Translator: CinderTL
"By the Heavenly Father!"
Darco rubbed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his eyes were filled with astonishment.
"Roland, have you... grown taller?"
Hearing Darco's exclamation, Roland finally realized his line of sight was indeed slightly higher than usual.
He walked to the water basin at the edge of the training ground and examined his reflection in the water.
His already upright posture now appeared even more robust, his shoulders nearly as broad as Darco's.
The most striking change was his face.
The youthful contours that had once lingered were now sharply defined, and his eyes radiated a sharp, piercing glint.
This was clearly the effect of the attribute enhancements gained after becoming a warrior.
Perhaps the additional benefits of the [Hundred-Refined Steel] skill also played a role.
But Roland naturally wouldn't reveal this secret to Darco.
He simply smiled faintly and said casually, "I've just been training harder lately."
Darco approached suspiciously, circling Roland and scrutinizing him from head to toe.
"Are you sure you haven't been sneaking around eating the hearts of savage beasts? I heard barbarian warriors in the North do that..."
"Stop reading so many adventure novels."
Roland laughed, waving his hand to interrupt his friend's speculation. He casually set his short-handled axe aside and accepted the water flask Darco offered.
"What brings you here today?"
As he spoke, Roland pulled out the flask's wooden stopper.
He was about to tease Darco further when his brow suddenly furrowed.
His nose twitched slightly, and he raised an eyebrow, looking at Darco.
"I seem to recall Lord Baron Forslin forbade you from drinking alcohol?"
"Shhh! Don't let Old Charles hear you!"
Darco immediately reacted like a startled mouse, frantically raising his index finger to his lips.
After glancing around to ensure no one was listening, he let out a long sigh of relief.
"I managed to sneak this out of the kitchen. I've been feeling down lately, and I just wanted to taste some wine."
With that, he snatched the flask and took a large gulp of the ale.
"Down?" Roland took a small sip. The sour, bitter ale spread across his tongue, and its faint malt aroma couldn't mask its poor quality. "What do you have to be down about? Captain John handles the manor's security, and Mr. Charles, the steward, manages the daily affairs."
"You're right... but still..."
Darco sighed deeply, recounting his father's parting instructions in a halting voice.
As the conversation deepened, the young noble's voice grew increasingly somber.
When he finished, he slumped his head in despair.
"Roland, am I just useless? At my age, I'm still causing my father so much worry."
So it was just this kind of adolescent angst.
After listening to Darco's lament, Roland, who had been expecting crucial information, barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.
He shook his head slightly, momentarily unsure how to comfort the young noble.
To be fair, in Roland's eyes, Darco was already an anomaly among nobles. While he still carried the typical noble arrogance and looked down on commoners, his punishments rarely went beyond verbal reprimands. He spent his days hunting or wandering around his manor practicing martial arts. As far as Roland knew, such behavior, though not exactly noble, was rare among the Golden Valley Kingdom's nobility. Compared to Baron Gavin of the neighboring Dawn Territory, Darco practically seemed like a saint. Gavin not only ruthlessly exploited his territory's commoners but had also recently reinstated the abhorrent right of the first night. In contrast, Darco, who was obsessed with hunting, and Baron Forslin, who loved lavish banquets, seemed as pure as monks in a monastery.
But seeing Darco's dejected expression, Roland found himself momentarily speechless. That's just how men were. If it were just lighthearted banter, he could have joined in, but offering gentle words of comfort was simply beyond him. After a long moment of hesitation, Roland could only manage a few perfunctory platitudes.
Fortunately, Darco hadn't come seeking solace; he merely wanted someone to confide in.
Before long, amidst Roland's lukewarm reassurances, the young noble's spirits began to lift.
"Thanks, Roland!"
Having unburdened himself, Darco's usual smile returned.
He glanced up at the darkening sky, straightened, and brushed bark fragments from his robe.
"I'm hungry. Take me to try the food you usually eat?"
Roland shrugged indifferently and led Darco toward the blacksmith apprentices' mess hall.
The young noble's sudden visit naturally caused a stir.
While the apprentices maintained a veneer of respect, their ravenous eating speed revealed that none of them wanted to share a room with him.
But Darco remained oblivious to their sidelong glances.
He didn't disdain the simple fare; instead, he ate with gusto.
However, when he saw Roland's appetite, his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
After a satisfying meal, the two emerged from the mess hall as dusk had completely enveloped the sky. A few early stars twinkled faintly in the night.
After bidding farewell to Darco, Roland walked alone toward Bronson's secluded wooden cabin.
"Now that I've successfully become a warrior and haven't received any new job advancement prompts, I should quickly head to the port east of Dawn Territory to buy Devilfish and brew the Awakened Consciousness Shoal potion," Roland mused as he walked.
"Once I return, I can try learning tricks and continue honing my forging skills to prepare for joining the Blacksmith's Guild."
"Becoming a full-fledged blacksmith will not only grant me a certain social status but also provide a stable livelihood. Then, I might consider leaving this place to search for clues about the Knight's Breathing Technique in other countries."
Lost in thought, Roland pushed open the creaking wooden door.
He greeted Bronson as usual and then immersed himself in the study of ancient texts.
Under the influence of the Focus trait, Roland's reading speed visibly accelerated. The scratching of the quill on parchment grew increasingly frantic.
Unnoticed, the book titled Basic Magic Theory on his desk had been read to its conclusion.
Only when a wave of intense dizziness washed over him did he reluctantly stop.
As he rubbed his throbbing temples, a few lines of dazzling golden text flashed before his eyes:
Arcane Knowledge Acquired, Current Level: Lv.1
Basic Magic Theory Acquired, Current Level: Lv.1
Detection Complete: Eligible to advance to the advanced class of Enchanter
Requirements: Strength 4, Agility 3, Spirit 7, Lv.MAX Basic Forging Technique, Lv.MAX Basic Magic Theory, Inscribe 0/300 Spell Patterns on Equipment
Host does not meet the requirements for advancement.
"Enchanter! And an advanced class at that!"
The sudden appearance of the golden text jolted Roland awake.
But as he carefully reviewed the advancement requirements, he couldn't help but smack his lips.
"My strength and agility attributes are already met. I can grind Basic Forging Technique and Basic Magic Theory to max level eventually. As for inscribing three hundred spell patterns on equipment, that's just a matter of time. But this seven-point mental attribute..."
Roland shook his head helplessly, staring at his meager 1.8 mental attribute.
So far, the only gains he'd made were the 0.5 mental attribute bonus he received when he first became an adept and the measly 0.1 increase he'd managed after enduring the excruciating pain of the Mithril Body Tempering Technique twice.
Beyond that, he still hadn't found any other way to raise his mental attribute.
"Well, it's an advanced class, so it's only natural that the requirements are tough. I can't rush this. Instead, I should focus on trying to awaken new skills or trigger a high-tier class."
"And maybe the potion from the Awakened Consciousness Shoal will boost my mental attribute? But..."
Roland shook his head, temporarily pushing his mental attribute woes aside. His thoughts drifted back to scenes from games and movies in his past life, and a spark of anticipation ignited in his eyes.
"If enchanters need Max-Level Forging Art and magic theory, then their job must be to imbue equipment with magical effects, right?"
"Like enchanting a weapon with the fire element to increase its damage? Or imbuing armor with the earth element to enhance its defense? And..."
Thinking of Bronson's research on special spell patterns that could absorb Magic Elements, Roland couldn't help but look wistful, his mind racing with countless possibilities.
"If it really works like that, it would be so fascinating."
Without realizing it, the night had deepened into inky blackness.
Before leaving, Roland carefully packed several bottles of each of the three types of potions into his bag.
The pale blue Energy Potions could dispel fatigue, the pale yellow Sharp Eye Potions enhanced night vision, and the pale red Healing Potions were for treating external injuries.
These were all the potions he could currently brew.
He had already completed this month's forging tasks far ahead of schedule.
So Roland planned to ask Master Hawk for leave first thing tomorrow morning and set off for the port to purchase Devilfish.
This journey would be much longer than his previous trip to Pine Wood Town, so he needed to make thorough preparations.
These basic potions, though their effects were subtle, might prove surprisingly effective in a critical moment.
The manor was eerily silent in the night.
As Roland walked alone along the gravel path, the rare tranquility unconsciously eased his tense nerves.
Suddenly, his ear twitched, and he snapped his head up to the night sky.
The starry canvas above had been replaced by countless crimson pinpricks of light.
"Those are... rockets!"
Before the fiery rain could fall, Roland recognized the deadly glow.
At the same moment, a piercing alarm shattered the night's silence, followed by a heart-wrenching scream that echoed through the manor.
"Enemy attack!"
(End of the Chapter)