Translator: CinderTL
"Finally maxed out."
After letting out a long sigh, Roland muttered to himself and opened his Job Panel.
Name: Roland
Race: Human
Age: 16
Class: Blacksmith Apprentice
Strength: 2.1
Agility: 1.4
Spirit: 1.2
Skills: Lv.Max Ore Smelting, Lv.Max Bellows Pumping, Lv.Max Forging
"Strength and Agility both increased by 0.1? It seems daily activities can also raise stats, but the progress is incredibly slow."
After glancing at the numbers behind his stats, Roland focused his attention on the skill list.
"Why didn't the class advancement prompt trigger after maxing out the Forging skill?"
Recalling his days honing his craft in the blacksmith shop, Roland slowly furrowed his brow.
"The tempering and quenching processes are already included in the Ore Smelting and Forging skills. Besides that, I don't think I've missed any other skills that could trigger the advancement."
"Could it be that triggering the class advancement prompt requires more than just mastering skills? Perhaps there are other unknown steps involved? Ah, well..."
After much thought, Roland temporarily abandoned the idea, no longer dwelling on it.
"The Heavenly Father's birthday celebration is in half a month. I should focus on forging weapons."
With this thought, he picked up a slightly heavier metal ingot and walked to the anvil in a secluded corner.
He glanced around, making sure no one was watching, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and mentally reviewed the entire forging process.
After a moment, confirming he hadn't missed any steps, he began.
Pumping the bellows, ore smelting, forging, quenching, tempering, grinding...
These techniques had become second nature through days of practice.
And with the boost from the [Humble Apprentice] trait, the vast experience he'd accumulated materialized, making Roland's weapon forging process remarkably smooth.
Five days later, Roland looked at the brand-new iron sword in his hand, a tired smile on his face.
"It usually takes ordinary people years to master the skills and forge a finished weapon on their own."
"But with the Job Panel's assistance, I managed to forge a finished weapon in just a few months! It's just..."
Roland swung the iron sword in his hand, carefully examining it. His initial joy gradually faded.
"The quality of this iron sword is far from excellent. Compared to Mr. Hawk's standards, it's barely passable."
"With this level of forging skill, I doubt I can guarantee a perfect score on the assessment."
"But it seems I have no room for improvement left besides continuing to forge finished products and gain experience."
After spending time together, Roland had come to understand Hawk's personality.
Stubborn and opinionated.
Superficially, the old blacksmith treated him kindly, and their relationship seemed harmonious.
But Roland knew that if he failed to meet the standards during the assessment, Hawk wouldn't hesitate to expel him from the manor.
After all, the master blacksmith already had several skilled apprentices under his tutelage. One more or one less wouldn't make much difference.
As Roland pondered this, a golden subtitle suddenly flashed across his vision:
[System Detected: Host has successfully forged an iron sword of acceptable quality. Eligible to apply for the high-tier class: Blacksmith.]
[Requirements: Strength 4, Agility 2, all three forging-related skills at maximum level, forge 1/10 weapons of acceptable quality.]
[Host does not meet the requirements for job advancement.]
"I actually triggered the job advancement prompt!"
Roland's heart surged with excitement as he read the words before him. But when he saw the requirements, his brow slowly furrowed.
"Forging ten weapons is manageable, but four points of strength and two points of agility? That's too far off from my current stats."
"Just relying on daily activities to improve would take months. If I want to boost my stats quickly, I'll have to rely on job advancement."
"But... even though I don't know what special abilities I'll gain from becoming a blacksmith, it's bound to be related to forging equipment. If I succeed, I'm sure I can secure a spot in the assessment two months from now!"
With this thought, Roland's initial disappointment quickly vanished. After a brief rest, he retrieved another metal ingot.
With over half a month left until the Heavenly Father's birthday celebration, Roland didn't want to waste any time.
Since Hawk had given him free access to the metal ingots, he wouldn't hesitate to use them.
Besides, these ores had been purchased by Baron Forslin's men using noble funds. He wouldn't feel the slightest pang of guilt spending a noble's money.
"This will also fulfill the weapon forging requirement for becoming a blacksmith."
With that thought, Roland swung his iron hammer again.
Time flew by like a white colt passing through a crack in a wall. Before the birthday celebration arrived, the apprentices were already being driven out of the manor.
"Stop! What are you carrying in your arms?"
"Mr. Hawk ordered it."
Roland handled the guards at the manor gate, watching their expressions shift from stern to respectful. He was once again reminded of the high value placed on blacksmiths in this era.
But Sean, standing beside him, paid no attention to their exchange.
The moment the guard nodded to let them pass, Sean grabbed Roland's arm and rushed out the gate in a flurry.
"Did you hear what Mr. Hawk just said?" Sean exclaimed, waving his arms dramatically. "We have to take some damn literacy test when we come back! If we fail, we have to start all over!"
He let out a comical sigh of relief. "Good thing I've already decided to join the army, buddy. You know, I've always hated those convoluted letters since I was a kid!"
Roland stumbled as Sean pulled him forward.
"But if you really become an apprentice, you'll need to read blueprints, sign contracts, and keep accounts—all of which require literacy."
Sean's voice trailed off as he spoke.
In his childhood, the original Roland had managed to learn basic reading, writing, and spoken language at a Parish School funded by the Church.
But this rudimentary literacy was clearly insufficient.
Roland couldn't think of a solution.
In the Golden Valley Kingdom, commoners who wanted to learn to read and write had two options: either pay a hefty sum to hire a private tutor or join the Church as a believer and study prayers with a priest.
Neither path was feasible for him at the moment.
"And another thing..."
Sean, oblivious to his friend's worries, took the large bundle from Roland's hands and continued chattering.
"Lord Baron's annual banquet used to last at least seven days. Why is it only three this year? It's cut our vacation short!"
"He's probably run out of money," Roland replied glumly, his spirits dampened.
Baron Forslin's reputation for lavish spending and reckless extravagance was well-known throughout Blackwater Territory.
Roland replied glumly, his mood heavy.
Baron Forslin's notorious penchant for extravagance and reckless spending was common knowledge throughout the Blackwater Territory.
The only thing that could possibly shorten the noble lord's lavish banquets was a financial crisis.
"It seems the demonic beast infestation in the Black Cedar Forest is even worse than we thought," Roland muttered, shaking his head to clear his mind of irrelevant thoughts. He continued along a secluded, tree-lined path.
As he emerged from the final patch of shadow, the scene before him opened up dramatically.
This was the first time since his transmigration that Roland had stepped outside the noble estate.
With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, he began to carefully observe the village before him.
Perhaps because the birthday celebration was approaching, the entire village was unusually bustling.
Villagers had tied brightly dyed linen strips beneath the oak eaves of their homes, which fluttered in the wind like magical waterfalls from a folk novel.
Three bards in feathered hats crowded beneath the tavern sign, tuning their lutes. The sound of the strings mingled with the greasy aroma of roasting goose wafting through the streets.
In the church square, a traveling theater troupe had set up a colorful tent adorned with tinkling bells. A performer wearing a raven feather mask was conjuring silver sparks from his fingertips, eliciting gasps of delight from flower-crowned maidens.
"It's quite lively," Roland murmured, his gaze sweeping across the bustling, laughter-filled streets as he carefully identified the surrounding buildings.
"That's a tavern, next to it is an inn, and the one near the river must be the mill."
His gaze drifted past the slowly turning windmill atop the mill, then extended further to a sprawling, bustling shop filled with the clamor of customers.
"That must be Marco's father's blacksmith shop. Business is booming!"
Memories of the original Roland flooded back in the familiar surroundings, giving Roland a sense of being transported to another world.
"Hey, buddy!"
Just then, Sean's booming voice cut through his reverie.
Turning around, Roland saw his burly best friend holding up a heavily wrapped bundle encased in thick burlap. Sean asked gruffly, "What exactly is this? It's pretty heavy!"
"I'll show you when we get to your place," Roland replied.
The bundle contained the meticulously crafted tools Roland had made himself.
To avoid prying eyes, he always hid alone in the most secluded corner of the blacksmith shop, carefully crafting his creations.
Not even Sean, his closest friend, knew a thing about it.
Though Hawk had hinted that he could use the metal ingots, Roland knew the fewer people who knew, the better. He didn't want a moment of carelessness to bring unnecessary trouble.
Sean didn't seem to mind Roland's secrecy, only muttering a few grumbles under his breath.
After struggling through the crowded streets, the two men arrived at a house.
Just as they were about to push open the door, a heated argument erupted from within.
"Peyton, I swear this is the last time! Just lend me a little more money, and then—"
"Don't even dream of it, Sam! Have you forgotten Reuben's fate? That kind of thing isn't for people like us to meddle with! Besides, all you have is a fragment!"
"Damn it! Stop bringing up that idiot Reuben, Peyton! I'm not like him!"
"What's the difference? You're both—"
(End of the Chapter)
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