In the end, it seemed that Terry would have to focus on quantity over quality for now… he returned to the dungeon as soon as Rebecca's turn finished, and then he asked her to focus on recruiting people that could be trained to do blacksmithing.
"I suppose we seriously need them, but you think that our weapons aren't enough already?" Rebecca asked. "No one got hurt so far outside the portal."
"I am thinking far ahead into the future; the preparations need to be started now," Terry explained. "Do a background check to find the right people for the job."
Rebecca nodded and then left the area with the others. Terry noticed that some of his subordinates looked like they had something to say, but they didn't say anything and just left. Terry wasn't getting closer to any of them, and he was too busy for that; he might have to consider improving his interactions with them for the sake of the guild.
In any case, even though he assumed his job when the sun was setting, Terry decided to deal with the monsters that would show up by using his Icicle Bow alone. He wanted to see at which level that weapon would stop growing, considering its rank, after all. If his guess was right, it would be at level forty.
Icicle Longbow - Lv 24(188/250) (Uncommon)
Attack Power: 125
Movement Speed Debuff: 24%
Charges: 40/40
Durability: 48/48
(Critical Charge: when dealing critical damage on the target, you recover one charge automatically.)
(Cold of War: When hitting the same opponent twice with the arrows of this bow, you put them under the 'frostbite' status effect and make them lose five points of health per second for ten seconds.)
(Sniper: doubles the range of the arrows fired by this bow.)
(Triple Shot: consumes three charges to fire three arrows at the same time at the target, causing the usual damage plus twenty percent per arrow.)
Unfortunately for him, even after hunting throughout the night, Terry didn't make the bow get another skill. The speed of the monsters coming slowed down for some reason, and he could only assume that the monsters were up to no good. Just to be sure, he built a tent nearby the dungeon and went to sleep there when the next group came to take his post.
When Terry woke up at noon, Rebecca informed him that she actually found ten people that could start working immediately. She also used the guild funds and a warehouse for them to start working already. She sure was quick on her uptake. She also brought all the things that they would need.
"I am going to the portal now; the guys are already there waiting for your instructions," Rebecca explained. "I think I found the right people for the job, but you should see them in action, just in case."
Terry nodded, and then he headed to the building in front of the branch, where he found the group. Their apprehensive yet determined expressions caught his attention, hinting at a mixture of anxiety and eagerness to prove themselves. It was evident that they yearned for an opportunity to contribute their craftsmanship to Terry's guild.
Though visibly nervous, their eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope as they witnessed Terry's approach. Each member of the group displayed a unique set of skills, evident from the scars and calloused hands that bore witness to their tireless efforts. It was clear that their commitment to the art of blacksmithing had persisted through the chaos and hardships of the post-apocalyptic era.
"There is nothing to say; show me what you all can do by working together," Terry said. "Try to make some poles using the greysteel that we have here."
As Terry revealed the rare metal he had acquired during his work, a sense of awe and trepidation washed over the group of blacksmiths who had joined his cause. The metal gleamed with an otherworldly hue. It was a material unlike any they had encountered before, its properties shrouded in mystery and potential.
The blacksmiths' hands trembled slightly as they reached out to touch the rare metal. They marveled at its weight, finding it both intimidating and thrilling. It was clear that they recognized the significance of this unique material and the immense responsibility that came with working with it.
In any case, they soon began to work since they felt Terry's gaze. United by a common purpose and driven by their shared determination, the group of blacksmiths joined forces to harness the power of the rare metal in their possession. They embarked on the intricate task of creating the best prototype of a pole, knowing that its effectiveness could shape the outcome of their new job.
With focused minds and steady hands, the blacksmiths gathered around the workbench, their eyes fixed on the rare metal. They meticulously planned each step, drawing upon their collective knowledge and experience to unlock the full potential of this extraordinary material.
As the first sparks flew and the hammer struck against the anvil, a harmonious symphony of clanging and pounding filled the workshop. Each blacksmith expertly maneuvered their tools, employing age-old techniques infused with their own personal flair. They worked in perfect synchrony, a well-oiled machine fueled by a shared passion for their craft.
Throughout the process, their nervousness gave way to a remarkable synergy that enveloped the workshop. They communicated with a silent understanding, effortlessly exchanging tools and seamlessly transitioning between tasks. Their movements became fluid and purposeful, guided by an unspoken unity that transcended words.
The rare metal responded to their skilled touch, yielding and taking shape as their vision came to life. Its transformative nature astonished even the most experienced blacksmiths in the group, revealing new dimensions and possibilities they had never encountered before.
The blacksmiths' confidence grew with each passing moment, their initial nervousness replaced by a deep-seated belief in their abilities. Their dedication to excellence compelled them to pour their hearts and souls into every strike of the hammer, every intricate detail they meticulously sculpted.