Translator: CinderTL
Compared to Theresa, Hoby possessed a far deeper understanding of Howling Gorge.
This treacherous canyon served as a natural gateway, straddling the two continents and tightly guarding the vital sea route to the Northern Continent.
Any ship attempting to reach the Northern Continent by sea had no choice but to confront this formidable chasm.
While the entrance to Howling Gorge was indeed perilous, experienced captains and navigators could usually navigate it safely with sufficient caution.
Hoby was precisely such a seasoned mariner, having weathered countless storms.
Before entering the Knight Academy, he had crossed these waters multiple times with his elder brother, Trevor.
Though he couldn't claim to know every hidden reef by heart, his familiarity with the critical channels was more than enough to inspire confidence.
Thus, when Roland proposed a bandit suppression operation, the halfling immediately dispatched reconnaissance teams and then volunteered to join the mission himself.
Roland readily accepted this offer.
Although his awakened nautical skills had granted him theoretical knowledge, his practical experience remained somewhat raw, lacking the instinctive feel for the sea that Hoby had honed through years of battling wind and waves.
With the assistance of this experienced halfling, the chances of successfully clearing out the pirates would undoubtedly increase significantly.
"But this means I'll have to miss more classes," Hoby muttered, scratching his messy, curly hair, his face etched with conflict.
Seeing his distress, Roland chuckled and ruffled Hoby's hair.
Unlike the rigid doctrines of the Church Academy, the Knight Academy had always championed the principle of "sword and scholarship in equal measure."
Therefore, with Roland's guarantee, the academically outstanding halfling quickly obtained permission from his mentor, Reggie, to take leave.
Of course, this was also due to the exceptional talent Roland had recently demonstrated. Had an ordinary student vouched for him, the strict mentor would never have relented so easily.
After finalizing the sailing arrangements for Howling Gorge, Roland immediately hurried to the Blacksmith's Guild.
When he noticed Noel's familiar figure missing from the front desk, he frowned.
During his time working at the guild, the meticulous dwarf had never abandoned his post, always performing his duties with the precision of a finely tuned clockwork mechanism.
"Maybe something urgent came up?" Roland speculated, turning toward Master Griffin's workshop.
Even before he got close, a thunderous roar shook the corridor, making it vibrate.
"Noel! You didn't even notice the iron testing post in the testing ground was snapped in half? What kind of manager are you, just a decoration?"
"Master, I swear! According to guild regulations, I left after sunset last night, and all the equipment was intact then."
"Then tell me, you fool, which bastard broke my iron post in two?"
"I... I really..."
Griffin's furious bellow echoed through the stone corridor. Even through the thick oak door, Roland could imagine the old dwarf's flushed face and the spittle flying from his mouth.
When he heard the key phrase "iron testing post in the testing ground," Roland's lips twitched involuntarily.
No one knew better than he did what had happened to that post.
It was he who had cleaved the scrap-iron testing post in two yesterday while testing his newly enchanted weapon.
As for why he hadn't reported it immediately...
It wasn't that he wanted to shirk responsibility.
The testing ground's equipment was meant for testing weapons; damage was commonplace, and it was simply a matter of compensation.
Moreover, the Blacksmith's Guild had been deserted when he finished work last night, leaving him with no one to report to. This oversight had led to the current misunderstanding.
Knock, knock, knock!
Thinking this, Roland politely tapped on the door, but the crisp knocks were completely drowned out by the roaring within.
Forced to escalate, he pounded his fist heavily three times, the force shaking dust from the doorframe.
"Who's the imbecile bothering me now? Can't you hear I'm busy?!"
"It's me, Master Griffin!" Roland shouted back, raising his voice to cut through the dwarf's furious bellow.
"Roland?"
A brief silence followed.
Then, heavy footsteps approached, and the door creaked open to reveal Noel, his face gaunt with exhaustion.
The poor dwarf was gently picking at his ear with a thick finger, clearly still rattled by the earlier roar.
"Good day, Mr. Roland," he said, maintaining his elegant manners despite the circumstances.
"Good day, Noel."
Roland glanced apologetically at Noel, nodded slightly, and strode inside.
As the heavy stench of alcohol washed over him, he stood before the irascible dwarf master.
"Master Griffin, I feel it's necessary to explain," Roland said softly, bowing slightly. "I accidentally damaged the iron stake in the testing ground yesterday while testing a newly forged tool."
Hearing this, a flicker of joy flashed in Noel's eyes, but he quickly shook his head.
Griffin's reaction was far more direct.
The dwarf forging master scoffed, set down his wine flask, and glared at the human youth before him.
"You? Kid! I'll admit you've got some talent for forging, but..."
The flask clattered heavily onto the table.
"I refuse to believe anything you forged could have severed that solid iron stake!"
Griffin's gaze swept back and forth between Roland and Noel as he growled, "Looks like you two are thick as thieves now, huh? You've even learned to conspire and try to fool this old fool!"
"That's because..."
Although the Enchanter ability granted by the Job Panel was immensely powerful, this profession didn't materialize out of thin air.
Even before the first year of the Final Epoch, ancient texts contained records of weapon enchantment, and the dwarves were the undisputed masters of this craft.
Roland had intended to reveal his Enchanter identity to Griffin, hoping to earn the Master's respect and gain access to rare materials beyond the reach of ordinary people.
But Griffin, still seething with anger, abruptly cut him off and roared at Noel, who was standing nearby.
"What are you still standing there for?! Do I have to investigate this myself?!"
"I... I'll go right away, Master Griffin..."
Noel shivered involuntarily, lowered his head in response, and hurried out of the room. As he passed Roland, he cast a grateful glance.
Noticing the gratitude in Noel's eyes, Roland shook his head with a hint of helplessness.
"Alright, kid! What do you want from me?"
Griffin tilted his head back and gulped down another large mouthful of liquor.
With a loud gulping sound, the burly dwarf wiped the spilled drink from his beard and growled, "If you're here to plead for that brat Noel... get lost before I punch you!"
Hearing this, Roland dropped the subject of the iron stake and calmly asked, "Master Griffin, I just wanted to know... does the Blacksmith's Guild have any connections for obtaining rare metals like mithril or adamantine?"
"Ha! Mithril... and adamantine? You've got quite the appetite, kid!"
Griffin was about to launch into another tirade, but remembering Roland's exceptional forging talent and his status as Hawk's apprentice, he forced himself to explain.
"Forget about getting your hands on those here. Even in the Dwarven Kingdom to the north, those materials are rarer than hen's teeth!"
"Adamantine is pure luck. If you're lucky, you might stumble across a few pieces. As for mithril..."
His thick fingers slammed heavily on the wooden table, producing a dull thud.
"Even though it's relatively more common in the Dwarven Kingdom, every vein is tightly controlled by those damned royal families! Don't think for a second that just because you're a guild member..."
Griffin's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Even if you were one of those high-nosed forging masters, you'd still have to grovel and bow to those royal bastards just to beg for a few scraps!"
(End of the Chapter)
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