Master Bentham

The Blacksmith Shop was not inside the castle, but near the iron mine. Knight Marshall and Abel rode there in a carriage, arriving after twenty minutes.

Even from a distance, they could hear hammers striking iron. Following the sound, Abel saw a neat row of stone houses built from massive boulders. Each had a huge chimney on its roof, and at that moment, black smoke rose from four of the six chimneys.

Seeing those stone houses, Abel could tell how much Knight Marshall valued the Blacksmith Shop. The boulders were the same ones used for the castle, all hauled from distant mountains. Setting aside their value, the transportation costs alone had been enormous.

"Master Bentham here was someone I invited from Harvest City. You must show him respect when you meet him. His craftsmanship is the best in Harvest City. If his son had not grown up and he had not wanted to hand his shop in the city over to him, I would never have been able to bring Master Bentham here," Knight Marshall carefully instructed Abel.

"Marshall, welcome."

Master Bentham had come out to greet them as soon as he saw the lord's carriage. He was over fifty, two meters tall, powerfully built, and covered in a thick beard. He merely dipped his head, considering that sufficient greeting.

Knight Marshall did not mind the lack of ceremony. He returned the gesture and said with a smile, "I brought a young man today to become your apprentice."

Master Bentham's gaze shifted to Abel. He hesitated before asking, "You mean this child? Marshall, don't think I don't know the difference between a young man and a child. This little fellow is just a child, no more than fourteen at most. Training here requires sturdy apprentices, not underage children."

Because Master Bentham had come out to greet them, many people nearby had gathered around.

"Master Bentham, this is my adopted son, Abel. He is a Rookie Knight and needs to learn forging from you to improve his control over his strength."

"It is a good idea, but no. I will not take him in." Master Bentham said seriously, "For a young nobleman, forging is extremely grueling work. And I do not believe a Rookie Knight this young has the strength to swing a hammer."

"Master Bentham, I can endure hardship, and I am very strong." Abel stretched out an arm and struck a muscular pose.

"Haha!"

Before Master Bentham, who stood two meters tall and was built like a bear, Abel's height of only 1.6 meters made his pose seem especially ridiculous. The onlookers all burst into laughter.

"Abel, wait another two years. When you are fifteen, taller, and stronger, if you still want to learn forging, I will teach you." Since Abel was Knight Marshall's adopted son, Master Bentham patiently made him that promise.

"How strong do I need to be to meet your requirements?" Abel pressed.

Seeing the stubborn look on Abel's face, Master Bentham said, "Come with me."

Knight Marshall led Abel after Master Bentham toward the yard behind the stone houses.

The crowd of onlookers surged toward the back yard as well.

"How many do you think the kid can lift?"

"It would be impressive if he could lift even one."

"He's a Rookie Knight. I say he can lift the second one."

"I bet he can lift one."

"I bet he can lift two."

The crowd discussed the matter noisily.

Neither Knight Marshall nor Abel paid any attention to the chatter. Following Master Bentham into the back yard, they saw a row of iron objects arranged from smallest to largest along one side. Each had large ends and an iron bar running through the middle.

The longer Abel looked, the more familiar they seemed. They were basically barbells, only far cruder than the ones he knew. Even with different cultural backgrounds, people's understanding of how to make better use of strength was still roughly the same.

"These Iron Locks are what I made for apprentices to train their strength. They range from small to large. The smallest weighs fifty pounds, and the largest weighs four hundred. Each one increases by fifty pounds from left to right." Master Bentham pointed at the devices on the ground called Iron Locks.

"Gaden, come here." Master Bentham pointed at a big man in the crowd who was almost as burly as he was.

"Master, I-I-I wasn't slacking off. I just finished dumping the furnace slag." Gaden stammered out an explanation, his dark face covered in sweat from nervousness.

The onlookers laughed. Everyone knew Gaden. He was the new apprentice Master Bentham had taken in after arriving at the castle. Because Gaden was diligent and hardworking, Master Bentham had already accepted him as a disciple.

There was a great difference between an apprentice and a disciple. Apprentices often had to do a great deal of menial labor. At the Blacksmith Shop, for instance, huge amounts of wood had to be burned every day, and chopping that wood into pieces was the apprentice's job. There was no pay for such work.

Disciples were different. They had priority in learning their master's craft, and each month they received wages that matched their skill.

"Gaden, I called you over so you could demonstrate how to use an Iron Lock for Abel and let him understand the strength needed to become a blacksmith." Master Bentham was very fond of this disciple. He was honest, hardworking, and eager to learn. Moreover, Master Bentham wanted someone to take his place and continue serving Knight Marshall once he became old and weak, as repayment for Knight Marshall's care.

"Yes, Master." Gaden gave a simple, honest smile, rubbed his hands against his clothes, and walked over to the third Iron Lock. Turning to Abel, he said, "Abel, watch my movements carefully."

Grasping both sides of the iron bar with his hands, he let out a shout. The 150-pound Iron Lock rose from the ground in one motion, then was easily lifted over his head. Gaden made it look as though he were lifting not a 150-pound Iron Lock, but a piece of straw.

"Good!" Amid the crowd's cheers, Gaden threw the Iron Lock onto the ground.

Gaden looked up at Master Bentham. The master nodded and said, "Gaden, continue."

Gaden walked to the fourth Iron Lock. This time, he lifted the 200-pound Iron Lock just as easily. Then came the fifth Iron Lock. This time, Gaden was clearly not as relaxed as before, but he still raised it over his head.

The onlookers all held their breath as Gaden walked toward the sixth Iron Lock. That one weighed 300 pounds. For an ordinary person, forget lifting it—it would not be easy even to pick it up.

This time, Gaden did not lift it immediately after standing before the sixth Iron Lock. Instead, he closed his eyes and adjusted his breathing. After a while, he opened his eyes and shouted. The 300-pound Iron Lock rose from the ground, his face flushing red from exertion as veins bulged in his neck.

When Gaden finally lifted the Iron Lock over his head, the onlookers erupted into loud cheers. The scene was extremely lively.

"Gaden, you have become stronger again. In a few more years, you will surpass me." Master Bentham looked at Gaden with satisfaction.

"I'm still far from being your equal." Gaden's face reddened at the praise, and he scratched his head sheepishly.

"Abel, it's your turn." Master Bentham looked toward Abel, thinking he would retreat in the face of difficulty. Instead, Abel had already walked straight to the third Iron Lock without hesitation.

Abel had watched Gaden's demonstration just now, and honestly, he acknowledged Gaden's strength. But he simply could not agree with that completely unskilled method of lifting weights.

As a fitness coach, barbells had been among the pieces of equipment he used most in his previous life. Gaden's strength was around 300 pounds. If Gaden knew Earth's weightlifting techniques, he could lift 350 pounds. Moreover, Gaden had made many mistakes in his form just now. His body was simply strong enough that they had not caused any injury, but using such incorrect lifting methods for a long time would inevitably damage the body to some extent.

"Is he planning to lift the 150-pound Iron Lock right away?"

"My God, he definitely can't lift it."

"Is he crazy?"

The murmuring around him began again. Abel could not help frowning. He did not like being watched like some circus act.

"Everyone, leave." Master Bentham saw that Abel disliked being watched. Thinking Abel was embarrassed about making a fool of himself before everyone, he stepped in and drove away the crowd.

Seeing Master Bentham grow angry, the crowd scattered at once.

"Don't force yourself. Just do your best." Master Bentham advised Abel.