“You leveled in Armor Smith again.” I mentioned to Garnet as she handed me the newest plate mail she had just forged.

“I feel it… the power inside! I’ll make a better plate mail in the next run!” Garnet declared while her hands tightened on the hammer.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how leveling works.”

Gaining a level didn’t suddenly make you better at everything. I mean, I guess it did raise status, but it wasn’t like you’d suddenly make a better piece of armor just because you had more strength or agility. That required experience, which I suppose is exactly what she was gaining that helped her level. Now that she was my slave, and I had my Slave Master job equipped, she was gaining experience far quicker than she normally did.

I usually didn’t pay too close attention to every level. I had read in some Adventuring guides that focusing too much on levels would lead to failure. The reason was pretty simple. An Adventurer focused on levels might end up biting off more than they could chew. For example, they might reach level 20, and read that this floor was good for level twenties, and then push themselves to that level. In reality, that floor might have been good for level twenties with Fire Control, but nearly suicidal for other Adventurers.

There are many other examples that are given as well. When people focused on levels as an indicator of strength, they constantly misunderstood their abilities, and were more likely to put themselves in dangerous situations. It also ran the risk of some becoming snobby or trying to rank themselves based on levels. This sort of classism was frowned upon everywhere in this world. Supposedly, there was even a play called “Juggar the Fool” which depicted a man going around flexing his levels only to fail embarrassingly every time.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Thus, when it came to my party, the girls rarely wondered what their levels were, and instead asked the question, how strong were they? Saying that, as someone who had easy access to my levels without the need for a magical item or a Priest, I couldn’t help but look and try to keep track of my abilities. Well, when it came to myself, the flashing text in my vision wasn’t exactly something that I could ignore.

As for the others in my formation, they just didn’t ever ask. Garnet seemed to be a notable exception. She seemed to relish in her levels and greatly enjoy every level up. Thus, I had gotten used to announcing her leveling, which over the last two weeks of nonstop blacksmithing, had grown quite well.

I placed the plate mail to the side, and a former bandit who was now conscripted into my army grabbed it and took it to find a soldier who needed it. Compared to the cheap pieces of scrap metal he once wore before, he was now in a full chainmail outfit with a particularly fine bow on his back. Besides what Garnet made, Xin had also relinquished all of her weapons and was still scouring the dungeon to find whatever magic items and weapons we could use to better equip our army.

“It’s good that you leveled.” I turned back to Garnet as she pulled out some metal to start her next piece. “I will be going soon.”

“What?” Garnet let out a cry, panic in her eyes. “N-no! I need my assistant!”

“I’m your Master though…” I laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of my head.

“The quality of my work goes down whenever you leave!”

“Just work on the less important things, like horse armor or something.”

“I need you!” She cried, grabbing my arm and trying to look up at me with begging eyes.

“You’ll be fine. Besides, getting practice on your own will only make the pieces when you have my assistance, even better!”

This brightened her mood slightly, as it seemed she had a desire to one day make the perfect piece of armor.

“Where will you be going, anyway?” She then asked, still just a bit pouty.

“I’ll be doubling our army today. It’s time the skeletons join the fray.”