Chapter 8: Becoming a New Recruit
"Uncle Peyton, aren't you robbing us blind?"
"Hey, kid! Is that how you talk to your uncle?"
Roland sighed helplessly, watching the arguing uncle and nephew.
He had thought his impression of mercenaries being 'unwilling to rise early without profit' was already stereotypical enough, but he never expected Peyton to even charge his own nephew.
"Good thing I came prepared."
Roland secretly congratulated himself, then pulled the red-faced Sean aside and whispered a few words to him.
A moment later, Sean reluctantly walked into the inner room and retrieved the iron sword he had hidden earlier.
Roland took the iron sword, stepped forward, and showed a gentle smile.
"Uncle Peyton, Sean has actually been worried about your urgent need for weapons. So, he specially bought this iron sword from Mr. Hawke at a low price."
Saying that, he respectfully handed over the iron sword with both hands.
"Oh?"
Peyton's gaze was instantly drawn to the iron sword, and upon hearing Hawke's name, he snatched it up impatiently.
However, after only examining it for a moment, the excitement in his eyes gradually faded. He pouted, then looked up and asked,
"Is an iron sword of this quality really forged by Hawke himself?"
"Of course not."
Roland shook his head.
"It was forged by his apprentice, otherwise Sean wouldn't be able to afford it."
"Alright, seeing that this kid has a good heart..."
Peyton's gaze passed over Roland and landed on Sean, who was still looking unconvinced behind him, and he raised an eyebrow slightly.
"You two..."
He shook the iron sword in his hand.
"Come with me to the backyard clearing."
After speaking, he turned and strode away, his boots making dull thuds on the wooden floor.
"This guy!"
Sean was quite resentful towards his uncle at this moment.
"The iron sword you forged, Roland, would cost at least several silver coins if sold! He actually..."
"Forget it, Sean."
Unlike Sean, who only cared about the silver coins, Roland already had a plan in mind.
As long as he could successfully pass the assessment two months later and become a Blacksmith Apprentice, with the advantage of the professional panel, he would eventually become a skilled blacksmith.
By then, forging iron swords of this quality would not be an issue.
Moreover, for him right now, a barely qualified iron sword was insignificant.
What was truly important was to awaken new skills and activate new professions!
Thereby increasing his attributes and self-preservation ability.
He had heard it clearly just now: learning Swordsmanship at the training ground would cost ten silver coins a month!
Although he hadn't verified it yet, Roland believed Peyton wouldn't lie about such a thing.
In comparison, being able to practice Swordsmanship with a barely qualified iron sword was an incredibly good deal.
After a few words of comfort, Roland pulled Sean to the clearing in the backyard.
Peyton had found two wooden swords at some point and casually tossed them to the two of them.
"Since you two have never learned how to use weapons, we'll start with the most Basic Swordsmanship."
After speaking, he walked to the center of the clearing, and the iron sword in his hand cut a sharp arc in the sunlight.
The moves of Basic Swordsmanship were not complicated; the core was nothing more than chopping, slashing, and thrusting, supplemented by parrying and deflecting techniques.
The real difficulty lay in the method of exerting force and the coordinated footwork transitions.
To Roland's surprise, although Peyton was stingy with money, he was surprisingly patient when teaching.
"Lower your wrist a bit more."
Peyton gently propped up Roland's trembling elbow with a wooden sword.
"Yes, just like that, keep it steady."
Roland held his breath, and the wooden sword drew a slightly awkward arc in the air.
Sweat dripped down his forehead, but his grip on the sword was already much more standard than at first.
"Don't rush to exert force."
Peyton walked behind him and suddenly patted his knee with the flat of the sword.
"Your center of gravity needs to sink! Do you think you're chopping wood?"
Sean chuckled beside him and immediately received a glare.
"What are you laughing at?"
Peyton said without turning his head.
"Your thrusts are as soft as noodles, do fifty more!"
Roland adjusted his breathing and repositioned himself.
This time, he deliberately slowed down his movements, feeling the power rise from his heels, pass through his waist and back, and transmit to his arms.
"Good!"
Peyton suddenly raised his voice, startling Roland so much that he almost dropped the sword.
"That's the feeling! Remember this way of exerting force."
"Uncle Peyton..."
Roland wiped his sweat, hesitating as he spoke.
"Why do I always feel off-balance when retracting the sword?"
Peyton snorted and suddenly lunged forward.
Roland hastily parried, only to see the other party just draw a circle around his feet with the sword tip.
"Look at your stance, your feet are almost as close as a wooden post!"
Saying that, he demonstrated a standard finishing stance, his boots grinding a clear semicircle in the sand.
"Be like a rooted tree, not a floating leaf."
Roland nodded thoughtfully.
"Also..."
Under Peyton's tireless guidance, Roland gradually grasped the essentials of Basic Swordsmanship.
Unconsciously, the sun set, and dusk gradually enveloped the courtyard.
Sean had already slipped away to prepare dinner, and Peyton had found a shady spot to nap.
In the empty courtyard, only Roland remained, tirelessly swinging the wooden sword, as if to squeeze out every last ounce of his strength.
"Chop! Slash! Thrust!"
He murmured the names of the moves, his sweat-soaked clothes clinging to his back.
The sound of the wooden sword cutting through the air was exceptionally clear in the quiet courtyard.
Just as he completed the final sword retraction, a line of dazzling golden text suddenly appeared before his eyes.
【Basic Swordsmanship acquired, current level: Lv.1】
【Detection complete, can become Basic Profession: New Recruit】
【Requirements: Strength 2, Agility 1, any Lv.1 combat-related skill】
【Proceed with profession advancement?】
"It's just as I expected..."
Roland looked at the shimmering golden text before him, a tired smile gracing his lips.
As this thought flashed, his struggling body finally reached its limit. His legs gave out, and he collapsed heavily into the dusty courtyard.
"Awakening combat skills... indeed allows for related professions..."
He thought to himself, sweat slowly dripping down his chin.
Although his whole body ached, the light in his eyes was brighter than ever.
Upon hearing the sound, Peyton, who was half-lying nearby, slightly opened his eyes and mumbled,
"Finally giving up? This kid really has perseverance..."
He wasn't optimistic about Roland practicing Swordsmanship.
It wasn't because he wasn't working hard enough, but because the latter had a natural physical disadvantage.
Compared to his sturdy nephew, Roland was like a reed that could be blown over by the wind at any moment.
Years of mercenary life had shown him too many similar scenes.
Even the most exquisite Swordsmanship was useless in the face of an absolute difference in strength.
With a physique like Roland's, rather than forcing himself to practice swords, it would be better to...
"Swinging a wooden sword for a day is so tiring, swinging a sledgehammer must be even more exhausting."
Peyton muttered to himself.
"The Blacksmith Apprentice assessment is probably out of the question. Tomorrow I'll have to go ask that old drunkard Lauren if his shop needs any more hands..."
Although outwardly calm, Peyton knew full well.
The idea of sending him an iron sword could never have come from his own simple-minded nephew, who only knew how to use brute force.
Though he was greedy and stingy, he also had his own principles.
He wouldn't inquire about the origin of this iron sword.
But since he had accepted a gift from someone, he naturally had to reciprocate.
He always disliked owing favors.
Meanwhile, Roland in the courtyard was unaware of Peyton's thoughts.
He was propping himself up on his knees, panting heavily, and only when his breathing gradually calmed did he silently intone in his mind,
"Become a New Recruit!"