismissing the notification, and check my stats.
[Name - Fyoor Enchanterson
Class - weapon master level 0
Health 19/19, Strength - 16, Agility - 20, Physique - 19, Wisdom - 28, Intellect - 32, Willpower - 26, Presence - 22, Charisma - 23, Composure - 25
Abilities - Literate, Advanced Calligraphy, Initial Arithmetics, Advanced Herbalism, Advanced Healing, Initial Focus, Initial Appraisal, Initial Woodland Sense, Initial Emergency Treatment, Initial Poison Tolerance, Master Rider, Uncanny Nose, Initial Staffmanship, Initial Spearmanship, Initial Swordsmanship, Initial Clubmanship
Attribute points remaining - 0
To level up, defeat a combatant with their favored weapon.
Statuses - none]
My chuckle becomes a cough. “My class changed.”