Setting Off

Chapter 43: Setting Off (3.5K! Seeking Follow-up Reads!)

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

Roland took a deep breath, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the tabletop as he recounted the bizarre encounter.

As the story unfolded, Bronson's previously casual expression gradually froze.

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

When the last syllable fell, a suffocating silence descended upon the wooden cabin, leaving only the slightly hurried and muffled breaths of the two men.

"Cough."

A moment later, Bronson finally broke the silence with difficulty, his Adam's apple bobbing violently as he swallowed.

His hoarse voice was filled with disbelief.

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

His gaze involuntarily drifted to the scorched hole on the wall.

That was his proud work, left there by a magic missile he had cast just moments ago.

"No need to compare, Mister Bronson."

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

"The fireball that goblin summoned could have pulverized a dozen well-equipped, well-trained warriors. It was far beyond the capabilities of any ordinary cantrip."

"I-I see..."

Bronson's twitching lips forced out an ugly smile.

The elation he had felt moments ago from the success with the spell patterns was now like embers doused by cold water, leaving only a wisp of awkward smoke.

He was silent for a moment, then slowly rose from his chair and began pacing back and forth in the small wooden cabin.

The soles of his boots made dull sounds against the floor, accompanied by his slightly low voice.

"The Blazing Sun Church."

Bronson rubbed the stubble on his chin.

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

"Recent years?"

Roland keenly caught the phrase.

"Indeed."

Bronson stopped pacing and turned to face Roland.

"When I traveled in the Royal Capital, I witnessed countless new sects spring up like wild grass. They dug up the names of forgotten deities from ancient texts and fragments to recruit followers and expand their influence."

His voice gradually deepened.

"Although King Mengen repeatedly issued decrees to curb the spread of these churches, the result..."

He spread his hands in a helpless gesture.

"...was merely to drive their activities underground."

"As for that goblin that could use magic..."

When the topic returned to the red-skinned monster, Bronson's brow furrowed deeply, finally turning into a heavy sigh.

"Regarding monsters using Magic Power..."

"As I said before, their grasp of Magical Essence is as natural as breathing, but..."

The sound of footsteps resumed, this time slower and heavier, and Bronson's voice carried an undisguised confusion:

"How could a goblin cast fire magic of such power? This truly exceeds my scope of knowledge."

"Could it be related to the giant creature's remains they were fighting over?"

Roland asked thoughtfully.

"Flame. Giant creature..."

Bronson massaged his temples, muttering to himself.

After a moment, he slowly raised his head and said uncertainly, "I think I might have a clue, but... with just these two points, it's difficult to make any well-founded deductions."

"I understand."

Roland took a deep breath and slowly nodded.

It seemed his hope of getting a complete answer from the scholar had fallen through.

But it was understandable.

Bronson had only studied at the Tower, after all, and was no prophet.

With that thought, Roland changed the subject.

"So, Mister Bronson, if you encounter a goblin that can cast high-level magic, what should one do?"

"Run!"

Bronson spat out the word decisively.

"To confront such a monster head-on, you either need to master the Knight Breathing Technique and use your extraordinary physique to contend with it, or master a Meditation Technique and cast equivalent spells to fight it. Other than that."

His voice lowered.

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

Hearing this expected answer, Roland let out a soft sigh, then stood up and bowed slightly.

"Then, Mister Bronson, I will take my leave for now. I will come back tonight to assist with your research."

"Mm."

Bronson nodded absentmindedly, his entire body seeming to have been drained of spirit, slumping dejectedly into the wooden chair.

Clearly, the goblin that could only cast high-level magic had dealt a significant blow to the scholar.

Gently closing the wooden door, Roland turned and strode towards the blacksmith shop.

"Adventurer's Guild. Blazing Sun Church."

He murmured softly, his steps unconsciously slowing.

"Both suddenly rose to prominence a few years ago. Between the two... could there be some connection?"

A bold guess gradually took shape in his mind.

"Could the rise of these organizations be related to the resurgence of magic elements?"

But he quickly shook his head, casting aside these thoughts that were temporarily unrelated to him.

Pushing open the creaking wooden door of the blacksmith shop, the familiar heat washed over him.

Roland threw himself into work as usual.

When the last tool was forged, he wiped his hands with a rag covered in coal dust. After the other apprentices had gone to the mess hall, he walked towards Hawk, who was busy at the forging table.

"Master Hawk."

"Oh? It's you, Roland."

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

Sweat trickled down his temples, which were streaked with white, but his eyes revealed a look of satisfaction.

This new apprentice was not only quick-handed but also always took the initiative to take on extra work, which made him fond of him from the bottom of his heart.

"I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

Roland took a deep breath, looked directly at Hawk's face, flushed red by the furnace light, and slowly spoke the words he had carefully considered.

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

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

"Roland, what are you thinking?"

The old blacksmith slammed his rough hand heavily on the anvil.

"With your talent, if you focus on practicing for a few more years, you can pass the Blacksmith Guild's assessment! Why go and fight for scraps with those guys who live by the blade?"

Facing Hawk's questioning, Roland's eyes were exceptionally firm.

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

Although going to the Adventurer's Guild was to fulfill the conditions for transferring to the Warrior profession, this was indeed his heartfelt desire.

"You... sigh."

Hawk let out a long sigh, recalling the village where Roland lived, which had been attacked by kobolds.

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

"You can, but you must complete a month's worth of work in advance."

"No problem!"

A flash of joy flickered in Roland's eyes.

He always held the deepest respect for this master who had taught him everything he knew.

So, if nothing unexpected happened, he really didn't want to fall out with him.

"Thank you, Master Hawk!"

Roland bowed solemnly, then said somewhat awkwardly.

"Master Hawk, actually, I have another humble request."

"Speak!"

Hawk responded gruffly, his thick eyebrows raised slightly.

Roland tugged at the faded linen shirt he was wearing.

"Can you teach me how to make leather armor? I can't possibly go hunting monsters or practice combat skills in what I'm wearing now, can I?"

"You little brat."

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

"Follow me."

Roland was taken aback for a moment, then quickly followed.

As the two walked through the courtyard, gravel crunched under Hawk's heavy boots.

They finally stopped in front of the familiar storeroom.

This was where Hawk had tested Roland's knowledge before.

Pushing open the creaking wooden door, the old blacksmith walked straight to a corner and dragged out a heavy oak chest from a pile of dusty sundries.

"Bang!"

The dull thud of the wooden chest hitting the floor echoed in the storeroom, dust swirling in the beam of light.

When Hawk lifted the lid of the chest, Roland couldn't help but hold his breath.

Thousands of iron rings were neatly stacked inside, each one polished to a mirror shine.

Sunlight slanted in through the high window, dancing on the metal rings and reflecting a cold, sharp light.

"This is..."

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

Hawk's voice suddenly deepened, his rough fingers gently stroking the iron rings.

"What a shame."

His gaze became distant.

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

"Now... it's yours."

Hawk's low voice echoed in the storeroom, startling Roland, who looked up sharply.

Sunlight filtered through the windowpanes, casting dappled shadows on the old blacksmith's wrinkled face.

"Master Hawk..."

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

Each ring was meticulously forged, the joints seamless, truly perfect.

Compared to the crude chainmail worn by the manor guards, it was like comparing heaven and earth.

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

"Stop dawdling!"

Hawk interrupted gruffly, but the softness in his eyes couldn't be hidden.

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

"These worthless scraps of metal will just rust if I leave them around. But let's be clear about the rules."

The old blacksmith suddenly put on a stern face, his rough finger poking Roland's chest.

"I'll give you the materials, but you have to hammer out every single piece of armor yourself! You can use whatever tools are in the workshop. If you don't understand something..."

He paused.

"...come ask me anytime."

"Yes!"

Roland's voice trembled slightly with excitement.

"Useless kid."

As Hawk turned away, Roland clearly saw the curve of a smile on his lips.

The old blacksmith walked towards the door with his hands behind his back, the sunlight stretching his tall figure into a long shadow.

Just as his figure was about to disappear through the doorframe, a thunderous warning boomed out.

"Don't you dare die at the hands of those bastards!"

In the following days, Roland lived an unprecedentedly fulfilling life.

At dawn, he was already standing before the forge in the blacksmith shop, using his increasingly skilled forging techniques to complete Hawk's assigned tasks with astonishing efficiency.

In the afternoon, two experienced veterans introduced by Darko would arrive at the training grounds on time.

They initially had no expectations for the thin young man, until they witnessed Roland's learning ability in the [Focus] state.

It often only took him an afternoon to go from clumsy to fluid with various weapons.

The exchanged glances between the two veterans were filled with disbelief and shock.

And by evening, Roland would head to that secluded wooden cabin.

In the flickering candlelight, he assisted Bronson in drawing intricate spell patterns on parchment while studying ancient texts.

Strangely, every time his gaze swept over those twisted characters, his head would grow heavier, as if some power was quietly consuming his Spirit Power, which also significantly slowed his learning speed.

As for forging the chainmail, it turned out to be the easiest task.

Hawk had already prepared all the materials; Roland just needed to follow the instructions and rivet the cold-glowing iron rings one by one.

Amidst the crisp clanging of metal, armor that fit his body was gradually taking shape.

During his rare leisure time, Roland would also try various new techniques, hoping to awaken new Skills, or even embark on an unprecedented Profession path.

Although his repeated attempts were like stones sinking into the sea, and his Profession Panel remained silent, Roland did not give up.

Through repeated exploration, he finally awakened several new Skills.

Just like that, half a month quietly passed.

Roland also made preparations to head to Pine Wood Town to accept bounties and hunt monsters.