Setting Out (35K! Please Follow!)

"When Darko and I went deep into the forest to hunt."

Roland took a deep breath. His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the tabletop as he slowly recounted the bizarre encounter.

As the story progressed, Mister Bronson's initially careless expression gradually stiffened.

The eccentric scholar's eyes widened, and both hands clenched the corners of his clothes.

When the final syllable fell, suffocating silence filled the wooden hut. Only their slightly hurried, muffled breathing remained.

"Cough."

After a moment, Mister Bronson finally managed to break the silence, his Adam's apple bobbing violently as he swallowed.

His hoarse voice was filled with disbelief.

"You're saying a goblin cast Flame magic?"

His gaze involuntarily drifted toward the charred hole in the wall.

That was his proud creation, left behind by the Flame Arrow he had cast with a trick.

"No need to compare them, Mister Bronson."

Roland gently shook his head, his fingertips tapping the tabletop with a dull sound.

"The fireball that goblin summoned was powerful enough to blast more than a dozen well-equipped, well-trained warriors to pieces. It was absolutely beyond what an ordinary trick could achieve."

"I-I see."

The corner of Bronson's twitching mouth pulled into an ugly smile.

The wild joy he had felt after making progress with the Magic Runes was now like embers doused with cold water, leaving behind only an awkward wisp of blue smoke.

He fell silent for a moment, then slowly rose from his chair and began pacing back and forth inside the cramped wooden hut.

The soles of his boots scraped against the floor with a dull sound, accompanied by his somewhat low voice.

"The Blazing Sun Church."

Bronson rubbed the stubble on his chin.

"I don't know much about them, but I imagine they're one of the many sects that have risen in recent years."

"Recent years?"

Roland keenly caught the wording.

"That's right."

Bronson stopped and turned to face Roland.

"While traveling in the Royal Capital, I personally witnessed countless new sects sprouting like weeds. They dug up the names of long-forgotten gods from fragments of ancient books, then used them to recruit believers and expand their influence."

His voice gradually lowered.

"Although King Mengen issued bans several times in an attempt to curb the spread of these churches, the result..."

He spread his hands and made a helpless gesture.

"Was merely to drive their activities underground."

"As for that goblin capable of using magic..."

When the topic returned to the crimson-skinned monster, Bronson's brows furrowed deeply, eventually turning into a heavy sigh.

"As for monsters wielding Magical Essence..."

"Just as I said before, their mastery of Magical Essence truly comes as naturally as breathing. However..."

His footsteps sounded again, slower and heavier this time, while his voice carried unconcealed confusion.

"How could a goblin cast Flame magic with such power? This is truly beyond the limits of my understanding."

"Could it be related to the remains of that giant creature they were fighting over?"

Roland asked thoughtfully.

"Flame... giant creature..."

Bronson massaged his temples, muttering to himself.

Only after a moment did he slowly raise his head and speak uncertainly.

"I think I may have some clues, but... based on these two points alone, it's difficult to make any well-founded deduction."

"I understand."

Roland took a deep breath and slowly nodded.

It seemed his hopes of obtaining a complete answer from the scholar had fallen through.

But that was understandable.

Bronson had only studied at a high tower, after all. He was no prophet.

Thinking of this, Roland changed the subject.

"Then, Mister Bronson, if I encountered a goblin capable of casting high-tier magic, how should I deal with it?"

"Run!"

Bronson spat out the word without hesitation.

"If you want to confront such a monster head-on, you must either master the Knight Breathing Technique and maneuver around it with a transcendent physique, or master the Meditation Technique and cast equivalent spells to fight it. Other than that..."

His voice dropped lower.

"Besides running, I can't think of any way to survive."

After hearing the expected answer, Roland sighed softly, then rose and bowed slightly.

"Then, Mister Bronson, I'll take my leave for now. I'll return tonight to assist with your research."

"Mm."

Bronson merely nodded absentmindedly. It was as though all the energy had been drained from him, leaving him slumped in the wooden chair.

Clearly, that goblin capable of using high-tier magic had dealt quite a blow to the scholar.

After gently closing the wooden door, Roland turned and strode toward the Blacksmith shop.

"Adventurer's Guild... Blazing Sun Church..."

He muttered under his breath, unconsciously slowing his steps.

"They both rose suddenly a few years ago. Could there be... some connection between them?"

A bold guess gradually took shape in his mind.

"Could the rise of these organizations be related to the revival of Magical Essence?"

But soon, he shook his head and pushed these thoughts, which had nothing to do with him for now, to the back of his mind.

He pushed open the creaking wooden door of the Blacksmith shop, and the familiar wave of heat washed over him.

Roland threw himself into work as usual.

After forging the final tool, he wiped his hands with a soot-covered rag. Only after the other apprentices had gone to the dining hall did he walk toward Hawk, who was busy at the forge.

"Master Hawk."

"Oh? It's you, Roland."

Hawk set down the iron hammer in his hand and looked up at the young apprentice.

Sweat slid down from his graying temples, but his eyes held a satisfied gleam.

This newly accepted apprentice was not only quick and capable, but also always volunteered to take on extra work. Hawk genuinely liked him.

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Roland took a deep breath, looked straight at Hawk's face glowing red from the furnace fire, and slowly voiced the words he had carefully considered for a long time.

"What? You want to take a month off? To accept bounties from the Adventurer's Guild? To practice combat skills?"

After hearing Roland's request, Hawk's thick eyebrows nearly stood on end as he scolded him in a low voice.

"Roland, what are you thinking?"

The old Blacksmith slammed his rough hand heavily onto the anvil.

"With your talent, you could pass the Blacksmith Guild's examination after focusing on practice for a few more years! Why go compete for scraps with those fellows who live by the blade?"

Faced with Hawk's questioning, Roland's gaze remained exceptionally firm.

"Master Hawk, I just... don't want to be completely powerless when facing monsters."

Although he was going to the Adventurer's Guild to fulfill the conditions for changing to the Warrior class, these were also his heartfelt words.

"You... sigh."

Hawk let out a long sigh, remembering the kobold-attacked village where Roland lived.

Looking at the young man's stubborn expression, he finally relaxed his grip on the iron hammer.

"Fine, but you must complete one month's worth of work ahead of time."

"No problem!"

Joy flashed through Roland's eyes.

Toward this old master who had taught him everything he knew, he always held the deepest respect.

So, if nothing unexpected happened, he truly did not want to sour their relationship.

"Thank you, Master Hawk!"

Roland bowed solemnly, then said somewhat awkwardly,

"Master Hawk, actually, I have another small favor to ask."

"Speak!"

Hawk responded gruffly, his thick brows lifting slightly.

Roland tugged at the linen shirt that had been washed pale.

"Could you... teach me how to make leather armor? You see... I can't exactly go subjugate monsters and practice combat skills dressed like this, can I?"

"You little brat..."

Hawk rolled his eyes in exasperation, then suddenly turned and strode outside.

"Come with me."

Roland froze for a moment, then quickly followed.

As the two crossed the courtyard, the gravel made faint crunching sounds beneath Hawk's heavy boots.

They finally stopped in front of the familiar storeroom.

This was where Hawk had tested Roland's knowledge in the past.

After pushing open the creaking wooden door, the old Blacksmith went straight to the corner and dragged a heavy oak chest out from a pile of dust-covered odds and ends.

"Bang!"

The dull impact of the chest hitting the floor echoed through the storeroom, sending dust swirling through the beams of light.

When Hawk lifted the lid, Roland couldn't help holding his breath.

Inside were thousands upon thousands of neatly arranged iron rings, each one polished to a brilliant shine.

Sunlight slanted through the high window, dancing across the metal rings and reflecting a cold gleam.

"What is this...?"

"A suit of chainmail commissioned by an old friend."

Hawk's voice suddenly lowered, his rough fingers gently brushing over the iron rings.

"Unfortunately..."

His gaze grew distant.

"Before I could finish forging it, that old bastard died at the hands of monsters..."

"Now, it's yours."

Hawk's low voice echoed through the storeroom, startling Roland into abruptly raising his head.

Sunlight passed through the window lattice, casting mottled shadows across the old Blacksmith's wrinkled face.

"This... Master Hawk..."

Roland swallowed, his fingertips unconsciously brushing over the cold iron rings.

Every ring had been carefully forged, its joint fitting perfectly tight. They were nearly flawless.

Compared with the crude chainmail worn by the manor guards, the difference was like heaven and earth.

Even just these iron rings alone would probably be worth more than a dozen silver coins on the market!

"Stop acting like a blubbering woman!"

Hawk interrupted him gruffly, though he couldn't conceal the gentleness in his eyes.

He deliberately slapped Roland hard on the back, making the young man stagger.

"These scraps of metal would only rust if left sitting around. But let me make one thing clear first..."

The old Blacksmith suddenly put on a stern expression and poked Roland in the chest with a rough finger.

"I'll give you the materials, but you have to hammer out every plate yourself! You can use anything in the workshop. If there's anything you don't understand..."

He paused.

"...come ask me anytime."

"Yes!"

Roland's voice trembled slightly with excitement.

"What a hopeless brat."

As Hawk turned around, Roland clearly saw the curve of his raised lips.

The old Blacksmith walked toward the door with his hands behind his back, the sunlight stretching his upright silhouette long across the floor.

Just as his figure was about to disappear through the doorframe, a rumble like thunder suddenly exploded.

"Don't you dare die to those bastards!"

In the days that followed, Roland lived a fuller life than ever before.

At dawn, he was already standing before the furnace in the Blacksmith shop. Using his increasingly refined forging skills, he completed the tasks Hawk assigned with astonishing efficiency.

In the afternoon, the two experienced veterans recommended by Darko appeared at the Training Ground on time.

At first, they had held little hope for the lean young man—until they saw the learning ability Roland displayed while in the [Focus] state.

The various weapons in his hands went from clumsy to fluid, often in the span of a single afternoon.

The looks the two veterans exchanged were filled with utterly incredulous shock.

By evening, Roland would hurry to that secluded wooden hut.

Amid the flickering candlelight, he assisted Bronson in drawing complicated Magic Runes on parchment while studying those ancient texts.

Strangely, whenever his gaze swept over those distorted characters, he would feel increasingly drowsy, as though some force were quietly draining his Spirit Power. This also slowed his learning considerably.

As for forging the chainmail, it had instead become the easiest task.

Hawk had prepared all the materials long ago. Roland only needed to follow the instructions and rivet the cold-glinting iron rings together one by one.

Amid the crisp clinking of colliding metal, a piece of armor fitted to his build gradually took shape.

During his rare moments of leisure, Roland would also try out various new techniques, hoping to awaken entirely new skills or even unlock unprecedented career paths.

Although his attempts sank without a trace time and again and the Profession Panel remained utterly silent, Roland still did not give up.

After repeated experimentation, he finally awakened several brand-new skills.

And just like that, half a month passed unnoticed.

Roland had also made his preparations

to head to Pine Wood Town, accept a bounty, and hunt down monsters.