Translator: CinderTL
After an unknown amount of time, as the assessment deadline approached, the other apprentice blacksmiths gradually completed their work.
Rows of similar-looking two-handed swords lay neatly arranged on the anvils before each apprentice, their blades gleaming with a chilling light under the sunlight.
"Cough, cough, cough..."
Hawk cleared his throat and stepped forward, beginning to inspect the two-handed swords forged by the apprentices one by one.
But before long, the old blacksmith's brow furrowed deeper and deeper, his face visibly reddening.
Perhaps mindful of Baron Forslin's presence, he refrained from his usual angry outbursts, instead announcing the results in a low, gravelly voice.
"The ore smelting temperature was too high. Failed."
"The forging force was insufficient. Failed."
"This sword doesn't match the blueprint requirements. Failed!"
Hawk's breathing grew heavier, his footsteps growing increasingly heavy.
Soon, he stood before Marco.
The blacksmith's son hadn't been intimidated by Roland's earlier fluid forging technique. Instead, he stood tall, his gaze steady as he met Hawk's scrutiny.
"Hmm."
Hawk picked up the two-handed sword Marco had forged, held it up to his eyes, and examined it closely in silence for a long time.
Seeing this, Marco felt a surge of confidence.
After all, when Hawk had inspected the previous apprentices' work, he'd usually made his judgment after only a quick glance or two.
After a long moment, the old blacksmith slowly lowered the two-handed sword and nodded slightly.
"Not bad. Your forging strength, rhythm, and striking points are all well-controlled. Only the ore smelting could use a bit more heat, but..."
He paused.
"You pass."
"Thank you, Mr. Hawk!"
Marco bowed deeply in excitement. When he straightened up, his gaze unconsciously flicked toward Roland, his eyes filled with contempt and provocation.
In his view, Roland had spent the past month clutching a strange dagger and using a file to carve meaningless patterns into it, never seriously practicing forging techniques.
What good was talent without years of diligent practice?
Without daily hammering and refinement, skill would only deteriorate.
How could Roland possibly compare to him now?
As for Roland's astonishing forging speed just now, Marco dismissed it as mere showmanship. After all, forging tools was often a slow and meticulous process, and excessive speed could actually compromise the quality of the finished product.
Thinking this, Marco turned to survey the group of failed apprentices, a cold snort escaping his nostrils. His already straight back stiffened further, his chin jutting out like a victorious lion flaunting its triumph.
But in the next instant, the arrogance in Marco's eyes froze, replaced by stunned disbelief. Master Hawk had slowly approached Roland's anvil, tapped the sword blade twice with his finger, and then abruptly looked up, his eyes sparkling with delight as he shouted, "Perfect! Passed! I declare Roland the winner of this assessment!"
As his words fell, a rare smile graced Master Hawk's usually stern face. He reached out to pat Roland's shoulder, his voice gentle yet authoritative.
"Lad, now that you're under my wing, don't even think about slacking off. Work hard, understand?"
"Yes, sir!"
Roland had anticipated this outcome ever since he became a blacksmith, but he couldn't hide his excitement.
Becoming a blacksmith apprentice directly under a Noble meant he'd receive a steady monthly salary and a significant boost in social status.
More importantly, it provided him with the opportunity to further hone his forging skills and continuously improve his Basic Forging Technique.
It was a win-win-win situation!
But just then, a voice twisted with anger suddenly erupted.
"Mr. Hawk, this..."
Marco clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His entire body trembled with agitation.
Ignoring Baron Forslin's presence, he shouted directly at Hawk.
"This isn't fair!"
"How could his forging skills possibly be better than mine? He's just a commoner! And my father is—"
Watching Marco's near-hysterical outburst, Hawk didn't lose his temper. Instead, a hint of pity flickered in his eyes.
To be fair, Marco's forging skills were truly outstanding.
If Roland, the prodigy, hadn't appeared out of nowhere, the apprentice position would undoubtedly have been his.
But Hawk wouldn't let sentimentality cloud his judgment.
Even though he had a good relationship with Marco's father, he knew how to separate personal feelings from professional matters.
"Shut up, you fool!"
After roaring at Marco, Hawk immediately turned to Baron Forslin and bowed in apology.
Then, he picked up two two-handed swords and exerted all his strength.
Clang!
With a crisp metallic clang, the heavy blades crashed together.
In the sunlight, tiny iron shards rained down.
Everyone stared intently.
Roland's two-handed sword remained as cold and sharp as ever, with only a few shallow scratches along the edge.
But Marco's blade now bore a gaping, horrifying notch.
The truth spoke for itself: the difference in quality was undeniable.
"Th-this can't be..."
Marco stumbled back two steps, the blood draining from his face, leaving him deathly pale.
During the forging process, he had clearly pushed himself beyond his limits.
That was supposed to be his most perfect masterpiece yet.
But the result before him was like a crushing hammer, shattering his proud ego to pieces.
He instinctively glanced at Roland, though the other boy wasn't even looking at him. Yet Marco felt as if he saw silent mockery in Roland's gaze.
The venomous flames of jealousy churned within the sixteen-year-old's chest, threatening to consume his reason.
His fingers spasmed, gripping the iron hammer beside the anvil, but he snapped back to his senses when he caught sight of Baron Forslin's fully armed guards.
Marco took a deep breath, finally lowering his head sullenly and burying his surging rage beneath a veil of silence.
"Then..."
Seeing Marco's continued silence, Hawk patted his shoulder comfortingly before turning to the other blacksmith apprentices.
"Those who failed the assessment, pack your belongings and leave the manor before nightfall. Understood?"
"Yes," the boys replied dejectedly, bowing their heads as they filed out of the blacksmith shop.
At that moment, Baron Forslin rose from his high-backed chair and slowly approached Hawk.
"Mr. Hawk, now that the assessment is over, I shall take my leave."
"Lord Baron, you're too polite."
Hawk was about to bow when the baron gently steadied his arm. The nobleman then turned to Roland, nodding approvingly.
"Well done, young man."
"Thank you for your praise, Lord Baron."
As Roland bowed, the baron turned and departed.
Seeing this, Darco smiled and waved at Roland before hurrying to catch up with his father.
"Why is this guy being so friendly to me?" Roland wondered.
Before he could dwell on it further, Hawk had already walked over. The old blacksmith was clearly in a good mood, his grizzled beard lifting with the corners of his mouth.
"Good lad! Knew I hadn't misjudged you! Go back to the dorms, pack your things, and report to the blacksmith shop on the east side of the manor later. Understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Hawk!"
"Hehehe..." Hawk lightly punched Roland in the chest with his fist, then clasped his hands behind his back and hummed a tune as he strolled away.
In an instant, the bustling assessment grounds fell silent, leaving Roland alone.
Now, he could no longer suppress his excitement. He clenched his fists tightly.
"It takes ordinary people at least a year to become a blacksmith apprentice just to learn the basics of forging. But with the help of my Job Panel, I've achieved this goal in only three months, and my forging skills are even more refined than those of regular apprentices!"
"Give me a little more time, and my skills will reach the level of a full-fledged blacksmith. Once I join the Blacksmith's Guild and earn my official blacksmith certification, I'll have finally managed to gain a foothold in this strange world. But..."
Roland exhaled deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.
Recalling his conversation with Bronson yesterday, he shook his head gently.
"Even as a blacksmith apprentice, you must never slacken."
"While continuing to hone your forging skills, you must also find ways to learn new combat techniques. If the opportunity arises, try other things as well to see if you can awaken new skills and professions."
As Roland thought this, a bright future unfolded before him.
He quickened his pace, leaving the assessment grounds.
Back at the dormitory, Roland quickly packed his belongings and turned to open the door.
He looked up and saw a dozen tall youths standing in the courtyard outside.
Are these the same people who took the assessment earlier? Are they here to cause trouble? The blacksmiths' sons shouldn't be that foolish... No.
He narrowed his eyes, carefully studying their faces. They were all commoner youths who, like him, had failed the Scholastic Test the first time but barely passed before the deadline.
Someone must be pulling the strings from behind the scenes.
Roland instantly understood what was happening.
He clearly remembered that when he first arrived at the manor, Hawk had imposed many restrictions, the most severe being:
Anyone caught fighting privately will be immediately expelled from the manor.
This is a trap, waiting for me to fall into it.
As this thought crossed his mind, Marco's face, twisted with jealousy, flashed before Roland's eyes.
"How childish."
In the past, Roland would have been helpless in this situation. He had neither the strength to fight back nor the freedom to break the rules. Even if he had won, he would only have been expelled from the manor.
As for these youths surrounding him? They were all destined to leave the manor after failing their assessment anyway. Whether they won or lost was completely irrelevant to them.
But things were different now.
He had officially become a blacksmith apprentice under Baron Forslin's witness. This meant that unless he committed a serious offense, Hawk would never expel him from the manor. In other words, he and these youths were no longer judged by the same standards.
Moreover, he clearly remembered how some of them had bullied him relentlessly when he first arrived in this world.
A cold smile curled Roland's lips as he calmly raised his head and swept his gaze across the group.
"Gentlemen... are you here for me?"
Before Roland could finish speaking, the burly youth leading the group stepped forward with a menacing grin.
"You think you're so great just because you cheated your way through the assessment?" He cracked his thick knuckles, each joint popping loudly. "Today, we'll teach you what it means to follow the rules."
Tension filled the clearing. Roland noticed the youths' strategic positioning, clearly indicating they had planned this in advance.
Three blocked Roland's retreat, five flanked his sides, and the remaining seven or eight advanced directly toward him.
After exchanging a glance, the leading youth suddenly threw a punch. The force of the blow stirred the bangs on Roland's forehead.
Bang!
Following the dull impact, everyone was stunned to see Roland had caught the heavy punch with a single hand.
His fingers, like iron clamps, gripped the youth's wrist. In the burly youth's terrified gaze, Roland twisted his wrist with a gentle snap.
Crack!
The sharp sound of dislocated bones was followed by a scream.
Roland followed through with a knee strike, driving his knee hard into the youth's abdomen. The 80-kilogram frame flew backward like a discarded sack, knocking down three or four others behind him.
"How could this be possible?"
The remaining youths stared in disbelief. They clearly remembered how weak Roland had been before.
If not for the protection of that dim-witted giant named Sean, Roland would likely have been driven from the manor long before the assessment ended, worn down by their bullying.
Hearing the pained groans of their companions, fear flickered across the youths' faces. But the promise of coins from Marco kept them from retreating.
"All together!" someone shouted from the crowd.
Over a dozen youths charged forward simultaneously.
Roland's eyes blazed with fierce light, his 6.5 strength attribute fully unleashed.
He sidestepped the first punch, then slashed his right palm like a blade across the neck of the nearest attacker.
The youth crumpled to the ground without a sound.
A gust of wind swept in from the left. Roland ducked to avoid a sweeping wooden club, then countered with an elbow strike to the ribs of the attacker.
A clear crack of bone echoed as the youth collapsed, spewing blood and foam.
Seizing the opportunity, Roland snatched the dropped club and swung it in a horizontal arc, sending three more attackers flying.
In less than a minute, the clearing was littered with groaning figures sprawled across the ground.
The only youth still standing trembled violently, his trousers already soaked.
As Roland slowly approached, the terrified youth rolled his eyes and fainted dead away.
"Damn it! Useless mud-crawlers!"
Marco clutched his empty purse tightly, hiding in the shadows as he ground his teeth and muttered curses under his breath.
"Those damn guards! They're usually patrolling around here at this time. Why today?"
Just then, the heavy thud of footsteps echoed nearby.
Marco turned to see several fully armed regular soldiers approaching.
"What are you doing here?"
Marco's eyes lit up. He scrambled out of the dense forest, waving his arms and shouting, "Sir! Sir! They're fighting here!"
"What?"
Marco's heart leaped with joy as he watched the lead soldier frown and approach Roland.
But his smile froze the next moment.
He realized Roland showed no sign of panic. In fact, upon recognizing the soldier's face, a slight smile curled at the corner of his lips.
Clearly, he was in a good mood.
(End of the Chapter)
Translator's Corner
Hey guys, so as I tried to login into my ScribbleHub account to today and found that it was banned.😭 All the stories have also been taken off of the site. I don't what has happened, I will try to contact them and figure out what's going on. Please contact me if you know what could be happening and have any potential solutions.
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