Translator: CinderTL
[Job successfully acquired. Current class: Blacksmith]
[Attribute bonuses gained: Strength +2, Agility +1]
Before the golden subtitles had fully faded, Roland felt a warm current slowly gathering in his chest, eventually surging outward.
This peculiar sensation was akin to the first sip of hot soup on a winter day—the warmth flowing through his veins, gradually permeating every limb and bone.
"Ah..."
Roland involuntarily exhaled deeply, a flicker of joy in his eyes.
Unlike the attribute boosts from his previous class acquisition, the two points of strength granted by the Blacksmith class were particularly noticeable, allowing him to genuinely feel the change in his body.
What surprised him even more was that this strength wasn't crudely imposed upon him; rather, it felt like reclaiming something that had always belonged to him, naturally integrating into every movement.
After a brief moment of disorientation, Roland instinctively clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking crisply.
Looking down, he noticed that the arm muscles, which previously required deliberate tensing to become visible, now displayed distinct definition even when his arm hung naturally at his side.
The stark contrast between his former and current strength compelled Roland to instinctively reach out and grip the iron candlestick at his bedside.
Creak
With a faint, grating sound, the metal that had previously required both hands to bend even slightly now yielded to the pressure of a single hand, deforming minutely.
"This is almost unbelievable," he murmured.
"If I faced an Aberrant Kobold now, I could probably hold my own for a few rounds with just my strength. But killing it would still be difficult."
Remembering the Bloodscale Kobold's full-body armor of hardened scales, Roland shook his head in resignation before turning his attention back to the Job Panel.
Detected: Host has mastered three forging techniques at maximum level. Initiating merger.
Moments later, the message quietly changed.
Merger complete.
Learned skill: Basic Forging Technique. Current level: Lv.1
As the words fully materialized, Roland felt an unprecedented clarity flood his mind.
Countless fragments of forging knowledge swirled through his consciousness like a celestial river, colliding deep within his mind to spark brilliant flashes of insight.
The previously fragmented and disorganized forging knowledge now flowed together seamlessly, like a hundred rivers converging into the sea.
Every essential forging technique, every nuance of material properties, found its most logical place within this newly integrated system.
Roland paused, momentarily stunned, then shook his head gently and reached for the iron sword lying beside him.
The instant his fingers brushed the hilt, a peculiar sensation surged through him.
It felt as if the iron sword had become an extension of his own body.
He could not only clearly perceive every grain and texture of the blade, but also detect the subtle imperfections left during its forging.
"Truly remarkable," Roland murmured, his voice filled with awe.
As he spoke, the subtitles before him shifted once more.
Acquired Trait: Furnace Heart
Furnace Heart: Greatly enhances fire affinity and significantly increases fire resistance.
"Furnace Heart..." Roland muttered, his brow furrowing in thought.
He quickly dressed and strode out of the room.
Moments later, he stood before the blacksmith shop's entrance.
The sky was just beginning to lighten, and the other apprentices were still asleep, leaving the blacksmith shop in complete silence.
Roland pushed open the door and swiftly tossed charcoal into the furnace before expertly working the bellows.
With each whoosh of the bellows, the flames gradually intensified, and the temperature inside the shop began to rise steadily.
Yet, unlike usual, the stifling heat that should have been suffocating felt strangely refreshing.
Sensing this anomaly, Roland tentatively extended his hand into the flames.
To his surprise, the scorching flames now radiated only a perfect warmth.
Even more astonishingly, as he touched the fire, he seemed to faintly perceive its emotional fluctuations.
Unfortunately, this perception was like looking through thick glass.
Though he could see the scene on the other side, he couldn't truly touch it, let alone communicate with it.
"Is this what they call fire affinity?"
A glint of excitement flashed in Roland's eyes, and his breathing quickened slightly.
In that instant, countless thoughts raced through his mind, but he ultimately shook his head gently.
"Better focus on the task at hand for now."
With these thoughts in mind, Roland casually picked up a metal ingot.
Perhaps due to the Basic Forging Technique, he instinctively sensed its weight and quality the moment it touched his hand.
As he tossed the ingot into the furnace, Roland mentally reviewed the blueprint's details once more.
His gaze locked onto the metal ingot, gradually turning crimson in the flames.
In that instant, an unprecedented intuition surged through him.
Previously, he had relied on the ingot's color changes to gauge its heating progress. But now, empowered by the Furnace Heart, he could precisely perceive the internal and external temperature distribution through the flames' behavior.
Before the ingot's color fully transformed, he swiftly clamped it with tongs and withdrew it.
When the ingot landed on the anvil, it was in the perfect state for forging.
Without hesitation, Roland swung his hammer.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The crisp hammering echoed through the blacksmith shop as heating and forging alternated.
After what seemed like an eternity, when the rough shape gradually matched the blueprint's design perfectly, he exhaled deeply and plunged the red-hot metal into cold water.
Hiss!
Amidst the billowing white steam, Roland retrieved the shaped blank and meticulously polished it in his palm.
Before long, a uniquely shaped dagger with a chillingly sharp edge lay before him.
"It's done!"
Before the excited shout could fade, a line of golden text slowly appeared:
A finished tool has been forged. Basic Forging Technique has gained one experience point.
"Hmm, it seems the experience gain mechanism for Basic Forging Technique is different from other forging skills."
"It's not based on actions performed, but rather on the number of finished products. In that case..."
Remembering the experience caps of 100 points for Level 1 and 200 points for Level 2, Roland suddenly felt a headache coming on. The joy of successfully forging the dagger had largely dissipated.
"And why didn't the blacksmith class resonate with the other three classes? Is it because the other three are basic classes, while the blacksmith class is an advanced class?"
As he pondered, Hawk's booming voice suddenly rang out from behind him.
"Kid, you're here early! You..."
Roland turned to see the burly old blacksmith striding toward him. Hawk's words trailed off as his gaze locked onto the dagger in Roland's hand.
"You... you forged this?"
Hawk snatched the dagger, his fingertips lightly tracing the blade's edge. The shock in his eyes deepened.
"Well, well, well..."
After a long moment, he let out a long breath. When he looked at Roland again, his expression was as complex as an overturned palette of paints—a mix of delight tinged with frustration.
"If I hadn't already made a rule..."
Hawk stroked the dagger, his voice low and gravelly.
"I truly wish I could take you on as my apprentice right now."
Roland's eyes lit up.
"Mr. Hawk, are you saying—"
"It means your skill level is already high enough!"
Catching sight of the boy's youthful face, Hawk snorted irritably, a sudden surge of frustration rising in his chest.
He had initially thought Roland merely possessed some talent.
But the dagger's flawless craftsmanship clearly demonstrated a level of mastery only attainable by a blacksmith who had honed their skills for decades.
Hawk couldn't help but recall his own early days.
He had mastered the basic techniques in three months and forged excellent finished tools within half a year.
Now, any blueprint he glanced at could be executed flawlessly from memory.
Yet this path had taken him forty long years to traverse.
And Roland?
In less than three months, he had already reached the threshold Hawk had spent half his life striving to cross.
At this rate, surpassing Hawk would likely be only a matter of time.
At this realization, Hawk suddenly let out a hearty laugh, the furnace fire casting dancing shadows across his calloused face.
Stroking his beard, he remembered the words of the old dwarf blacksmith Balrend, who had patted him on the shoulder years ago:
"The true heart of a craftsman lies not in hoarding skills, but in watching them spread like sparks from a fire."
In that instant, the frustration that had been festering in his chest gradually dissipated, vanishing without a trace.
"Well done, lad. Now, prepare yourself properly."
"Yes, Mr. Hawk."
Though Roland couldn't understand why Hawk's mood had shifted so abruptly, he keenly sensed the genuine kindness in the old blacksmith's eyes.
After bowing slightly to Hawk's retreating figure, Roland picked up his file and began meticulously carving the intricate lines onto the dagger.
Compared to the forging process, the carving technique wasn't particularly difficult, but it demanded extraordinary patience and a significant investment of time.
Eager to complete the transaction with Bronson as quickly as possible, Roland devoted nearly all his time to this task.
Aside from essential meals and sleep, his hands rarely stopped moving.
Even so, it still took nearly twenty days to finally complete the work, just before the assessment was due.
Huff
Roland exhaled deeply, rubbed his stiff neck, and glanced out the window at the dim, yellowish sky.
After stretching his stiff limbs, he carefully wrapped the gleaming dagger in coarse linen and set off toward the cabin he remembered.
Knock, knock, knock!
The crisp knocks echoed clearly through the silent manor.
Moments later, the wooden door creaked open slowly, spilling dim yellow light through the crack to reveal Bronson's tall but slightly hunched figure.
His gaunt face remained half-hidden in shadow, only his deep-set eyes glinting faintly in the darkness.
Before Roland could speak, Bronson's pupils suddenly contracted, and he demanded in a low voice, "What's that in your arms?"
Roland frowned, his right hand instinctively moving to his chest.
There, nestled quietly, lay the crimson crystal left behind after the Bloodscale Kobold had burned to ashes.
(End of the Chapter)
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