"Friend, look, you're a Combat Artisan, and I'm a Poet, wouldn't teaming up be a match made in heaven?"
This remark made Fang Hong forget to control the Clockwork Fairy for a moment, causing it to fly out and crash headfirst into the ground. He stiffly looked at the other party—is this how that phrase is used?
Moreover, he had never heard such a lofty opinion; Artisans and Poets are the two least compatible professions in any scenario, Constructs are unaffected by any mental effects, while a Poet's war songs and tunes are precisely about mental effects.
The Poet cleared his throat: "—Ahem, I mean seamless, okay, anyway, whatever the case... don't look at me like that, I'm absolutely not joking, and I'm no rookie. I am a Combat Poet, my voice can pierce the hearts of enemies and warm the souls of allies, the blade in my hand is as cold as it is unfeeling, I am both a tank and a guerrilla, in short, I can protect you fully, allowing you to calmly command your legions of troops."
