Knight: from Apprentice to the Almighty

’Finally, full level...’

After a long sigh of relief, Roland thought to himself and opened his Attribute Panel.

[Name: Roland]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 16]

[Profession: Blacksmith Apprentice]

[Power: 2.1]

[Agility: 1.4]

[Spirit: 1.2]

[Skills: Level Max Ore Burning, Level Max Bellows, Level Max Forging]

’My Power and Agility both went up by 0.1? Looks like I can raise my Attributes through daily activities, but the progress is incredibly slow...’

After glancing over the numbers next to his Attributes, Roland focused his gaze on the Skills section.

’My Forging Skill is at Full Level, but it didn’t trigger a profession change prompt?’

Roland’s brow slowly furrowed as he thought back on his days spent honing his craft in the Blacksmith Shop.

’The Tempering and Quenching processes are included in the Ore Burning and Forging skills. Other than that... I don’t think I’ve missed any other skills I could have triggered.’

’Could it be that I need to do something else besides mastering the skills to trigger the profession change? Whatever...’

Unable to make sense of it, Roland put the thought aside for now and decided not to dwell on it.

’The Father of Heaven’s birthday celebration is in half a month. I should focus on forging weapons for now.’

With that thought, he picked up another heavy metal ingot and walked over to an anvil in a remote corner.

He glanced around, and once certain that no one was watching, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and mentally reviewed the entire forging process.

A moment later, confident that he hadn’t missed a single step, he began.

Working the Bellows, Ore Burning, Forging, Quenching, Tempering, polishing...

After days of practice, these techniques had become second nature to him.

Aided by his [Modest Apprentice] Trait, his wealth of accumulated experience now manifested, making the forging process go exceptionally smoothly.

Five days later, a weary smile touched Roland’s lips as he looked at the brand-new Iron Sword in his hand.

’It usually takes an ordinary person years to go from honing their skills to forging a finished weapon on their own.’

’But with the help of my Professional Panel, it only took me a few months to successfully forge a finished weapon! It’s just...’

Roland swung the Iron Sword, testing its weight and balance, but his initial joy slowly faded.

’The quality of this Iron Sword is far from excellent. Compared to Mr. Hawke’s standards, it’s barely passable at best...’

’With my Forging Skills at this level, I can’t be one hundred percent certain I’ll pass the assessment.’

’But right now, aside from just forging more weapons to gain experience, there doesn’t seem to be any other way for me to improve...’

Having worked under Hawke for some time, Roland had come to understand his personality.

Stubborn and uncompromising.

On the surface, the old Blacksmith seemed to take good care of him, and they got along well.

But Roland knew that if he failed to meet the standards during the assessment, Hawke wouldn’t hesitate to throw him out of the manor.

After all, the old master already had several skilled apprentices. One more or one less made no difference.

As Roland was lost in thought, a line of golden text suddenly flashed before his eyes.

[Detected: Host has successfully forged an Iron Sword of acceptable quality. The Upper-tier Profession, Blacksmith, is now available.]

[Requirements: 4 Power, 2 Agility, three Full Level forging-related skills, forge 1/10 weapons of acceptable quality.]

[Host does not meet the requirements.]

"It actually triggered the profession change prompt!"

Roland’s heart pounded with excitement as he read the text, but his brow furrowed when he saw the requirements.

’Forging ten weapons is doable, but four Power and two Agility... that’s so much higher than my current Attributes...’

’It would probably take months to get there through daily activities alone. The only way to raise my Attributes quickly is by changing my profession...’

’But... even though I don’t know what Traits I’ll get for advancing to Blacksmith, they’re sure to be related to forging. If I can just manage to advance, I’ll definitely be able to pass the assessment in two months!’

At this thought, Roland’s spirits lifted. After a brief rest, he picked up another metal ingot.

There was still more than half a month before the Father of Heaven’s birthday, and Roland had no intention of wasting that time.

Since Hawke had given him permission to use the metal ingots freely, he wasn’t about to hold back.

Besides, these ores had all been procured by Baron Fosling’s men. He didn’t feel the slightest pang of guilt about using the nobleman’s money.

’And this way, I can also fulfill the weapon forging requirement to become a Blacksmith...’

With that thought, Roland began to swing his hammer once more.

Time flew by in the blink of an eye.

Before the day of the celebration arrived, the young apprentices were all ushered out of the manor.

"Halt! What’s that you’re carrying?"

"It’s on Mr. Hawke’s orders..."

Roland finished his explanation to the Guard at the manor gate. Watching the man’s expression shift from stern to respectful, he was once again struck by how much clout Blacksmiths had in this age.

But Sean, who was beside him, paid no mind to their conversation.

The moment the Guard nodded them through, he grabbed Roland’s arm and bolted through the gate.

"Did you hear what Mr. Hawke just said?"

Sean waved his arms dramatically.

"When we get back, we have to take some damn literacy test! And anyone who fails has to start over!"

He let out a long, theatrical sigh.

"Good thing I’ve already decided to join the army, pal. You know me, I’ve hated all those squiggly letters ever since I was a kid!"

Roland stumbled as he was pulled along.

"But if you’re really going to be an apprentice, you need to be literate for everything... reading blueprints, signing contracts, keeping accounts..."

His voice trailed off as he spoke.

The previous owner of his body had attended a Church-sponsored school as a child, where he’d managed to learn the basics of reading, writing, and speaking common phrases.

But such rudimentary literacy was clearly not enough to meet the requirements.

Roland had no idea how to solve this problem.

In the Golden Valley Kingdom, if a commoner wanted to learn to read, their only options were to pay a hefty sum to hire a tutor or to join the Church and learn prayers from the priests.

For him, neither path was viable at the moment.

"And another thing..."

Sean, completely oblivious to his friend’s worries, took the large bundle from Roland’s hands and continued to chatter away.

"The Lord Baron’s feast usually lasts for at least seven days. Why is it only three days this year? It’s cutting our holiday short..."

"He’s out of money, obviously."

Roland replied sullenly, his mood heavy.

Baron Fosling’s penchant for extravagance and reckless spending was infamous throughout the Black Water Territory.

The only thing that could possibly make the noble lord shorten his festivities was a tight purse.

’It seems the Demon infestation in the Black Pine Forest is even more severe than I thought...’

Roland shook his head, pushing those irrelevant thoughts aside for now and continuing down a shaded, secluded path.

As he passed through the last of the shadows, the view before him suddenly opened up.

This was the first time he had set foot outside the noble’s manor since his transmigration.

With a mix of curiosity and apprehension, Roland began to carefully take in the sight of the village before him.

Perhaps because of the approaching celebration, the entire village was exceptionally bustling.

Villagers had tied colorful strips of linen beneath the oak eaves, which fluttered in the wind like the Magic Waterfalls from storybooks.

Three Minstrels in feathered caps were huddled under a tavern sign, tuning their Lutes. The sound of the strings mingled with the rich aroma of roast goose wafting across the street.

In the church square, a traveling troupe had erected a colorful tent decorated with bells. A performer in a crow-feather mask was conjuring silver sparks from his fingertips, drawing gasps of wonder from a group of girls in flower crowns.

’It’s so lively...’

Roland’s gaze swept across the laughter-filled street as he tried to identify the surrounding buildings.

’That’s the tavern, next to it is an inn, and the one by the river... that must be the mill...’

His gaze traveled past the slowly turning windmill atop the mill, extending further to land on a large, bustling shop overflowing with people.

’That must be the Blacksmith Shop Marco’s father owns. Business is really booming...’

The familiar sights activated more of the original owner’s memories, giving Roland a surreal, dreamlike feeling.

"Hey! Pal!"

Just then, Sean’s shout broke through his jumbled thoughts.

He turned to see his burly best friend holding up the object wrapped in thick layers of burlap, asking in a gruff voice.

"What in the world is this thing? It’s pretty heavy!"

"I’ll tell you when we get to your house."

The bundle contained the items Roland had forged with his own hands.

To avoid drawing attention, he had always worked alone in the most remote corner of the Blacksmith Shop, carefully crafting these pieces in secret.

He hadn’t revealed a thing, not even to Sean, his closest friend.

Even though Hawke had implied he could use the metal ingots, Roland knew that the fewer people who were aware of it, the better.

He didn’t want to invite unnecessary trouble through a moment of carelessness.

Sean didn’t seem to mind Roland’s secrecy, merely muttering a few words to himself.

After struggling through the crowd, the two of them arrived in front of a house.

Just as they were about to push the door open, the sound of a heated argument erupted from within.

"Peyton, I swear, this is the last time! Just lend me a little more money, and when the time comes..."

"Dream on, Sam! Have you forgotten what happened to Reuben? People like us can’t get involved with that stuff! Besides, what you have is just a fragment!"

"Damn it! Stop bringing up that idiot Reuben, Peyton! I’m not like him!" 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

"What’s the difference? You’re both..."