Knight: from Apprentice to the Almighty

Inside the Blacksmith Shop at dawn, Hawke’s booming voice echoed between the furnaces as usual.

"Alright, today..."

The old Blacksmith crossed his arms, his sharp gaze sweeping over the group of apprentices before him.

When his eyes passed over Roland’s handsome face, he gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod.

"...is the day of your assessment!"

Hawke raised his voice.

"In a little while, Lord Baron Fosling himself will be here to observe the assessment, so I want you all to give it one hundred and twenty percent! Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir!"

Hearing that the Lord was about to arrive, the apprentices, led by Marco, showed expressions mixed with nervousness and excitement.

Although as sons of blacksmiths they already held a higher status among commoners, they were still worlds apart from a noble with a hereditary title.

Unlike the others, however, Roland remained calm, a flicker of curiosity stirring within him instead.

Since transmigrating to this world, he had heard many rumors about Baron Fosling.

It was said the Lord lived a life of extravagance and squandered money wantonly.

However, from Roland’s own observations and the hearsay he’d picked up, while the commoners of Black Water Territory weren’t exactly wealthy, they were far from starving.

’If Baron Fosling were truly as debauched as the rumors claimed, his subjects’ lives should be much harder. They’d never be able to maintain a basic living like this.’

Just as Roland was pondering this, a set of uneven footsteps approached from a distance.

He looked up to see a middle-aged man in a lavish velvet coat walking slowly toward them. The man’s face was pale, with a faint reddish hue.

He was tall but slightly gaunt, and his every move carried the reserved air unique to nobility.

Behind him, two armored Guards bearing sharp weapons followed like shadows. Even more eye-catching was the powerfully built young man walking close by his side.

The middle-aged noble’s indifferent gaze swept over the apprentices, his eyes betraying no emotion until they landed on Hawke. Only then did the corners of his lips curl slightly, revealing a barely perceptible smile.

"Mr. Hawke."

Hearing his name, Hawke immediately stepped forward and bowed.

"Lord Baron, the Blacksmith Hawke greets you. I am at your disposal."

Baron Fosling chuckled, gesturing to support Hawke by his sturdy arm before turning to indicate the young man beside him.

"This is my son, Dalko. I’m sure you’ve met."

The young man straightened his back, his sharp gaze fixed on the crowd.

"The boy insisted on coming to watch the assessment. I trust you don’t mind?"

"It is an honor."

Hawke bowed again, this time to Dalko.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the Baron changed the subject.

"How are the preparations for the apprentice assessment?"

"Everything is ready, my Lord."

"Then..."

The Baron gestured elegantly with his hand.

"Let us begin."

With that, he walked over to a high-backed chair that had been prepared for him and slouched into it lazily, propping his cheek on his palm with his elbow on the armrest, and letting out a careless yawn.

Dalko was a stark contrast to him.

The young noble’s burning gaze scrutinized the apprentices. He would occasionally shake his head or nod, as if silently judging them.

"Listen up, lads!"

Hawke turned back to the apprentices, his booming voice echoing through the Blacksmith Shop.

He waved a large hand toward the neatly arranged anvils.

"Now, return to your workstations, study the blueprints carefully, and complete your forging within the allotted time!"

"The final result of the assessment will depend entirely on the quality of your finished product!"

"Yes, sir!"

The apprentices dared not delay. They immediately rushed to their assigned workstations, scrambling to grab the blueprints and study them.

Roland also walked quickly to his station, his eyes falling on the densely packed annotations and complex diagrams on the blueprint.

’A Two-Handed Sword?’

He raised an eyebrow and instantly activated his [Concentration] Trait.

In an instant, while the other apprentices were still frowning in thought, he had already seared every detail from the blueprint into his mind.

Without the slightest hesitation, Roland turned and walked to the furnace.

Adding charcoal, pulling the bellows, smelting the ore...

His series of actions was as smooth as flowing water, without a single hitch.

By the time the other apprentices had just put down their blueprints, he was already swinging his hammer, beginning to forge.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The crisp sound of metal striking metal broke the silence of the Blacksmith Shop.

"Damn it! How is that guy so fast?"

Noticing Roland’s astonishing speed, the previously confident apprentices’ faces changed abruptly.

"Hmph! He’s probably just given up! Look, he doesn’t even bother to watch where his hammer falls. He must know he can’t pass the assessment and just wants to get it over with and leave!"

After this self-reassurance, the apprentices all got to work.

Soon, a rising and falling chorus of hammering filled the entire Blacksmith Shop.

Roland turned a deaf ear to the surrounding chatter, concentrating fully on swinging his hammer.

In the interval between each strike, he precisely reconstructed the details of the blueprint in his mind.

Compared to a standard single-handed sword, a Two-Handed Sword was far more difficult to forge.

A thicker body, a longer blade, a tapered point designed for both slashing and thrusting, and a crossguard that had to be crafted with precision.

Every detail was an extreme test of one’s temperature control and Forging Skills.

Before he had changed his class to Blacksmith, forging a Two-Handed Sword would have been a significant challenge for Roland.

Even if he had succeeded, it would have been difficult to create a noticeable gap in skill between himself and the other apprentices.

But things were very different now.

Under the effects of [Basic Forging Skill], he could accurately judge the progress of the forging just from the moment his hammer struck the rough ingot.

CLANG!

As the final hammer blow fell, Roland didn’t even look, simply picking up the ingot with his tongs and thrusting it back into the furnace.

With [Heart of the Furnace] active, he didn’t even need to open his eyes to sense the state of the ingot as it heated.

His fluid, seamless process made the onlooking apprentices increasingly anxious.

Meanwhile, Dalko, standing beside Baron Fosling, felt his eyes light up. He couldn’t help but ask Hawke a question.

"Mr. Hawke, that one is..."

He pointed at Roland, who was currently working the bellows.

"What’s his name?"

"His name is Roland."

Although Hawke kept a straight face, the slight upward curve of his lips betrayed his true feelings.

"Why? Is young master Dalko interested in him?"

"Indeed."

Dalko nodded frankly and chuckled.

"Mr. Hawke, you should know that I’m about to enter the Knight Academy to further my training. With my strength..."

He confidently slapped his muscular chest.

"...passing the graduation assessment, obtaining the Knight’s Breathing Technique, and becoming an official Knight won’t be a problem at all. However..."

"As a Knight, one can’t be without a highly skilled Military Blacksmith by his side."

"You’ll have to ask him what he wants."

Hawke seemed to have anticipated this. He mulled it over for a moment before speaking.

"The lad’s talent for forging is no less than my own. After he passes this assessment, I reckon it won’t be long before he gets certified by the Blacksmith Guild."

"Once he becomes an official Blacksmith, whether he stays or goes is no longer up to me."

"I understand."

After hearing Hawke’s evaluation of Roland, the admiration in Dalko’s eyes had transformed into a burning desire by the time he looked at Roland again.

And while the two were talking, Roland had already completed another round of forging and had moved on to the final polishing stage.

After a long while, Roland gently caressed the new Two-Handed Sword in his hands and flicked a finger against the blade.

A faint hum rang out, and a satisfied arc formed on his lips.

He then turned around crisply and raised the chillingly sharp Two-Handed Sword high above his head.

"Mr. Hawke, my work is complete."

His clear voice pierced through the cacophony of hammering, and for a moment, every hammer in the Blacksmith Shop fell silent.

Baron Fosling, who had been dozing in his chair, suddenly sat up straight. A flicker of interest flashed in his narrowed eyes as he began to scrutinize the young man.

"Nonsense!"

Master Hawke’s rebuke thundered like a clap of thunder, yet the end of his voice unconsciously softened.

"Have you forgotten the forging process? Go over it and check it three more times!"

His thick fingers rapped on the wooden table.

"Wait until everyone has finished their work. Then, we will judge them all together."

"Yes, sir!"