Translator: CinderTL
"Sean, I remember you mentioning before that your uncle Peyton is a mercenary?"
"Yeah, that's right," Sean replied, tossing aside the hammer and looking up from the metal ingot that had cracked at the edge on the anvil.
"He used to operate near the Black Cedar Forest with a group, hunting demonic beasts for money. They lived a pretty good life."
Hunting demonic beasts?
Roland's eyes lit up at the mention of those words.
According to his information, demonic beast activity within the Golden Valley Kingdom had been escalating in recent years.
With insufficient military forces, local lords had been forced to conscript civilians for extermination campaigns.
The promise of generous rewards had attracted numerous adventurers and mercenaries, but only a handful ever returned alive to claim their bounty.
The fact that Sean's uncle could make a living hunting demonic beasts spoke volumes about his combat prowess.
With renewed hope, Roland turned to his best friend.
"Did you ever learn any combat skills from your uncle?"
"Me?" Sean shook his head with a wry smile. "I wish I had, but my father never approved of Uncle Peyton's lifestyle. He left home when I was just a kid."
"If not for the recent troubles, I might never have met my uncle in my lifetime."
As if recalling the endless arguments at home, the tall young man unconsciously hunched his shoulders.
"I see," Roland said, his voice tinged with disappointment.
Just as Roland was about to give up hope, Sean spoke again.
"What's up, buddy? You want to learn how to use weapons?"
"Yeah," Roland nodded slightly.
"I've heard that demonic beasts have been sighted not only in the Black Cedar Forest but also in the neighboring Dawn Territory. That's why I want to learn some self-defense skills, so I won't be helpless if I encounter danger."
"Hmm," Sean grunted in agreement, nodding.
"You're right, buddy. Here's an idea: next month is the Merciful Father of Heaven's birthday celebration. In previous years, Lord Baron has always invited neighboring nobles for a grand banquet, and he definitely won't allow commoners like us to stay at the manor during that time."
"Why don't you come stay at my place for a few days? We can ask Uncle Peyton to teach us some combat techniques!"
"Really? Thank you so much, Sean!"
Hearing this, Roland excitedly punched Sean's chest, but quickly calmed down.
Though they had never met, he had some understanding of the nature of mercenaries and adventurers who constantly walked the line between life and death.
These individuals always prioritized profit, never acting without personal gain.
Peyton might guide his own nephew, Sean, but he might not extend the same courtesy to an outsider like Roland, who had no blood relation.
Yet learning new skills and improving his strength was urgent. He couldn't afford to wait until Sean had mastered his training before receiving instruction.
Just in case, I should think of ways to build rapport.
With this thought, Roland placed the metal ingot from the anvil back into the furnace for reforging while asking, "By the way, Sean, what does your uncle like?"
"Hmm..."
Though unsure why Roland was asking, Sean pondered for a moment before replying, "Uncle Peyton probably likes weapons. He recently asked my father for money to buy new ones, but you know how expensive a decent iron sword can be. That's why they've been arguing so much lately."
"Weapons? That's easy enough."
Remembering his newly acquired blacksmith apprentice class, Roland felt a surge of confidence.
While his forging skills still fell short of a true blacksmith's, the birthday celebration was still some time away.
With the "Humble Apprentice" trait boosting his progress, he figured he could grind his forging skills hard over the next few days and craft a decent weapon by then.
With this in mind, Roland patted the dozen or so copper coins remaining in his pocket.
"This should be enough to buy a small metal ingot for a dagger. Even if Uncle Peyton doesn't want it, I can sell it to earn money and find other ways to learn combat skills."
"The only question is whether Mr. Hawk will let me use the forging tools privately and take the finished weapon out of the manor."
"I'll test the waters with Mr. Hawk in a few days."
Having made up his mind, Roland clamped the fired metal ingot back onto the anvil and resumed explaining forging techniques.
Under his patient guidance, Sean finally managed to forge a barely passable rough blade by sunset.
Clang!
As the bell rang, Sean eagerly pulled Roland toward the mess hall to collect their meals.
Dinner was slightly more substantial than lunch, featuring a palm-sized fish and a small bowl of fish soup.
However, due to the limited cooking techniques, the fish had a slightly fishy odor, and the soup was bland and utterly lacking in flavor.
Yet Roland showed no disdain.
Given his current circumstances, a full meal was a blessing, especially a free one.
Just as he was breaking the black bread and fish into the soup, preparing to enjoy it like mutton stew, heavy footsteps echoed nearby.
Looking up, he saw Marco approaching slowly, surrounded by several attendants.
Seeing this, Sean quickly stuffed the last piece of black bread into his mouth, then gripped his wooden tray behind his back and stepped in front of Roland protectively.
"Don't be so tense," Marco said with a faint smile, his gaze sweeping past the tall Sean to focus on Roland. "You're Roland, right? I imagine you know who I am?"
"Of course," Roland replied, standing up and patting the tense Sean on the shoulder. He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Mr. Marco? I'm not sure why you're looking for me."
Hearing the respectful tone in Roland's voice, Marco nodded in satisfaction.
"I don't like to waste words," he said slowly, raising one finger. "You voluntarily leave the estate and forfeit the assessment in three months. In return, I'll pay you one gold coin. What do you say?"
"One gold coin!" Sean exclaimed before Roland could even respond.
In the Golden Valley Kingdom, a family of three could live comfortably for a year on just three to five silver coins. With an exchange rate of one gold coin to one hundred silver coins, a single gold coin could sustain an ordinary family for decades!
Sean's father's butchering job was already considered a very respectable income among commoners. Yet even so, he had never seen or touched a real gold coin.
Seeing Sean's shock, Marco's smile deepened, a hint of contempt flickering in his eyes.
But the next moment, his smile froze.
Unlike Sean's outburst, Roland merely frowned slightly, his expression remaining calm, and slowly shook his head.
"One gold coin?"
"I must decline, Mr. Marco."
(End of the Chapter)
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