Being locked in a metal dome with a dubious ally with nebulous objectives should have been a source of discomfort, but surprisingly, it was not. A part of it was familiarity. Suspicious it might be, but our connection went a long way back, which was a relief.
Then, there was the way she looked at me. After Maria and Eleanor's departure, almost every single person I interacted with had treated me either like a savior or a dangerous snake. The first batch of students I had acquired seemed like they would be the exception, but that required time, and Harold was too focused on being a capable second-in-command to act like a peer.
Combined with the responsibilities I had heaped upon myself, the situation had turned rather suffocating.
Ironically, my sudden ability to read people better thanks to Wisdom only made the situation worse.
Rosie felt different. There was no deference in her stance, nor any hint of fear like one would feel approaching a caged tiger. She just had her usual mocking smirk, and casual stance. There was a certain tenseness in her posture, but to be fair, the situation deserved it.
Admittedly, I didn't know if it was what she truly felt, as Wisdom wasn't exactly mind-reading, or even pure emotion sensing — like I had first thought.
It was more like an improved sense of empathy, which had felt wondrous because I had been particularly lacking when it came to reading other's emotions.
"Good to see you too, Rosie," I said with a sigh, feeling relief more than anything, which earned a tentative, more honest smile from her.
She still paused for a second. "I expected more questions," she replied.
I chuckled. "Oh, I have many, but I think they can wait until the current disaster has been dealt with, so let's focus on the practical. Show me your weapon," I said.
She did, only for me to do a double-take. "What an affront to craftsmanship," I said even as I examined the weapon, which was a true affront to any kind of object. Even without touching, I could sense the presence of a dagger, but that was not all I could feel. It was also mixed with a sense of spear.
"Hey, it's the best weapon I had," she said even as she passed it to me.
I said nothing as I touched it, examining it. What I detected was even less surprising. "So, you managed to meet with Maria," I said once I used Observe, confirming that the dagger previously had been one of the spearheads I had passed to them to fund Maria's ascension.
I was annoyed not because someone had repurposed one of the spears , but because of the shoddy job they had done. Whoever had done it had no idea what they were doing, and they had just shaped the outer shape of the dagger rather than properly reforging it, which meant that not only was the presence of it confirmed as a horrible abomination of two different weapons, enough to impair her skill usage, but also the metal itself would impair any kind of skill usage.
There were a couple enchantments on it, but it was as if they were trying to hold a collapsing building with duct tape, essentially useless. I suspected that it was not a Blacksmith that had done it, but a mage casting a spell.
"I met with them, but it's complicated," Rosie replied. "Do you want to hear it now?"
"No, later," I replied as I examined the weapon another second, then, with a frown, melted it back to raw metal.
"Hey, who told you to destroy it —" she started.
"It's useless garbage," I said, which would have been true if it was any better. Ultimately, the dagger was made of anti-corrosive metal, which had no particular advantage against the enemy we were facing.
"It's the best weapon I ever used," she said while I crouched and touched the floor, which was made of anti-flame metal.
I rose back with a pair of daggers, shaped exactly like the previous one, but with a proper structure. When she grabbed it to swing, her eyes widened, shock radiating off her. "Alright, I might have been slightly hasty when I mentioned it," she said. "These are … slightly better."
"Good," I said. "They should hold for a while until I can fashion anything better," I said, enjoying her shock.
"Better?" she asked, shocked. "But, this dagger is already better than those spears you sent."
It was an accurate assessment, but the class upgrade had truly allowed me to modify my approach. I had to admit, I was happy to surprise her so much. It seemed that, despite the reports from her spies, she had underestimated my abilities. "Yes, better," I said, smiling at her shock. Unfortunately, the situation was too urgent to push the issue further. "All that remains is what you can do."
"With these, or even better weapons?" she asked.
"With these, I can hunt every single gargantuan lizard that approaches us, or hunt them one by one, easily," she said. "With better weapons…"
I paused, pondering which one was the better idea, but felt locked. I had too many things I didn't know.
"What are you thinking?" she asked.
"I'm wondering if it's better to force them to retreat, or draw them into a trap to deal with them all at once. But, if we draw them toward us and they have a nasty surprise waiting…"
"Are you open to advice?" she asked, hesitant, seemingly careful about pushing her authority the moment she arrived.
I appreciated her concern, and under different circumstances, I might have been more worried about setting a precedent. But, at this point, her assistance — unasked but appreciated — already proved critical many times that extending trust was not a chore. "Go ahead," I stated.
"It depends on what else you can produce. If what I see is the full extent of what you can create, then dealing with the enemy is the better idea. If not, we are better off forcing them to retreat."
"The reason?" I asked.
"The lack of true heavy hitters," she said. "Since they don't already have a hundred false-ascendants directly breaching the dungeon, it's clear that whatever that's happening here has not been reported, probably to hide their catastrophic failure. If we force them to retreat, they will attack soon, but only with what they can gather with their personal connections."
It took all my willpower to not pester her with hundreds of questions, as her careless statement raised far more questions, from the possibility of a direct dungeon attack — which told me that my bunker strategy wasn't as good as I had thought — to the statement regarding the false-ascended. "Sounds much better," I said. "What can we expect?"
"My best guess: a stronger team of elites, more gargantuan monsters, and some kind of ward to block your cannons," she said. I looked at her questioningly. "They are good against the unprepared, but you're not the first one that tried to adapt modern weaponry. You're lucky that you're in a mana-dead location, or one mediocre mage would have been enough to already solve it."
I shrugged. While I didn't agree with her assessment completely, it wasn't time to argue about the finer parts of the military strategy. "Fine. As long as you can bring the claws from the dungeon bosses, I can guarantee significantly better weapons."
She nodded. "Good, take down the barrier," she said as she put her helmet down.
Just as I was about to do exactly that, I paused. "Actually, can you hide your presence as you take down the gargantuan beasts?" I asked.
"I'm thinking of using some kind of fake ranged attack. I can blanket the area with a dangerous-looking mist, and if they think I can take them down from range…"
"During the next attack, they'll come prepared for the wrong thing," she said. "But, that would mean I won't be able to loot the claws."
"It's a risk we have to take," I responded. "I'm going to start targeting the boss monsters from the East, going clockwise," I said. She nodded, and I pulled down the metal curtain.
Soon, I lost track of her, but I was happy about it. It would mean the enemy would have trouble catching her as well. Since she had been capable enough to handle the threat, I decided that it would be put together.
Instead, I moved to one of the cannons. A blast of mana was all that was needed to forge a hundred new shells, carrying the concept of decay. They weren't particularly strong, nor did they need to be.
After all, it was merely an inefficient container, a prop to my little show of illusion, like I was a stage magician.
I kept the rate of fire low, which was mostly to give Rosie a chance to move between the targets, but putting a show for Thomas was not out of the question, especially since the cannons were out in the open, so I would be visible through spyglasses.
Each shell exploded into a sickly cloud, giving Rosie the cover she needed to deal with the task, while I made a show of panting hard. Occasionally, I even bit the inside of my cheek to spit out blood, like what I was doing was a great sacrifice that I was only doing because I was hopeless.
Thomas didn't disappoint, once again proving the value of an enemy we could predict. Once ten boss monsters had fallen, the rest of the horde pulled back almost twenty miles, well outside the range of the cannons — at least, as far as the current iteration was concerned.
Temporary as it might be…