Translator: CinderTL
Seeing John's dejected state, Roland's heart sank slightly.
After a moment of contemplation, he asked slowly, "Could it be... Captain John, were you defeated by kobolds?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Roland realized the guess seemed unlikely.
Based on his previous experiences, ordinary kobolds posed no threat to the standing army. If they could truly defeat the standing army, it would mean the enemy possessed more than one Aberrant Kobold.
But if that were the case...
It wasn't that Roland underestimated John, but he doubted the veteran would have escaped unscathed from such a situation.
"Sigh..."
Hearing Roland's question, John sighed heavily again.
He downed the last of his wine, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. After wiping the wine stains from his beard, he continued, "If we'd actually faced those mongrels, it would have been better. But in reality..."
John slumped back in his chair, his rough fingers unconsciously stroking the empty glass. He looked utterly defeated.
"We haven't even seen their shadows!"
"Those beasts must be using some kind of trick. They always manage to slip past our defenses undetected, striking villages only under the cover of night."
John's voice suddenly choked.
His calloused fist clenched involuntarily, his knuckles turning a pale blue from the strain. The veins on the back of his hand stood out prominently.
The thatched huts soaked in blood, the shattered corpses, and the heart-wrenching cries of orphans still haunted his mind.
"By the time we arrived, they'd vanished without a trace, as cunning as rats in a burrow. Those damned beasts!"
Bang!
John slammed his fist onto the oak table, making the wine glasses jump.
His bloodshot eyes burned with fury, yet also held a deep sense of helplessness.
"What's even more infuriating is that during our pursuit, we discovered that the kobold warband was actually mixed with goblins!"
"Goblins?"
Roland frowned, immediately picturing a small, green-skinned humanoid.
"That's right!"
John ground his teeth.
"You might not know this, but those green-skinned mongrels have always been cowardly and timid. In the past, they'd only dare to steal livestock in large packs. But now..."
His voice trembled with rage.
"They've dared to take up arms and join the kobolds in slaughtering humans!"
The veteran shook with fury, opening his mouth to curse again, but finding no words vile enough to express his outrage. He could only let out a frustrated sigh.
Roland watched John's anger silently, wisely choosing to remain silent.
Only after the veteran's breathing had gradually calmed did he pick up the wine jug.
The amber liquid slowly filled the cup.
"And then what happened, Captain John?" Roland asked softly, pushing the cup toward him.
"Then what? Ha..."
John waved his hand, a bitter smile twisting his lips.
"Later, the Commander had to request assistance from Lord Baron, who dispatched several military horses. We selected our most elite soldiers to form a cavalry scouting unit, patrolling day and night. Only then were we able to barely contain the beasts' attacks."
John raised his wine cup and drained it in one gulp. His Adam's apple bobbed as the liquid flowed down his throat, oblivious to the wine dripping from his lips.
"Those mongrels, realizing they couldn't gain an advantage, quieted down for a while. But..."
John suddenly lowered his voice, his knuckles unconsciously tapping the table.
"The scouts' final report indicated they were moving toward the Black Cedar Forest."
At this point, John let out a cold snort, a flicker of contempt in his eyes.
"Hmph! Lord Beckham is stationed in the Black Cedar Forest. Those filthy beasts won't be able to stir up any trouble there!"
As if recalling the knight's extraordinary strength, far beyond that of ordinary men, John's heart relaxed slightly. He leaned back in his chair and gazed out the window.
"Whoa! It's already this late!"
The old soldier smacked his lips and stood up.
"Alright, kid, I have patrol duty soon, so I can't chat any longer. I'll come find you tomorrow afternoon to teach you how to use a bow and arrow!"
"Sounds good, Captain John. I'll be waiting."
"I told you not to be so formal with me!"
John patted Roland's shoulder with a touch of annoyance before swaying toward the outer gate.
After seeing John off, Roland closed the door, returned to the table, and sat down, his brow furrowing.
"Black Cedar Forest..."
Roland repeated the familiar name under his breath, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the rim of his wine glass.
For some reason, an inexplicable unease spread through him.
If this had happened before, Roland might not have given it a second thought.
But since hearing Mr. Bronson's theory about the resurgence of the Magic Element, these unusual phenomena had forced him to think more deeply.
First, the demonic beasts of the Black Cedar Forest had rioted. Then, the neighboring Dawn Territory had experienced demonic beast disturbances.
And now, these demonic beasts were all converging on the Black Cedar Forest.
As various clues piled up, a terrifying thought began to form in Roland's mind.
Could there be something deep within the Black Cedar Forest that attracts demonic beasts?
However, the information he possessed was too limited. No matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn't make sense of it.
"Forget it," Roland muttered, rubbing his throbbing temples. "With a knight stationed here, things shouldn't get too out of hand. If worst comes to worst..."
"Once I've settled into the life of a blacksmith apprentice, I'll find time to consult Mr. Bronson. Perhaps he knows something."
Having made up his mind, Roland got up to clear the remnants of his meal from the table before collapsing onto his bed, utterly exhausted.
Unlike the hard-as-stone communal sleeping platform he'd slept on before, this bed was surprisingly soft and comfortable.
Fatigue washed over him like a tidal wave. The moment his head touched the pillow, Roland drifted into a deep sleep.
The next morning, Roland remembered George's instructions and arrived at the blacksmith shop just as dawn was breaking.
"Excellent! Not a single one missing!" Hawk's booming voice echoed through the empty hall.
Hawk stood with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze sweeping over each apprentice's face.
When his eyes passed over Roland, he gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"Now, let me assign today's tasks."
After explaining the work, Hawk added a few reminders before hurrying out of the blacksmith shop.
The task content was surprisingly simple.
Perhaps because spring planting was approaching, today's work wasn't weapons or armor, but various farm tools.
Since their construction was far simpler than weapons, Roland only glanced briefly at the blueprints before skillfully pulling the bellows.
Clang, clang, clang!
With the crisp sound of metal striking metal, the iron head of a hoe quickly took shape.
Roland swiftly assembled it with a smoothly polished oak handle, his movements fluid and practiced.
Just then, a line of golden text suddenly appeared before his eyes:
Forged a finished tool. Basic Forging Technique gains 1 experience.
"Farm tools count as finished tools too?"
Roland's eyes lit up, and a surge of joy welled up within him.
Roland had initially assumed that only decent weapons and armor would be recognized by the System, which had caused him considerable frustration.
After all, forging even the simplest iron sword would take him at least half a day with his current skill.
While occasionally activating his Focus trait during the assessment the previous day had significantly boosted his efficiency, the cost was too high to sustain.
At this rate, leveling up his Basic Forging Technique from level 1 to level 2 and completing the Job Panel's requirement of 100 basic tools would take at least three to six months.
But now, everything had changed.
Compared to crafting fine weapons and armor, agricultural tools were simpler to forge, saving both time and effort.
Realizing this, Roland's grip on his hammer tightened slightly, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
He swiftly completed his task, neatly arranging the last hoe in the finished product area.
As he straightened up, Roland's gaze drifted unconsciously toward the other apprentices' workstations.
He saw that most of them had only two or three tools laid out, and were gathered in small groups, chatting idly.
This wasn't due to laziness.
Hawk's assignments were already quite lenient. Even the slowest apprentice could easily finish their daily quota in a day, let alone Roland, who could complete his in half a day.
Watching this, a glint flashed in Roland's eyes.
He clearly remembered George saying that every step of the forging process, from raw materials to finished products, had to be meticulously recorded in the blacksmith shop's ledger.
This strict management meant he could no longer secretly pilfer ore to forge tools on his own, as he had done during his apprenticeship.
But relying solely on Hawk's assigned tasks to rapidly improve his Basic Forging Technique was like trying to fill a vast ocean with a single cup.
Roland wiped the sweat from his hands as a plan began to take shape in his mind.
"Mr. George," Roland said, approaching George, who was chatting with others.
"Oh, it's you, Roland," George replied, turning around and patting his shoulder warmly. "How many times have I told you to just call me George? Did you run into any trouble?"
"No, sir," Roland said with a shy smile, pointing to his workbench. "I've already finished my tasks. Seeing you still busy, I thought I'd lend a hand as a way to repay your kindness yesterday."
George was momentarily stunned, then burst into hearty laughter.
"Ha! You're quite the diligent one, aren't you!"
George watched Roland's energetic demeanor, as if seeing his own younger self.
The eager young blacksmith apprentice who was so passionate about forging that he wanted to spend all day in the blacksmith shop.
"But no need," George said, waving his hand. "It's almost lunchtime. Since you're finished, why don't you go eat first?"
He lowered his voice and winked slyly. "Don't worry, I won't tell Master Hawk you left early."
"George, you misunderstand," Roland said quickly. "I genuinely want to help."
George exchanged a look with the apprentice beside him and finally shrugged in resignation.
"Alright, stubborn kid. But let me warn you first..."
"I understand!" Roland interrupted, thumping his chest with a loud thump. "If Master Hawk asks, I'll say it's because my technique is lacking and I specifically asked for your guidance!"
"You little rascal," George chuckled, waving Roland away. He turned back to his companion and resumed their conversation.
With George's permission, Roland was overjoyed and immediately fetched the ore.
As the lunch bell rang, Roland managed to complete George's task just before the midday break.
Watching the experience points on his System panel steadily increase, he hummed a tune as he headed to the mess hall.
Compared to the simple fare of his apprenticeship days, the food here was practically luxurious.
Though black bread remained the staple, the accompanying dishes were far more lavish.
A rich fish soup shimmered with oil droplets, thick slices of cured meat gleamed with an amber hue, and two boiled eggs rested peacefully on the plate, accompanied by a small pat of golden butter.
Roland, famished, eagerly spread the butter on his black bread and devoured the meal with gusto.
Only after his plate was completely empty did he notice something amiss.
"Strange," he mused, patting his flat stomach. "Ever since I started practicing the Mithril Body Tempering Technique, my appetite seems to have grown, and I get hungry faster. Right! I should be able to practice the technique again in a few days. This is the perfect opportunity to test its level cap!"
With this thought, he went back for two more servings.
After consuming the equivalent of three people's worth of food, the long-absent feeling of fullness finally settled in.
Satisfied with a hearty belch, Roland immediately turned and headed back to the blacksmith shop.
The apprentices who hadn't finished their tasks that morning were prime opportunities for him to grind experience!
Soon, with George's guarantee, Roland took on another apprentice's work.
Just as he finished the final step and stretched his body, a sudden flurry of urgent hoofbeats echoed from outside the blacksmith shop.
"Hwhin-hwhin!"
Accompanied by the neigh of a fine steed, a tall figure strode into the blacksmith shop against the setting sun.
The blinding sunlight made it impossible for Roland to see the newcomer's face clearly.
"I apologize for the interruption, but I'm looking for..."
The tall figure's gaze swept across the shop before settling on Roland.
"Hey! Roland!"
The newcomer threw back his cloak, revealing a head of dazzling golden hair.
"Do you remember me? Darco!"
"Of course, Young Master Darco."
Roland was about to bow when a powerful arm firmly steadied him.
The touch startled Roland.
This guy's strength... seems to be far greater than mine.
But Darco seemed oblivious, instead clapping Roland warmly on the shoulder.
"No need for such formality next time we meet!"
"Yes, Young Master Darco. May I ask..."
"Are you free tomorrow morning?"
Without waiting for an answer, Darco draped an arm around Roland's shoulders, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.
This sudden intimacy left Roland somewhat flustered.
Seeing this, George immediately set down his hammer and hurried over.
He bowed slightly, a respectful yet dignified smile on his face.
"Young Master Darco, Roland just arrived at the blacksmith shop today and still has a lot to learn."
Hearing this, the smile on Darco's face remained unchanged, but his amber eyes narrowed slightly, resembling a predator sizing up its prey.
"Oh? Is that so?"
Darco's voice remained gentle, but Roland clearly saw a flicker of coldness in his eyes.
"Yet I heard Roland already exceeded his quota for today."
George's forehead was beaded with fine sweat, but he persisted. "Young Master Darco, Master Hawk instructed—"
"George."
Roland took a deep breath, a gentle smile spreading across his face.
Though he didn't know Darco's intentions, he never wanted to involve innocent people in his personal affairs.
Moreover, after careful reflection, Roland was certain he had no grievances with Darco.
From the original body's memories, Darco didn't seem to have any peculiar habits, so there shouldn't be any danger.
Even if an unexpected situation arose, his current strength would be more than enough to protect himself.
With this in mind, Roland continued,
"Since Young Master Darco needs help, could you please ask Master Hawk for leave for me?"
"Alright."
George's gaze at Roland was filled with worry, but he finally nodded lightly and turned to leave slowly.
"Great! It's settled then, Roland!"
Darco laughed heartily, releasing his arm from Roland's shoulder.
"I'll come get you tomorrow morning."
Before the words had even faded, the golden-haired young man had already turned and strode away, his cloak billowing behind him, leaving only the sound of his firm footsteps echoing in the air.
Watching Darco's retreating figure, Roland frowned and rubbed his shoulder, which still ached from the grip.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk..."
Just then, a familiar tutting sound came from behind him.
Roland turned to see John standing beside him, eyes narrowed as he watched Darco's departure.
"I never would have guessed, kid," the old soldier said, nudging Roland with his elbow, his tone heavy with meaning. "You actually know Young Master Darco?"
(End of the Chapter)
Translator's Corner
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🔓 𝔴𝔴𝔴.𝔠𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔩.𝔠𝔬𝔪 — 13 Series (7 Ongoing) | 14+ New Chapters Daily | 6,100+ FREE