Translator: CinderTL
The parchment Roland held contained the Mithril Body Tempering Technique, a secret art he had unexpectedly acquired.
This was, in fact, his primary reason for visiting Sean.
Among his close friends, Hawk was a blacksmith focused solely on his craft, while John was a lazy veteran—neither had any use for such a technique.
As for Darco, the young noble had already mastered his family's secret art for body tempering.
After careful consideration, Roland concluded that Sean was the most suitable candidate for this secret art.
His dear friend shared his humble origins. Although Sean had earned Beckham's favor, it remained uncertain whether the noble would impart such secret arts to him.
Of course, there was also Bronson.
However, given the scholar's deep immersion in research, he likely had little interest in physical cultivation.
"Wait!"
Thinking of Bronson, Roland suddenly had a flash of inspiration.
"Perhaps I should give the Mithril Body Tempering Technique to Mr. Bronson for research? Who knows what unexpected surprises the scholar might uncover."
"Roland, our friendship means more than any gift. Teaching you my skills requires no reward. However..."
When Sean saw Roland raise the parchment in his hand, his pupils widened slightly. Puzzled, he asked, "What's that you're holding?"
"Remember that assassin we encountered in the forest?" Roland replied, snapping back to attention. He spread the parchment out on the wooden table and beckoned Sean over.
"You mean..." Sean frowned, racking his memory. Suddenly, he swung his legs off the bed, his fists clenching involuntarily. "That bastard Marco! Right, Roland, what happened to him?"
"Him?" Roland raised an eyebrow and waved dismissively. "That's not important. Come take a look at this first."
"Oh!" Sean obediently moved to the table, staring intently at the parchment for a long moment before scratching his head sheepishly. "Roland, you know I can't read much."
"I almost forgot." Roland slapped his forehead, belatedly remembering his dear friend's limited literacy.
Abandoning the suspense, he declared bluntly, "This is a body tempering technique!"
"Body tempering... Wait!" Sean's eyes widened dramatically, his brown curls seeming to bristle with excitement.
"Are you saying this is the Knight's Body Tempering Secret Art?"
"Exactly!" Roland thumped his solid chest, producing a dull thud. "How else do you think I built this physique?"
"Th-this..." Sean stammered, never doubting Roland's words. Though he couldn't read the script, he cradled the parchment carefully, as if it were a priceless treasure. Scenes from adventure novels flashed through his mind, and a fervent light ignited in the simple youth's eyes.
But the fervor quickly faded. He awkwardly turned his head, gently placed the parchment back on the table, and stammered, "R-Roland, this gift is too much. I... I can't accept it."
"Enough!" Roland chuckled, patting his best friend's shoulder at his awkwardness. "What? Do I have to deliver a heartfelt declaration of friendship and then we both have to hug and cry before you'll accept this gift?"
"That won't be necessary," Sean said, rubbing his slightly flushed eyes and smiling sheepishly. "Then I'll accept it without further hesitation?"
"Now that's more like it!"
Roland nodded in satisfaction, then retrieved the pre-prepared medicinal herbs and tools from his pack, skillfully grinding the ingredients.
With his current proficiency in potion-making, concocting such a basic remedy was child's play.
Before long, the silvery medicinal liquid was evenly applied across Sean's entire body.
"Roland... this feeling... hiss!"
Sean gasped sharply.
"Relax," Roland said casually, leaning back in his wooden chair. He watched his friend's flushed face and bulging veins, a faint smile playing on his lips. "The pain is normal. It'll pass quickly."
Trusting his dearest friend implicitly, Sean gritted his teeth and endured in silence.
Soon, the silvery liquid gradually dried, crumbling into a grayish-black powder that cascaded to the ground.
Sean exhaled deeply, his legs buckling as he collapsed onto the floor, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.
"How... do you feel?"
Observing Sean, whose physique had nearly doubled in size after completing the Mithril Body Tempering Technique, a complex emotion flickered through Roland's eyes.
If he remembered correctly, when he first practiced the Mithril Body Tempering Technique, his strength attribute on the system panel had only increased by 0.7, and the physical changes were barely noticeable.
But Sean...
It seems the stronger a cultivator's base physique, the more pronounced the effects of the Mithril Body Tempering Technique.
Lost in his excitement, Sean didn't notice his friend's strange behavior.
The earnest young man took a moment to regulate his breathing before abruptly standing up. He instinctively tensed all his muscles, his face beaming with delight as he exclaimed, "Roland, this tempering technique is absolutely incredible! I feel like my strength has at least doubled!"
"G-good to hear it's working," Roland replied, his throat tightening. He quickly poured himself a glass of water to soothe it.
"Next, we just need to—"
The words caught in his throat as he suddenly fell into deep thought.
I remember after practicing the Mithril Body Tempering Technique three times, my strength attribute stopped increasing. I wonder what Sean's limit is...
With this in mind, Roland continued, "I'll keep refining secret medicines for you during this period, until you feel your strength stops increasing."
"Thank you so much, Roland!"
Sean excitedly waved his thick hand and clapped Roland heavily on the shoulder.
"Ouch!"
The long-forgotten sharp pain in his shoulder made Roland's lips twitch.
In that moment, he suddenly felt a flicker of doubt about his decision to have Sean practice the Mithril Body Tempering Technique.
After a few more casual words, they climbed into bed and quickly drifted off to sleep.
The next day, at the first hint of dawn, as the sky began to lighten with a pale, fish-belly white, Sean hurried off to the military camp.
Roland, accompanied by Peyton, strolled through the streets of Mist Creek Town, taking in the sights.
He also made a point of visiting the Adventurer's Guild.
After all, his progress in mastering polearm techniques should be rapid. If he could conveniently accept a few demonic beast slaying commissions and fulfill the "mounted combat" requirement along the way, he could successfully complete the transition to a knight's squire before heading to the River Domain Nations.
In such a lawless and chaotic region, every additional bit of strength would serve as extra insurance.
Unfortunately, as he had heard earlier, the demonic beasts of the Black Cedar Forest had all retreated underground under Beckham's suppression and refused to emerge.
The only recent mission to raid a demonic beast nest had already been claimed by an unknown individual.
Roland was forced to return empty-handed.
"Never mind," he thought. "I can complete the 'mounted combat' requirement when I reach the River Domain Nations. If I have enough time, I might even try my luck in Pine Wood Town."
With that, Roland returned to the tavern and helped Gary with his work.
As dusk settled, Sean returned, leading a handsome brown stallion.
The good-natured young man immediately pulled Roland toward the edge of town.
Reaching an open field, Sean deftly unloaded the various weapons from the horse's back with a single sweep of his right arm.
Long spears, lances, poleaxes, and polehammers—the four weapons he had mastered.
The teaching process went remarkably smoothly.
Many weapon techniques shared common principles.
With his foundation in Short Blade Mastery and the assistance of his Focus trait, Roland quickly grasped the essentials of these four polearms.
However, when he actually mounted his horse to practice, he discovered that wielding a long-handled weapon from horseback was far more challenging than he had imagined.
(End of the Chapter)