Translator: CinderTL
"That's a substantial sum. I advise you not to be too greedy."
Marco's expression gradually darkened, his gaze sharpening like a blade as he scrutinized the young man before him.
Disheveled black hair, a gaunt frame, and a worn-out tunic sewn from coarse hemp—the only noteworthy features were his refined face and those bright, piercing eyes.
By all appearances, he seemed utterly incapable of maintaining composure in the face of such immense wealth.
Could the intelligence I gathered be flawed? Is this fellow not just a penniless peasant, orphaned and desperate?
As Marco pondered, Roland spoke calmly.
"Mr. Marco, I'm not trying to haggle."
"I simply have a deep passion for forging tools. That's all."
"Hmph!"
Seeing the unwavering resolve in Roland's eyes, Marco swallowed the threat that had risen to his lips. He merely snorted coldly through his nose before turning and stalking away.
"Father in Heaven..."
Only after Marco's figure had vanished did Sean suddenly gasp for air like a drowning man, his voice trembling as he said, "Roland, that was a gold coin! You just..."
"What's a gold coin anyway?" Roland lazily rolled his eyes, plopped down on the creaking wooden stool, and stuffed a piece of fish soup-soaked black bread into his mouth, muttering indistinctly, "Someone like Marco would never keep his word anyway."
"That... that's true."
"But it was still a gold coin... Never mind."
Remembering Marco's notorious reputation, Sean desperately suppressed his inner greed and fell silent. He slumped onto the wooden stool, staring blankly into space.
Seeing his dazed expression, Roland sighed softly.
He held no particular resentment toward Sean's earlier outburst. After all, it was a gold coin! Such a massive sum of wealth would tempt anyone. Even Roland himself had felt a flicker of temptation when he first heard the price.
But beyond that, Roland was thinking about something more.
In this world where nobility reigned supreme and bloodline determined everything, the lives of commoners were as worthless as weeds.
Apart from the still-distant path to transcendence, becoming a blacksmith apprentice through the assessment was Roland's only tangible route to advancement.
Moreover, with the assistance of his profession panel, becoming a skilled blacksmith was merely a matter of time.
Once he achieved that, even nobles and transcendent professionals would likely treat him with respect.
Such status couldn't be bought with a mere gold coin!
As Roland pondered, Sean, who had recovered his composure, suddenly frowned and said, "Mate, I have a feeling that Marco won't let this go!"
"We'll be safe in the manor, but we'll have to leave on the day of the festival. Why don't you ask Mr. Hawk to plead with the Lord Baron?"
Sean had already forgotten the earlier incident, now solely concerned for Roland's safety.
Having grown up in the streets, Sean wasn't as naive as he appeared. He was well aware of the dirty tricks and underhanded tactics that lurked beneath the surface.
"You're giving Mr. Hawk too much credit," Roland said, draining the fish soup from his wooden bowl and savoring the last drop.
"Even though Lord Baron respects Mr. Hawk, he's still just a commoner. Didn't you hear? Even the servants who stayed behind had to go through multiple rounds of screening."
"Besides, I can't stay cooped up in the manor forever just because of Marco, can I?"
"That's true, but..."
Sean clapped Roland on the shoulder with firm conviction. "I mean it! No matter what happens, I'll protect you! We're brothers who grew up together, after all!"
Seeing Sean's earnest gaze, Roland chuckled lightly, teasing, "Then it's settled. Next time we sneak into Old Man Frank's orchard, I'll keep watch."
"No way! I can't even climb that tall tree!"
Laughing and joking, the two returned to their dormitory.
Lying on the lumpy bed, Roland took a deep breath, suppressing the anxiety churning within him.
Was he afraid of Marco's likely retaliation?
Of course he was.
After all, he had only awakened a blacksmith apprentice class, which offered no combat abilities whatsoever.
But what good would fear do?
When the enemy comes, meet them head-on. When the waters rise, build a dam.
He refused to let fear paralyze him.
"Well, I've already died once anyway," Roland muttered, drifting off to sleep amidst the rhythmic snoring around him.
The following days passed peacefully. Marco made no further appearances to provoke him, and Roland continued honing his forging skills with his usual patience.
The only difference was that he no longer had to shuttle between furnaces doing odd jobs. Instead, he worked directly under Hawk's supervision, focusing intently on hammering and shaping metal at the ringing anvil.
"Stay focused! Keep the rhythm!"
"More power! Yes, exactly like that!"
Watching the sweat-drenched youth before him, Hawk couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction.
Clang!
With the final hammer strike, Roland gently shook his aching arm and looked up eagerly.
"Mr. Hawk, how was that?"
"Much improved from before. But... at this level, you still won't pass the upcoming assessment. You need to work twice as hard, understand?"
"No problem, Mr. Hawk!"
"Good lad!"
Seeing that Roland showed no sign of discouragement despite his words, Hawk burst into hearty laughter, his rough hand clapping heavily on the boy's shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance.
Sensing the old blacksmith's good mood, Roland took a deep breath and seized the opportunity to slowly voice the words he had carefully rehearsed.
"Mr. Hawk, I... um... a friend of mine is about to have a birthday, and I was hoping to borrow the tools in the blacksmith shop to forge a weapon as a gift. Of course,"
Afraid Hawk might misunderstand, Roland quickly scratched his head and added,
"I'll purchase the metal ingots with my own money."
Watching the hesitant young man, Hawk's lips curled into a slight smile.
If anyone else had made this request, he would have likely roared in anger. But this boy...
Obedient, hardworking, and exceptionally talented.
What teacher wouldn't cherish such a disciple?
With this thought, Hawk leaned in slightly and whispered,
"Kid, you've forged tools before. You should know there's bound to be some waste in the process."
"Mr. Hawk, are you saying—"
Roland's eyes lit up.
"Just this once. Don't make a habit of it, understand?"
"Yes! Thank you, Mr. Hawk!"
"Alright, then."
Hawk straightened up and waved dismissively.
"If the guards at the gate ask, just mention my name."
"I have other matters to attend to. If you need to practice, take the metal ingots yourself. No need to ask me again."
With that, he turned and left.
The surrounding youths looked at Roland with envy. Normally, they only received a metal ingot when practicing their forging techniques. Yet Roland could take them at will!
"This is so unfair!"
"Yeah, even Marco doesn't get this kind of treatment."
Roland ignored the whispers, calmly took a metal ingot, and began hammering while pondering.
"Since Mr. Hawk has granted me free access to metal ingots, there's no need to forge daggers anymore."
"Besides the gift for Sean's uncle, I can also craft some simple self-defense tools for myself."
"Forget it, I'll just grind my Forging Skill to max level first!"
Watching the Forging Skill experience points steadily climb on his interface, Roland's fatigue seemed to vanish, replaced by renewed vigor.
After what felt like an eternity, the monotonous interface finally changed with a crisp, ringing sound.
Forging Skill has reached maximum level.
(End of the Chapter)
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