Chapter 49

Morning at the Pier

It was cold on the pier in the morning. To warm up, I sprinted to the blacksmith’s house at full speed, using my new enhancement. Time to level it up—otherwise, I’ll die without even noticing.

The sounds of the forge told me I was close. The house stood right at the entrance to the mine, surrounded by towering trees and enclosed by a low fence. The first floor was made of stone masonry, the second of wooden beams. A large forge under a canopy completed the picture, with a massive furnace for smelting metal. Despite the early hour, the blacksmith was already at work.

"Hello," I said. The blacksmith nearly jumped at the sound of my voice. "I’m here for the nails, sent by Foreman Karis."

"How many times do I have to say it? I hung a bell for a reason—ring it when you arrive!" He gave me a closer look. "Ah, you’re not from around here."

"No. And I’d like to apprentice under you."

"Can you forge?" His sharp gaze scanned my frame.

"My blacksmith profession is well-developed, but I lack practical knowledge. I won’t be a burden. I’ll work for room and board, plus training. I’ll be on the island until the next ship arrives."

"Hm. Tempting offer. I do need an apprentice, especially one already skilled. What skills are you after?"

"Anything related to smithing, but I’m open to learning anything useful. I’ve heard your wife is a skilled healer—I’d be happy to learn from her too."

At that moment, my Imp Eyes ability alerted me to someone approaching from behind—completely silent, unnoticed by the blacksmith. I lowered my gaze, focusing on the presence behind me. The blacksmith’s expression shifted, signaling the person behind me. Then, she spoke:

"What makes you think I’d teach you?" She stood at my back—unseen, but I felt her.

"Why not? I can help you too. I’m a decent herbalist. I’ll trade herbs for lessons. A healer like you should find that useful."

The blacksmith set down his hammer and stepped out from under the canopy. "Clarissa, he’s here on assignment. Put the dagger away."

She emerged from behind me—a woman around twenty-five, wearing camouflage pants and a shirt, with a leaf-covered hat.

"I’m guessing the boy in the tree is your son?"

I’d noticed the kid when I approached. My heightened perception highlighted hidden objects I could detect.

"Garth, come down and greet our guest."

"Training?" I asked.

"Yes. Teaching the boy woodland stealth and hunting. How’d you spot him?"

"Perception’s leveled up."

"How high does it need to be to find a camouflaged kid in a tree?"

"Very." I grinned, smug as a cat that got the cream. Finally, someone acknowledged my progress.

"Ugh, fine," the woman relented. "I’ll teach you. Not that you’ll learn much—these are class skills. I’m Clarissa, this is my husband Claude, and that’s our son Garth."

Garth was twice my age, judging by his physique—well-developed muscles, balanced growth.

"How’d you find me?" he asked.

"You moved."

"So?"

"Perception picks up anomalies. A tree moving on its own isn’t normal."

The boy looked stunned.

"This’ll be fun," the blacksmith ruffled Garth’s hair. "I’ll take you on. But don’t expect to learn much—core class skills are locked to outsiders."

"I’ll take what I can get. By the way, can you mine ore here?"

"Only copper and tin. Nothing else."

"Worth a shot."

I grabbed the nails and dashed back to the shipyard, aiming to return by noon. A well-worn path led from the blacksmith’s house to the village—no beasts, but herbs everywhere. My inner herbalist groaned at every plant I passed. I promised myself I’d gather them on the way back. Meanwhile, my inner carpenter cackled, declaring every tree on the island would fuel his mad experiments. I could almost hear him sharpening his axe. Funny how my mind splits like this.

Back at the Shipyard

It was work hours, and Karis’s crew was assembling another fishing schooner. I found him near it.

"Karis, brought the nails." The sly foreman had "forgotten" to mention the 200 kilograms of nails. Without my strength stat, I’d never have carried them.

"Thanks." He chewed his lip. "If you’d lied about your strength, you wouldn’t have made it. Guess the rest of what you said checks out too."

Karis hands you: Skill Book – "Wood Reinforcement Methods for Craftsmen"

Of course, I accepted it—a crafting-class skill book for carpentry’s primary class and wood reinforcement as a secondary path.

"Seems you’re leveling skills just for the sake of it. Dunno if you’ll manage non-class abilities, but here’s your shot. Good luck!"

He walked off toward the shipyard as I watched. A complete stranger had decided to help me. Do I have good karma or something?

I’d gotten my chance. I had the book. And I’d do everything to master these skills. Even something as small as archery had proven invaluable in Hell. Now, I had a shot at a secondary class skill.

Time to act. I had food—now I needed herbs and lumber.

Herbalist Grind

The whole way back to the blacksmith’s, I gathered plants. I didn’t recognize half of them. My Herbalism skill highlighted useful ones, while my perception mapped everything in a wide radius. By evening, I reached the forge at 90% encumbrance—half a ton of herbs. Insane.

In Chrysalis, every path has core class skills. Healers have Healing, craftsmen have Crafting, warriors have Armor Mastery, archers have Rapid Fire and Precision Shot. Anyone can use blades, but warriors get bonus damage. Stat growth heavily influences output—an archer will never out-melee a warrior of the same level. That’s why I’d never be a proper healer or buffer. I saw myself as an attack mage.

Poison Brewing

The next day, I experimented with herbs, brewing poisons. My crude methods made Clarissa laugh. When I started drinking the poisons, her jaw dropped.

"You’re an idiot! That’s poison!"

"I know."

"You’re poisoning yourself?"

"Yes. Leveling poison resistance."

"Why?"

"So no one can kill me with it."

After that, she actually taught me. Her methods were refined—rotors, flasks, distillation setups. My cauldron-based alchemy was stone-age by comparison. True masters could combine multiple effects from the same ingredients. No wonder in-game alchemists were respected. I’d only manage that if I became a crafter—class skills enabled effect stacking.

Three days later:

Skill Learned: Poison Crafting

Poison Crafting +1

Effectiveness +1%

Two more days, and I capped it at 25. The fourth-order limiter was active again—no further progress until class selection and citizenship.

My advantage over city spawns? A whole island of herbs and a leveled Herbalism skill. No clan territory disputes. Without Clarissa’s help, I’d never have learned this.

Ointment Crafting

She also agreed to teach me ointments. The possibilities! Depending on preparation, they could absorb instantly or linger. Unlike potions, their effects were long-lasting—and not just healing. Poisoned ointments could coat doorknobs or sword hilts. Kill without a trace.

A week of self-experimentation later:

Skill Learned: Ointment Crafting

Ointment Crafting +1

Effectiveness +1%

Who else would waste three days grinding a non-class skill with near-zero odds? Probably combat mains, not crafters.

I only succeeded because I knew ingredient effects from Cooking.

Poison Resistance +0.01%

Poison Damage Ignored: 224/sec

Two more days, and I capped ointments at 25. Only made them for myself, as poison bases. I copied Clarissa’s recipe book by hand—no blood magic shortcuts. Better she didn’t know I could use my own blood as a base.

Constant Healing

I’d gotten so used to Healing that I cast it constantly, even unharmed. A sliver of my mind always kept my HP topped off. It was calming—less mental strain.

In-game, I was unwinding from real-world stress. Eighteen hours a day in the capsule, the rest for sleep and food. Maybe I should read up on medicine. Something’s off.