Chapter 28: Chapter 28: Brawl
An unknown amount of ti passed. Only when the examination was about to end did the other young apprentices finally complete their pieces.
A row of similarly shaped Two-Handed Swords lay neatly arranged on their respective anvils, their cold steel glinting under the sun.
"COUGH, COUGH, COUGH..."
Hawke gave a few light coughs, then stepped forward to inspect the Two-Handed Swords the boys had forged, one by one.
Before long, however, the old Blacksmith’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper, and his face grew visibly red.
Perhaps out of consideration for Baron Fosling’s presence, he refrained from his usual angry reprimands, instead announcing the results again and again in a low voice.
"You let the ore burn too hot. Failed."
"Insufficient force in the hamring. Failed."
"You... This sword doesn’t match the design specifications. Failed!"
Hawke’s breathing grew heavier, and his footsteps sounded more leaden.
After a short while, he arrived in front of Marco.
This son of a Blacksmith had not been fazed by Roland’s fluid and masterful Forging Skills. Instead, he stood with his back straight, eting Hawke’s scrutiny with a firm gaze.
"Hmm..."
Hawke picked up the Two-Handed Sword Marco had forged with a single hand. He raised it before his eyes, examining it in silence for a long ti.
A surge of confidence welled up inside Marco at the sight.
After all, when Hawke had inspected the other young apprentices’ work, he had often reached a conclusion after only a glance or two.
After a long mont, the old Blacksmith slowly lowered the Two-Handed Sword and gave a slight nod.
"Not bad. The force, rhythm, and striking points of your hamring were all well-controlled. Only the heat for the Ore Burning was a little lacking, but..."
He paused.
"I’ll consider it a pass."
"Thank you, Mr. Hawke!"
Marco bowed excitedly. As he straightened, his eyes unconsciously flickered to Roland, full of contempt and provocation.
’In his eyes, Roland had spent the entire past month clutching a strange Dagger, using a file to carve so bizarre patterns on it. He hadn’t seriously practiced his Forging Skills at all.’
’So what if he’s talented?’
’Without the accumulated tempering of daily practice, his technique could only regress.’
’How could the Roland of today possibly compare to ?’
’As for Roland’s astonishing forging speed earlier, he dismissed it as re grandstanding.’
’After all, forging was a craft where slow, careful work produced the best results. Rushing could easily compromise the quality of the final piece.’
At this thought, Marco glanced over at the group of boys who had failed the assessnt and let out a cold snort.
His already straight back tensed further, and he lifted his chin high, looking for all the world like a triumphant lion.
In the very next mont, however, the arrogant look in Marco’s eyes froze, replaced by utter, disbelieving shock.
He watched as Master Hawke slowly walked over to Roland’s anvil. After just two light taps on the blade with his finger, he snapped his head up, his eyes flashing with delighted surprise, and shouted loudly.
"Perfect! Passed!"
"I declare Roland the winner of this assessnt!"
As his voice fell, a rare smile graced Hawke’s usually stern face.
He reached out to pat Roland’s shoulder, his tone gentle yet still commanding.
"Lad, now that you’re working for , don’t even think about slacking off. You work hard, you hear?"
"Yes, sir!"
Roland had anticipated this outco ever since he’d beco a Blacksmith, but he still couldn’t suppress his excitent.
Becoming a Blacksmith Apprentice directly under a nobleman ant he would not only receive a stable monthly salary, but his social status would also rise significantly.
More importantly, it provided him with the opportunity to keep advancing his Forging Skills and continuously raise the Level of his Basic Forging Skill.
’It was a case of killing several birds with one stone!’
But just then, a voice, distorted with rage, suddenly rang out.
"Mr. Hawke, this..."
Marco’s fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His whole body trembled with agitation.
He completely ignored the presence of Baron Fosling and shouted directly at Hawke.
"This isn’t fair!"
"How could his Forging Skills possibly be better than mine? He’s just a peasant! My father is a..."
Staring at the near-hysterical Marco, Hawke didn’t grow angry. Instead, a hint of pity flickered in his eyes.
’To be fair, Marco’s Forging Skills were truly outstanding.’
’If a genius like Roland hadn’t appeared out of nowhere, this apprenticeship would have been his for the taking.’
But Hawke wasn’t one to be swayed by sentint.
Even though he was on good terms with Marco’s father, he still knew how to separate professional matters from personal ones.
"Silence! You fool!"
After bellowing at Marco, Hawke imdiately turned and bowed to Baron Fosling in apology.
He then snatched up the two Two-Handed Swords and brought them together with a surge of strength.
"CLANG!"
With a sharp ring of striking tal, the two heavy blades clashed violently.
Tiny shards of iron drifted down in the sunlight.
The crowd fixed their gaze on the swords.
The Two-Handed Sword Roland had forged still glinted coldly, with only a few shallow scratches on its edge.
Marco’s blade, however, now had a shocking, jagged notch chipped out of it.
The facts spoke for themselves; the difference in quality was obvious.
"This... this is impossible..."
Marco stumbled back two steps, the color draining from his face until it was deathly pale.
’But he had clearly surpassed himself during the forging.’
’That should have been his most perfect masterpiece to date.’
Yet the result before him was a heavy hamr blow that shattered his pride to pieces.
He instinctively glanced at Roland. Though Roland wasn’t even looking at him, Marco imagined he could feel the silent scorn.
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