Translator: CinderTL
Time flowed like a silent stream, and more than half a month had passed since Roland's return from Pine Wood Town.
His life had settled back into its familiar rhythm of quiet fulfillment.
He worked diligently at the blacksmith shop in the mornings, engaged in self-training in the evenings, and studied ancient script with Bronson at night. Occasionally, he would experiment with new things, hoping to awaken new skills.
Bronson's research was progressing steadily. He had successfully designed a spell pattern perfectly suited to the Skeletal Remains. However, etching these intricate patterns completely onto the bone surface would likely take considerable time.
The only disappointment was the scholar's lackluster performance in Alchemy. He was utterly unfamiliar with the potion-making process and possessed little natural talent for it. After dozens of failed attempts, he not only failed to brew the potion to awaken the Consciousness Shoal but also wasted most of their precious ingredients.
Seeing this, Roland, who had successfully brewed the Mithril Body Tempering Elixir before, volunteered to take over the task.
To his surprise, the process of brewing the Consciousness Shoal potion proved far more complex and intricate than he had imagined.
Each material required a unique processing method, and the slightest deviation in quantity or step would ruin the entire batch.
Compared to the complex process of brewing this potion, crafting the Mithril Body Tempering Elixir was as simple as mixing water and mud.
After several attempts, Roland still failed.
The only silver lining was that during this process, he unexpectedly awakened a skill related to Alchemy.
Due to a shortage of materials, Roland turned to Bronson to learn how to brew simpler, more basic potions.
Although his success rate remained low, his Alchemy skill experience continued to accumulate.
Setting aside this frustrating matter, Roland found satisfaction in the orderly routine of his days.
If only he didn't have to endure the constant chatter of a certain someone, it would be perfect.
"Roland, have you heard?"
Darco, whose leg injury had almost fully healed, said excitedly as he brushed down his horse. "The demonic beast disturbance in Black Cedar Forest seems to have subsided!"
"Those demonic beasts, whatever they were up to, dug a massive nest underground and then shut themselves in, never causing trouble again. As a result, old Beckham..."
Roland interjected at the opportune moment.
"He disbanded the local militia, leaving only his personal troops to guard the edge of the Black Cedar Forest."
"Hmm?"
Darco suddenly widened his eyes, staring in surprise at the young man kneeling before Black Wind, meticulously cleaning mud from the horse's hooves.
"Roland, how did you know? That's insider information! I just heard it from my father and rushed here to tell you."
Roland carefully removed the last speck of dirt, his thoughts drifting back to the letter he'd received not long ago. Sean's honest face involuntarily flashed through his mind.
"Who knew that Sean would end up in Beckham's personal guard?"
A smile tugged at his lips.
He stood up, smoothed Black Wind's glossy mane, and lifted the wooden bucket filled with clean water.
"I have a friend serving under Lord Beckham."
"Your friend?"
Darco's eyes lit up. He gently tapped his horse's flank, urging it to move away before leaning in closer.
"Anyone Beckham takes under his wing must be pretty skilled."
He threw an arm around Roland's increasingly muscular frame, placing a hand on his shoulder with a slight effort.
"Listen, Roland, what future is there in serving Beckham? Why not come work for me instead?"
"Once I return from my studies at the Knight Academy, I'll immediately promote him to my knight's squire!"
"Don't dream."
Roland easily shook off Darco's arm and continued scrubbing the horse's mane with water from the wooden bucket.
"My friend grew up hearing legends about Lord Beckham. It took him ages to become one of his soldiers. Why would he suddenly switch to following you? Besides..."
Roland glanced at the golden subtitles that had suddenly appeared before him. His expression flickered slightly, but he didn't immediately check them. Instead, he asked a question that had been on his mind for a long time.
"Darco, your tone suggests you have some reservations about Lord Beckham?"
"Reservations? Hmph!"
Darco snorted coldly, his expression strained.
"That old man's story is indeed legendary. He graduated from the Knight Academy as a member of a fallen noble family and even inherited a Breathing Technique."
"But he changed his family name just to curry favor with the noble who granted him the Breathing Technique!"
The young noble slammed the brush against the side of the bucket, sending water splashing everywhere.
"While... I can understand why he did it, but..."
Darco abruptly stopped speaking and waved his hand dismissively, clearly agitated.
"Forget it, let's not talk about that anymore."
The young noble abruptly changed the subject, then leaned in close, his fingertip lightly tapping Roland's iron sword at his waist.
"By the way, what material is this iron sword made of? How has it survived so many fierce battles without a scratch? You wouldn't have..."
Darco winked mischievously.
"Secretly used some magical technique or material, have you? If you'd forge one for me too, I'll keep your secret safe. How about it?"
Recognizing the teasing tone, Roland shook his head with a wry smile.
Darco had a point.
An ordinary iron sword, after enduring so many battles, should have already suffered a curled or chipped blade, even if the rest of the blade remained intact.
The reason his iron sword was so durable was entirely due to the extra benefit of [Battlefield Maintenance].
In fact, until the life-or-death struggle against the Winged Kobold, he hadn't fully grasped the true power of this ability.
During that battle, the iron sword clashed head-on with the kobold's heavy battleaxe multiple times.
Yet after the fight, when he examined the sword, he found that aside from some minor wear on the blade, the entire weapon was still in perfect condition. A simple sharpening was all it needed to be ready for battle again.
But this secret, he obviously couldn't share with Darco.
Roland merely smiled faintly, about to offer a vague excuse, when the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly echoed nearby.
Turning his head, Roland saw a servant hurrying toward them.
"Young Master Darco!"
At the sight of the servant, Darco instantly dropped his earlier carefree expression.
Frowning slightly, he lowered his voice and snapped, "What's the rush? Take your time and speak properly!"
"Y-yes, sir."
Startled by Darco's sharp gaze, the servant flinched, quickly wiped the sweat from his brow, and bowed deeply.
"The master requests your immediate presence."
"Father?"
Darco glanced at the sun, which had yet to set, and said in confusion, "Isn't it still too early for dinner?"
Despite his many questions, he neatly straightened his slightly rumpled collar and turned to Roland with an apologetic smile.
"Roland, I must leave now. Let's talk again tomorrow."
After Darco and the servant had disappeared into the distance, Roland suddenly felt a sense of peace settle over the surroundings. He couldn't help but let out a long sigh of relief.
Composing himself, he summoned the Job Panel.
[Detection complete. You are eligible to become a basic class Groom.]
[Requirements: Strength 0.5, Agility 0.5, two max-level horse-taming skills.]
[Would you like to accept this class?]
"So it really is Groom?"
Seeing the class match his expectations perfectly, Roland raised an eyebrow and silently thought, "Accept Groom."
[Class accepted. Current class: Groom]
[Attribute bonuses: Strength +0.5, Agility +0.5]
[Acquired Trait: Sprint]
[Sprint: Temporarily unlocks the mount's full potential, significantly boosting speed and ignoring terrain penalties (such as swamps or rocky ground). Duration depends on the mount's stamina.]
"Another active trait," Roland thought, his eyes lighting up. After carefully reading the trait description, he mounted Black Wind and chose a wide path in the training grounds.
As he silently recited the activation incantation, a warm current surged from within him, flowing through the reins into Black Wind.
The already magnificent black stallion suddenly reared up and neighed, its mane exploding like flames. It pawed the air twice before landing, leaving half-inch-deep hoofprints in the compacted earth.
"Go!"
With a slight tug on the reins, Black Wind shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
Caught off guard, Roland was thrown backward by the sudden acceleration, the scenery on either side blurring into streaks of color.
The wind tore at his linen shirt, and his ponytail streamed straight behind him like a black comet's tail.
As they tore through the training grounds, several stable boys grooming horses stared wide-eyed, their water buckets overturned by the gust of wind.
But the most astonishing display came when they approached an obstacle.
As Black Wind charged toward a waist-high pile of firewood at the edge of the grounds, Roland instinctively tightened the reins. But then he saw the horse's hind leg muscles bulge, and with a leap that seemed to defy gravity, Black Wind soared over the barrier.
In the split second of midair suspension, Roland felt his own violent heartbeat resonate with the surging blood in Black Wind's veins.
Crash!
The impact of landing sent shattered stones scattering against the wooden fence with a crackling sound.
After a moment, Black Wind finally came to a halt, panting white foam. Its pupils dilated and contracted erratically, its muscles trembling uncontrollably—clearly, the burst of speed had placed an immense strain on its physiology.
Seeing this, Roland quickly dismounted. After a thorough examination confirmed that Black Wind was merely exhausted and unharmed, he finally exhaled deeply, his mood shifting to excitement.
"Attacking with a weapon at this speed, combined with the Momentum Slash technique... I doubt anyone could react in time."
Imagining himself wielding a long-handled weapon, sweeping across the battlefield like a whirlwind, Roland's eyes lit up.
But then he glanced back at Black Wind, still gasping for breath, and shook his head ruefully.
"Just like Momentum Slash, Sprint leaves the mount exhausted afterward. It seems I can only use it as a last resort."
"But now that I've become a stablehand, I meet the attribute requirements to become a warrior. And with Lion Swordsmanship nearly maxed out, I should be able to advance in just a few days. Right..."
Thinking of this, Roland immediately turned his attention to his Job Panel.
"I haven't even checked what extra bonuses job resonance with the stablehand class has triggered."
(End of the Chapter)
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