Brawl (4K! Please Follow!)

After an unknown amount of time, with the assessment deadline approaching, the other apprentices gradually finished their pieces.

One greatsword after another, all similar in appearance, was neatly arranged on the anvils before them, their blades flashing with a chilling gleam beneath the sunlight.

"Cough, cough, cough."

Hawk coughed lightly and stepped forward, inspecting the greatswords forged by the youths one by one.

Before long, however, the old blacksmith's brows drew tighter and tighter, while his face visibly flushed red.

Perhaps because Baron Foslin was present, he did not berate them angrily as he usually would. Instead, he announced the results repeatedly in a low voice.

"The ore was fired too long. Failed."

"Insufficient force during forging. Failed."

"This sword doesn't meet the requirements on the blueprint. Failed!"

Hawk's breathing grew heavier, and his footsteps increasingly dragged.

Before long, he arrived in front of Marco.

This blacksmith's son had not been affected by Roland's smooth forging technique just now. Instead, he straightened his back and met Hawk's scrutiny with a steady gaze.

"Hmm."

Hawk picked up the greatsword Marco had forged with one hand and raised it before his eyes, studying it carefully in silence for a long while.

Seeing this, Marco was immediately filled with confidence.

Hawk had usually needed only two or three glances to reach a conclusion when inspecting the other apprentices' work.

After a while, the old blacksmith slowly lowered the greatsword in his hand and nodded slightly.

"Not bad. You handled the force, rhythm, and striking points of the forging well. Only the firing temperature of the ore was slightly lacking, but..."

He paused.

"I'll count you as passing."

"Thank you, Mister Hawk!"

Marco excitedly bowed, and when he straightened, his gaze involuntarily swept toward Roland. His eyes were filled with contempt and provocation.

In his view, during the past month Roland had spent every day holding a strange dagger and using a file to carve inexplicable patterns into it. He had hardly practiced proper forging at all.

What good was having high talent?

Without day-after-day tempering, his skills would only regress.

How could the current Roland possibly compare to him?

As for Roland's astonishing forging speed earlier, he regarded it as nothing more than a performance meant to show off.

After all, forging equipment was usually a slow and meticulous process. Moving too quickly could instead affect the quality of the finished product.

Thinking of this, Marco turned and glanced at the youths who had failed the assessment, letting out a cold snort through his nose.

His already straight back stiffened further, and he raised his chin high, looking just like a male lion flaunting its victory.

Yet in the next moment, the pride in Marco's eyes suddenly froze, replaced by utter disbelief.

Hawk had walked slowly to Roland's anvil. He merely tapped the blade twice with his finger before abruptly raising his head, his eyes flashing with delight as he shouted.

"Perfect! Passed!"

"I hereby announce that Roland has won this assessment!"

As his voice fell, a rare smile appeared on Hawk's usually stern face.

He reached out and patted Roland on the shoulder, speaking in a gentle yet authoritative tone.

"Boy, now that you're under me, don't even think about slacking off. Work hard, understand?"

"Yes!"

Although Roland had already anticipated this result after changing professions to become a blacksmith, he still found it difficult to suppress his excitement.

Becoming a noble's direct blacksmith apprentice meant that he would not only receive a stable salary each month, but his social status would also rise significantly.

More importantly, this gave him the opportunity to continue improving his forging skills and constantly raise the level of Basic Forging Technique.

It truly accomplished several things at once!

But at that moment, a voice twisted by anger suddenly rang out.

"Mister Hawk, this..."

Marco clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, while his entire body trembled with agitation.

He even forgot that Baron Foslin was present and shouted directly at Hawk.

"This is unfair!"

"How could his forging skills possibly be better than mine? He's just a commoner! My father, however, is—"

Looking at Marco, who was nearly hysterical, Hawk did not become angry. Instead, a trace of regret appeared in his eyes.

To be fair, Marco's forging skills were indeed excellent.

If Roland, this unprecedented genius, had not appeared, the apprentice position should have belonged to him without question.

But Hawk would not show mercy because of that.

Even though he had a good relationship with Marco's father, he could still distinguish public matters from private ones.

"Shut up, you idiot!"

After shouting angrily, Hawk immediately turned and bowed apologetically to Baron Foslin.

He then snatched up two greatswords and suddenly exerted force with both arms.

"Clang!"

Amid a crisp metallic impact, the two heavy blades smashed into each other.

Under the sunlight, tiny iron fragments drifted down.

Everyone looked closely.

The greatsword Roland had forged still gleamed with a chilling light, bearing only a few shallow scratches along its edge.

A glaring notch, however, had appeared in Marco's blade.

Actions spoke louder than words. The difference in quality was obvious.

"This... this is impossible..."

Marco staggered back two steps. The color rapidly drained from his face, leaving it deathly pale.

During the forging just now, he had clearly performed beyond his normal ability.

It should have been his finest masterpiece to date.

Yet the result before him struck like a heavy hammer, smashing his proud self-esteem to pieces.

He instinctively looked toward Roland. Although Roland was not even looking at him, Marco seemed to see silent mockery in his eyes.

The poisonous flames of jealousy churned in the sixteen-year-old boy's chest, nearly burning away his reason.

His fingers spasmodically tightened around the hammer beside the anvil, but he suddenly came to his senses when he caught sight of the fully armed guards beside Baron Foslin.

Marco inhaled deeply. In the end, he merely lowered his head darkly, forcing the surging anger beneath a layer of silence.

"Well then."

Seeing that Marco remained silent, Hawk lightly patted his shoulder in consolation before turning to announce to the other apprentices.

"Those who failed the assessment are to pack their belongings and leave the estate before nightfall. Understood?"

"Yes."

The youths answered dejectedly and gradually lowered their heads as they left the blacksmith shop.

At this moment, Baron Foslin also rose from his high-backed chair and slowly came to stand beside Hawk.

"Mister Hawk, now that the assessment is over, I'll take my leave first."

"You're too polite, Baron."

Hawk was about to bow, but the Baron lightly supported his arm.

The nobleman then turned to Roland and nodded approvingly.

"Excellent work, young man."

"Thank you for your praise, Baron."

By the time Roland bowed, the Baron had already turned and walked away.

Seeing this, Darko smiled and waved at Roland before quickly following in his father's footsteps.

"Why is this fellow being so friendly to me?"

While Roland was pondering this, Hawk had already walked over to him.

The old blacksmith was clearly in a good mood, and even his grizzled beard rose with the corners of his mouth.

"Good lad! I knew I hadn't misjudged you! Go back to the dormitory later and pack your belongings, then report to the blacksmith shop east of the estate. Understand?"

"Yes, Mister Hawk!"

"Heh heh heh."

Hawk lightly punched Roland in the chest, then clasped his hands behind his back and hummed a tune as he leisurely walked away.

In the blink of an eye, the once-noisy assessment grounds were left with only Roland, and silence suddenly descended around him.

At last, Roland could no longer suppress his excitement and clenched his fists tightly.

"An ordinary person needs at least a year of learning forging skills just to become a blacksmith apprentice. With the help of the Profession Panel, I achieved this goal in only three months, and my forging skills are even more refined than those of ordinary apprentices!"

"Give me a little more time, and my skills will reach the level of a formal blacksmith. As long as I join the Blacksmith Guild and obtain formal blacksmith qualifications, I'll have more or less established myself in this otherworld. But..."

Roland let out a long breath, calming his turbulent emotions.

Recalling his conversation with Bronson yesterday, he could not help but shake his head lightly.

"Even after becoming a blacksmith apprentice, I absolutely can't let my guard down."

"While continuing to improve my forging skills, I also need to find a way to learn new combat skills. If I get the chance, I should try other things as well and see whether I can awaken new skills and professions."

Thinking of this, Roland suddenly felt that his future was bright.

He then started walking and quickly left the assessment grounds.

After arriving at the dormitory, Roland quickly packed his luggage and turned to push open the dormitory door.

When he looked up, however, he discovered more than a dozen tall youths standing in the open space outside.

"Are they the people who took part in the assessment just now? Could they be here to cause trouble? Those blacksmiths' sons shouldn't be this stupid. No..."

He narrowed his eyes and carefully studied their faces, discovering that they were all commoner youths who, like him, had failed the Knowledge Test on their first attempt and only barely passed before the deadline.

"Looks like someone stirred them up from behind the scenes."

Roland immediately understood what had happened.

He clearly remembered that when he had first arrived at the estate, Hawk had established many prohibitions. One of them was particularly severe.

Anyone who engaged in a private brawl would be expelled from the estate immediately.

"Someone set a trap and is waiting for me to jump into it."

At this thought, Marco's jealousy-twisted face immediately surfaced in Roland's mind.

"How childish."

If this had happened before, Roland would indeed have been helpless in such a situation.

At that time, he lacked the strength to resist and had to obey the prohibitions.

Even if he won the fight, all that awaited him would be expulsion.

And these youths surrounding him?

They had to leave the estate after failing the assessment anyway. Whether they could beat him was completely irrelevant to them.

But things were different now.

He had officially become a blacksmith apprentice under Baron Foslin's witness.

This meant that as long as he did not commit a grave offense, Hawk would never expel him from the estate.

In other words, he and these youths were no longer being judged by the same standards.

Moreover, he clearly remembered that some of them had bullied him relentlessly when he had first crossed over.

At this thought, a cold smile lifted the corners of Roland's mouth. He calmly raised his head and swept his gaze over the crowd.

"Everyone. Are you here for me?"

Before Roland had finished speaking, the burly youth at the front stepped forward with a vicious grin.

"You think winning the assessment by playing tricks makes you something special?"

He rolled his thick wrist, his knuckles cracking.

"Today, we'll teach you what the rules are."

The atmosphere in the open space suddenly grew tense.

Roland noticed that the youths were positioned with considerable discipline. Clearly, this had been planned in advance.

Three blocked the escape route, five sealed off both sides, and the remaining seven or eight advanced from the front.

After exchanging glances, the youth at the front suddenly threw a punch, the force of it stirring the loose hair above Roland's forehead.

"Bang!"

After the dull impact, everyone stared in shock as they discovered that Roland had caught the heavy punch with one hand.

His five fingers clamped around the other boy's wrist like iron pincers. Under the burly youth's terrified gaze, he gave it a light twist.

"Crack!"

A crisp sound of dislocated bones rang out alongside a scream.

Roland followed through by raising his leg and driving his knee heavily into the other boy's abdomen. He kicked the at-least-eighty-kilogram body away like a torn sack, sending it crashing into three or four people behind him.

"How could this guy possibly..."

Seeing this, disbelief appeared in the eyes of the remaining youths.

They clearly remembered how weak Roland had been before.

If not for the protection of that big fool Sean, Roland would probably have left the estate on his own under their bullying before the assessment even ended.

Hearing their companion's pained groans, fear appeared on the youths' faces in unison.

But after thinking of the coins Marco had promised them, they ultimately stopped themselves from retreating.

"Everyone, attack!"

Someone shouted from within the crowd.

More than a dozen youths charged forward at once.

Roland's eyes flashed, and his Strength attribute of 6.5 was displayed to its fullest at that moment.

He took half a step back to avoid the first fist that came at him, then chopped his right palm into the side of the nearest boy's neck.

The boy collapsed limply without even a grunt.

A gust of wind struck from the left. Roland ducked beneath the sweeping wooden club and drove an elbow into the ambusher's ribs.

Amid the clear sound of cracking bones, the man toppled over, spraying blood and foam.

Seizing the club as it fell from the man's hand, Roland spun and swept it across, sending the three figures charging at him flying at once.

In less than a minute, the open ground was filled with sprawled figures groaning in pain.

The only boy still standing had trembling legs, and the front of his trousers was already soaked.

When Roland slowly approached, the terrified boy rolled his eyes back and fainted on the spot.

"Damn it! A bunch of useless yokels!"

Marco clenched the limp money pouch in his hand, hiding in the shadows as he gnashed his teeth and cursed under his breath.

"Those damn guards, too. They always patrol around here at this hour. Why did they have to be absent today?"

Just then, a dull series of footsteps suddenly sounded nearby.

Marco followed the noise and saw several fully armed regular soldiers walking toward them.

"What are you doing here?"

Marco's eyes lit up. He hurried out of the woods, waving his arms and shouting.

"Sir! Sir! They're fighting in a group over here!"

"What?"

Seeing the lead regular soldier frown and walk toward Roland, Marco secretly rejoiced.

But in the next second, the smile on his face froze.

Because he discovered that Roland was not the slightest bit flustered. Instead, after seeing the soldier's face clearly, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

He was clearly in a good mood.

Thanks for all your support, my dear patrons! Here's a 4,000-word chapter for you!

Thanks to "No Idea What I'm Thinking" for the two monthly votes!

Thanks to Guyue Mozhai for the one monthly vote!

Thanks to my two dear patrons for your support. May everything go smoothly for you, and may fortune and prosperity be yours!

P.S. Please follow and collect the novel! Xiao Lu humbly thanks all my dear patrons!