Translator: CinderTL
"Finally, my Basic Forging Technique has reached max level."
Staring at the "MAX" displayed next to Basic Forging Technique on his Job Panel, Roland let out a long sigh and picked up his hammer again.
Amidst the rhythmic clang of metal, he focused on the subtle differences in each strike.
Unlike other skills, reaching max level in Basic Forging Technique didn't grant a single, dramatic breakthrough. Instead, it felt like the culmination of experience, technique, and insight, all refined into a perfect whole.
After quenching another red-hot tool in the cold water basin, Roland's gaze returned to his Job Panel.
"So, to become an enchanter, I only need to max out Basic Magic Theory and complete three hundred Spell Pattern Inscriptions."
Unlike Basic Forging Technique, which capped at level five, Roland had already pushed Basic Magic Theory to level six thanks to his Focus trait. Yet the "MAX" indicator still hadn't appeared.
This led him to speculate that Basic Magic Theory's max level likely lay around level seven.
As for Spell Pattern Inscription...
This task proved far more complex than forging tools, demanding exponentially more time and effort.
But through Roland's relentless daily practice, his progress had steadily approached three hundred inscriptions. Now, achieving his goal was merely a matter of time.
"Even though we're both advanced classes, becoming an enchanter, a profession leaning toward the lifestyle side, actually takes longer than becoming an apprentice knight."
The thought flashed through Roland's mind, but he felt no regret.
After all, compared to the life-or-death combat required to become an apprentice knight, the requirements for becoming an enchanter were far more lenient.
The only cost was time.
With this in mind, he casually placed the newly forged tools into the cargo box and rang the wind chimes by the door.
A crisp knock quickly followed.
"Come in," Roland called out.
Only after receiving permission did the person outside slowly push open the door, revealing a short but exceptionally sturdy figure.
It was Dwarf Noel, the receptionist from the Blacksmith's Guild.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Roland."
"Good afternoon, Noel."
After the brief greeting, Noel bent down to begin inspecting the tools in the cargo box.
He lightly tapped a shield with his knuckles, tilting his head to listen to the long, clear resonance. A nearly entranced expression gradually spread across his face.
"Tsk tsk... truly..." Noel murmured in admiration, his gaze shifting to Roland.
"Mr. Roland, your forging skills seem to have improved again. Have you really not considered opening your own blacksmith shop? Just look at this iron sword..."
The dwarf pulled an iron sword from the cargo box and held it aloft.
The sharp blade gleamed under the afternoon sun, its chilling edge radiating a menacing aura.
"Exquisitely crafted, superior quality—selling it for several dozen silver coins would be no problem at all!"
"Heh."
Roland simply shook his head at the remark.
His purpose in visiting the Blacksmith's Guild had always been to refine his Basic Forging Technique.
As for money?
With the generous merchant Colin by his side, he had no need to worry about finances during his stay in the River Domain Nations.
"I have no intention of spending my days cooped up in a blacksmith shop, eking out a living by hammering iron," Roland said with a light chuckle.
"That's true enough," Noel replied, setting down the iron sword and nodding thoughtfully.
He had heard the recent rumors about Roland circulating in the capital.
This knowledge added a layer of genuine respect to his admiration for the young man.
In terms of forging skill alone, Roland had already reached a level of mastery that many veteran blacksmiths who had spent decades honing their craft could only dream of.
What was even more astonishing was that this young man possessed strength far beyond ordinary mortals.
"Mr. Roland not only possesses such exquisite forging skills but also the combat prowess of an extraordinary warrior," Noel mused.
"Slaying demonic beasts, slaughtering Bear Goblins—tsk, tsk, tsk... Is this truly the difference between a genius and an ordinary person?"
Roland ignored the complex emotions in Noel's eyes, wiping his hands with a greasy rag as he casually asked,
"Oh, Noel, is Master Griffin here today?"
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Roland," Noel replied immediately with a slight bow, his expression respectful. "Master Griffin is out on business today and not at the guild. Is there anything you'd like me to relay to him?"
"Nothing urgent."
Roland waved dismissively, observing the dwarf's cautious demeanor. Now that his Basic Forging Technique had reached maximum level, there was no need for him to spend much more time at the Blacksmith's Guild. He could use the extra time to practice his Maritime Survival Skills in preparation for becoming a pirate.
"I'll be busy with other matters for a while and won't be coming to the guild as often. Please convey my apologies to Master Griffin."
"Of course, Mr. Roland."
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Roland left the Blacksmith's Guild.
However, instead of heading home to practice his Knight's Breathing Technique as usual, he boarded a small boat and headed straight for the Knight Academy.
If all he needed was to practice Maritime Survival Skills and awaken his abilities, his small fishing boat would have sufficed.
But to become a pirate, mastering the four Maritime Survival Skills wasn't enough. There was also a mandatory requirement:
Successfully plunder five large ships.
His little fishing boat was utterly incapable of achieving this.
Fortunately, Hawk's elder brother, the halfling Trevor, had previously promised to lend him a ship for skill practice.
Since that was the case, Roland saw no reason to be polite.
This would allow him to practice Maritime Survival Skills while familiarizing himself with the operation of a proper ship, laying a solid foundation for the subsequent "plundering" missions.
Having made up his mind, Roland passed through the gate guard's inspection and headed straight for the training grounds.
At this hour, Hoby would usually be there honing his combat skills.
But perhaps because he had arrived slightly early today, the halfling's figure was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, an unusually conspicuous presence occupied the training grounds.
A massive, ferocious-looking figure stood in the training yard.
The man swung a colossal axe, unleashing a relentless barrage of heavy chops against a wooden training post.
The thunderous, ceaseless impacts alone testified to his terrifying strength and astonishing speed.
"Is that the orc?"
Glancing at the distinctive crimson skin, Roland quickly recalled the orc's identity.
It was the same orc he had sparred with during Instructor Reggie's practical combat class.
"I think his name was... Freddy?"
As if sensing Roland's gaze, Freddy abruptly halted his movements.
His pupils, surrounded by an unnaturally wide expanse of white, snapped toward Roland at the edge of the training yard.
For a moment, the silent yard was filled only with the Red-skinned Orc's heavy, bellows-like breathing.
Then, just as Roland began to wonder why Freddy was staring so intently at him,
Freddy lunged forward, his heavy footsteps dragging across the ground as he advanced menacingly.
(End of the Chapter)
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