Before going to Pinewood Town, Roland had spent some time studying under Bronson while assisting with his research.

During that period, Bronson had explained the key steps ancient texts recorded for Warlocks casting spells.

First, one had to master a meditation method, using meditation to improve Spirit and open the Deep Consciousness within the mind.

Second, one had to learn spell runes and use powerful Spirit to inscribe them within the Deep Consciousness.

Finally, one had to master a special technique for drawing the required mana elements from the air, then use those elements to activate the spell runes within the Deep Consciousness and complete the spell.

If Roland wanted to cast true spells and improve his strength that way, two obstacles stood in front of him.

First, he had no way to obtain a meditation method at this stage.

Second, Bronson had been expelled from the Tower and was not even a Warlock apprentice, so he had never learned any spell runes.

Even if he had learned them, the Tower's prohibition would prevent him from teaching that knowledge to anyone.

So although the world's mana elements were recovering, Roland had no way to become a true Spellcaster in the short term.

Cantrips were different. Their requirements were far looser.

They also required rune inscription and the drawing of mana elements from the air, but their runes only needed to be imprinted on the Consciousness Shoal.

As for the Consciousness Shoal, anyone whose Spirit was slightly higher than an ordinary person's possessed it. The only question was whether it could be awakened.

For drawing mana elements, Bronson's Spell Circuits had already offered a solution.

Whether one cast spells or cantrips, however, smoothness and speed were still limited by one key factor.

The speed of drawing mana elements from the air, and their purity.

In theory, the purer the mana elements drawn in, the smoother the casting process and the faster the casting speed.

When Roland first entered, Bronson had mentioned his improvements to the Spell Circuits.

Although their capacity had decreased a little, the speed at which they drew mana elements had increased significantly.

If the improved Spell Circuits were inscribed onto this special bone...

Bronson understood Roland's meaning at once.

Startled light entered his eyes. His left hand snatched up a sheet of parchment, and the quill scratched across the page with a soft rustle.

"Since the bone itself can carry mana elements of such purity..."

He muttered to himself while the quill sketched complex patterns across the paper.

"Then we can completely abandon the storage function of the Spell Circuits and focus on..."

When the quill finally stopped, the scholar's fingers trembled with excitement.

He grabbed Roland's shoulder, voice pressed extremely low but still shaking.

"Roland! You are a genius!"

The wet ink lines on the parchment shimmered in the light.

"Let the Spell Circuits specialize in drawing mana, while the bone serves as the carrier... this is simply the perfect combination!"

"Mr. Bronson..."

Roland calmly removed Bronson's hand from his shoulder.

"You were only carried away by excitement for a moment. Even without my reminder, you would have thought of it soon enough..."

Seeing the light in Bronson's eyes grow brighter, he changed the subject at the right time.

His fingertip tapped the surface of the bone, producing a crisp click.

"Mr. Bronson, in your professional judgment, if Spell Circuits were inscribed onto this bone, would the stored mana elements be enough to release several cantrips?"

The question landed like cold water, settling the mania in Bronson's eyes.

He frowned, his fingers rubbing the edge of the bone.

"Well..."

After thinking for a moment, he rubbed his hands together, a little embarrassed.

"Roland, I need some time to make detailed calculations..."

At this point, the scholar grabbed Roland's sleeve in his urgency, then realized his mistake and let go.

"Can you leave this bone with me for now? I swear..."

Bronson thumped his chest hard to show his sincerity, only to trigger a violent coughing fit.

"Cough, cough... I guarantee it on my honor... I absolutely will not damage it in the slightest..."

"Of course, Mr. Bronson."

Roland raised his brows.

Even if Bronson had not asked, he had planned to do exactly that.

Specialized work should be left to specialists.

With Roland's current knowledge, even ten more years of study might not let him catch up to this scholar who had spent years at the Tower and lived for research.

"However... if the research proceeds smoothly..."

Bronson hurriedly picked up the peeling wooden cup and gulped down several mouthfuls of clean water. Once his breathing settled, he made a solemn promise.

"Just as we agreed, all research results will be yours to use."

He wiped the water from his beard, his eyes bright with pure enthusiasm for research.

"You know that what I pursue has always been truth itself."

"Deal."

Roland pushed the white bone toward Bronson, then took six silver coins from the money pouch at his waist. The silver coins landed on the wooden table with crisp clinks.

"This is two months of research funding paid in advance, Mr. Bronson. I hope you won't disappoint me..."

"Leave it to me!"

The sight of the silver coins immediately revived Bronson. Out of habit, he almost thumped his chest again, but his hand stopped in midair.

The coughing fit from earlier was still fresh in his mind, so he withdrew his hand sheepishly and scratched the back of his messy head.

"One more thing..."

Roland's knuckles tapped a steady rhythm on the oak tabletop.

"When can we begin studying cantrip runes?"

Bronson's hand, still rubbing the silver coins, froze.

"Wait. The ancient script I taught you... have you fully mastered it already?"

The scholar's eyes widened.

Those obscure ancient characters had taken him several years just to barely grasp.

"Not yet."

Roland rubbed his temple.

Every time he studied those ancient characters, drowsiness hit him like a sleeping potion.

Only by activating the [Focus] trait could he barely stay awake.

After hearing this answer, Bronson let out a quiet breath and placed the silver coins into his pouch.

"Listen, Roland. Inscribing cantrip runes on the Consciousness Shoal is an extremely personal process."

He drew a demonstration diagram on the parchment with his quill.

"You must be able to independently interpret the ancient script, even if you only understand most of it, before you can adjust a rune array that belongs solely to you."

The ink on the parchment twisted like snakes beneath the candlelight. Roland stared at the lines.

"Then how does an ordinary person awaken the Consciousness Shoal?"

"As far as I know, there are three methods..."

Bronson extended three thin fingers, their knuckles casting long, narrow shadows beneath the sunlight.

"The first is to practice Echo Art. It is an incomplete meditation method the Tower distributes for free to every advanced student, but as you know..."

Bronson pointed at his own temple and sighed helplessly.

"Restricted by the prohibition, I cannot teach it to you."

"The second is natural awakening..."

Bronson knitted his brows, searching his memory.

"A very small number of people born with active Spirit will awaken the Consciousness Shoal under certain conditions, such as a powerful mental shock or prolonged exposure to an environment with high concentrations of certain mana elements..."

"As for the third method, that would be consuming a secret potion."

At this point, Bronson patted Roland's shoulder.

"Don't worry. I have all the materials needed to refine the secret potion. It's just..."

Following his gaze, Roland looked toward the pile of clutter in the corner. It looked as though a storm had passed through it, with old pouches and unknown implements barely visible inside.

"Cough, cough... I may need some time to sort things out..."

Bronson nudged a fallen ceramic jar back into the pile with the tip of his shoe.

"And the refining process..."

He turned and rummaged in front of the bookcase for quite a while before pulling out a notebook stained with faint water marks. Several dried violet petals shook loose from inside, making him look embarrassed.

"I also need to practice it again..."

"I understand."

Roland was not disappointed.

His gaze swept over the scholar's sunken cheeks and protruding collarbones, and he sighed softly.

"Mr. Bronson, later I will arrange for Matthew to deliver meals to you on time every day."

He tapped the black bread on the table, which was hard as stone.

"No matter how important the research is, you still have to eat and sleep on schedule."

"Y-yes..."

The sudden concern left Bronson at a loss. He scraped his rough knuckles across the tabletop, leaving several shallow marks.

To ease the atmosphere, Roland changed the topic.

"Speaking of which, do you have any idea who the original owner of this bone might have been?"

"It was definitely a monster, no question, but..."

The moment academic matters came up, Bronson forgot his earlier embarrassment.

He frowned deeply, fingers twisting his beard.

"A monster with both fire elemental affinity and enormous size... records from before the first year of the Final Era mention many similar species. I need to check some ancient texts and verify it carefully."

"Then I'll trouble you with it."

Roland nodded.

"In that case, I will leave first. A little later, I will come find you again to study the ancient script."

"Take care, Roland!"

Bronson spoke politely, but he had already escorted Roland to the door with clear impatience.

As the wooden door slammed shut, his excited muttering drifted through the crack.

"Should I test elemental conductivity first, or..."

Rummaging rose inside the house almost at once.

Roland shook his head with a laugh.

He felt no disappointment over the fact that he could not master cantrips in the short term.

Compared to true spells, cantrips were far weaker. At most, they could serve as auxiliary attacks.

In Roland's view, using the occupation panel to complete his Warrior job change as quickly as possible, awaken more skills, and open up more occupations was the fastest path to improving his strength.

With that thought, his steps quickened. Soon, he was gone from the front of the wooden house.

Time passed quietly. More than half a month had gone by since Roland returned from Pinewood Town.

Roland's life settled back into its calm, fulfilling rhythm.

He worked at the blacksmith shop in the morning, trained on his own at dusk, studied ancient script with Bronson at night, and occasionally tried new things to see if he could awaken new skills.

Bronson's research was also progressing fairly smoothly. He had already designed Spell Circuits that perfectly matched the bone, though fully engraving those delicate lines onto the bone's surface would still take quite some time.

The only regrettable part was the scholar's performance in pharmaceutics.

He was extremely unfamiliar with the potion-refining process, and in this field, he clearly lacked talent.

After dozens of failures, he had not refined a potion capable of activating the Consciousness Shoal and had wasted more than half of the precious materials.

Seeing this, Roland, who had once successfully refined the Mithril Body Tempering Method's secret potion, took over the task himself.

To his surprise, the refining process for the Consciousness Shoal awakening potion was far more tedious and complicated than he had imagined.

Each material had to be processed differently. The slightest deviation in quantity or sequence would waste all previous effort.

Compared with this potion, making the Mithril Body Tempering Method's secret potion was as simple as mixing water and mud.

After several attempts, Roland failed as well.

The only fortunate thing was that during this process, he unexpectedly awakened an alchemy-related skill.

Because materials were in short supply, Roland instead followed Bronson and learned how to refine potions with simple ingredients and basic steps.

Although the probability of successfully refining potions was still not high, the experience value of his alchemy skill continued to rise.

Aside from that irritating matter, these regular, orderly days were rather satisfying.

If not for someone beside him chattering all day long, they might have been perfect.

"Roland, have you heard?"

Darco, whose leg injury had almost fully healed, brushed a horse while speaking enthusiastically.

"The monster unrest in Black Fir Forest seems to have calmed down for now!"

"Who knows what those monsters are up to? They actually dug a huge nest underground in the forest, then shut themselves in and stopped coming out to cause trouble. As a result, that old fellow Beckham..."

Roland took over at the right moment.

"Dismissed the local militia and only left his direct troops stationed at the edge of the forest..."

"Hm?"

Darco widened his eyes and stared at the young man kneeling on one knee as he cleaned dirt from between Blackwind's hooves.

"Roland, how did you know that? This is firsthand news. I came to tell you the moment I heard it from my father."

Roland picked out the last clump of mud. His thoughts drifted to the letter he had received not long ago, and Sean's honest face surfaced in his mind.

"I didn't expect Sean to actually become a member of Beckham's direct troops..."

The corner of his mouth lifted.

Then he stood, smoothed Blackwind's glossy mane, and picked up the wooden bucket filled with clean water.

"I happen to have a friend serving under Lord Beckham."

"Your friend?"

Darco's eyes lit up. After patting his mount's rump and sending it away, he moved closer.

"If that old fellow Beckham took notice of him, he must have some strength..."

He stretched out an arm and, with some effort, hooked it around Roland's increasingly sturdy body, resting his hand on Roland's shoulder.

"I say, Roland, what future is there in following Beckham? Why not have him come work for me?"

"Once I return from advanced study at Knight Academy, I'll immediately promote him to be my Squire!"

"Stop dreaming..."

Roland slipped free of Darco's arm and continued washing the horse's mane with water from the bucket.

"That friend of mine grew up listening to Lord Beckham's legends. It wasn't easy for him to become a soldier under Beckham. How could he turn around and follow you? Besides..."

Roland glanced at the golden text that appeared before his eyes. His expression shifted, but he did not examine it at once. Instead, he asked a question that had been buried in his mind for some time.

"Darco, from your tone... it seems you have some opinion about Lord Beckham?"

"Opinion? Hmph!"

Darco snorted, his expression turning awkward.

"That old fellow's experiences are indeed legendary. He graduated from Knight Academy as a fallen noble and even obtained a breathing method inheritance..."

"But he actually changed his own surname to curry favor with the noble who gave him that breathing method!"

The young noble slammed the brush against the edge of the wooden bucket, sending water splashing.

"Although... I can understand why he did it, but..."

Darco cut himself off and waved irritably.

"Forget it. Let's not talk about that..."

He changed the topic decisively, then leaned closer and flicked the iron sword at Roland's waist with his fingertip.

"Speaking of which, what material is that iron sword of yours made from? It has gone through so many fierce battles without any damage at all. Don't tell me..."

Darco blinked mischievously.

"You secretly used some amazing technique or material? If you're willing to forge one for me too, I'll keep this secret for you. How about it?"

Hearing the teasing in his words, Roland shook his head helplessly.

Darco did have a point.

After an ordinary iron sword went through multiple battles, even if the blade itself remained intact, the edge should have curled or chipped long ago.

As for why Roland's iron sword was so sturdy, that was all thanks to the [Battlefield Maintenance] extra buff.

In fact, until the life-and-death battle with the Winged Kobold, he had not fully realized just how powerful this buff was.

During that battle, the iron sword had clashed head-on with the heavy greataxe several times.

But when he inspected it afterward, he found that other than slight wear along the edge, the entire sword was almost good as new. With simple sharpening, it could be put back into battle.

This secret was clearly not something he could tell Darco.

Roland only smiled and was about to find an excuse when hurried footsteps sounded nearby.

He turned and saw a servant walking quickly toward them.

"Young Master Darco..."

The moment he saw the servant, Darco put away his earlier frivolous expression.

His brows drew together, and he scolded in a low voice.

"Why the rush? If something happened, speak."

"Y-yes..."

The servant trembled under Darco's sharp gaze, hurriedly wiped the sweat from his forehead, and bowed.

"The master asks that you go to him immediately."

"Father?"

Darco looked up at the sun, which had not yet begun to set.

"It's not time for dinner yet, is it?"

Though full of questions, he straightened his slightly disheveled lapels, then turned and gave Roland an apologetic smile.

"Roland, I have to go. Let's talk tomorrow."

After Darco disappeared into the distance with the servant, the surroundings felt peaceful again. Roland released a long breath.

After steadying himself, he summoned the occupation panel.

[Upon inspection, you qualify for the base occupation: Stableman]

[Requirements: Strength 0.5, Agility 0.5, two max-level horse-taming-related skills]

[Proceed with job change?]

"As expected, Stableman?"

Seeing that it was exactly as he had predicted, Roland raised his brows and recited in his mind.

"Change occupation to Stableman."

[Job change successful. Current occupation: Stableman]

[Attribute bonus gained: Strength +0.5, Agility +0.5]

[Trait gained: Gallop]

[Gallop: Temporarily stimulates a mount's potential, significantly increasing burst speed and ignoring negative effects caused by terrain, such as swamps and gravel. Duration depends on the mount's Endurance]

"Another actively activated trait."

Roland's eyes brightened. After reading the trait description carefully, he mounted Blackwind and chose a wide path in the horse grounds.

When he recited the command in his mind, Roland felt a warm current surge from within his body and pass through the reins into Blackwind.

The already magnificent black horse raised his head and neighed, his mane flaring like flame. His front hooves pawed twice in midair, and when they landed, they stamped hoofprints half an inch deep into the compacted dirt.

"Go!"

With a light flick of the reins, Blackwind shot forward like an arrow loosed from the string.

Caught off guard, Roland was thrown backward by the force. The scenery on both sides stretched into blurred bands of color.

The violent wind tore at his linen shirt, and the horse's tail streamed behind them in a straight black line.

When they rushed past the training field, several stableboys brushing horses stared wide-eyed. The gust they stirred up flipped a water bucket into the air.

Most astonishing was Blackwind's performance when crossing obstacles.

When Blackwind charged toward the half-man-high pile of firewood at the edge of the field, Roland instinctively tightened the reins. Yet Blackwind's hind-leg muscles swelled, and when he leaped, he seemed to break free of the earth's restraints.

For that suspended instant, Roland seemed to hear his own violent heartbeat resonate with the blood surging through Blackwind's veins.

"Crash!"

When they landed, scattered stones struck the wooden fence with crackling sounds.

Only a moment later did Blackwind come to a stop, spraying white foam.

His pupils expanded and contracted, and his muscles trembled uncontrollably. Clearly, this burst placed a tremendous physical burden on him.

Seeing this, Roland hurriedly dismounted.

After inspecting Blackwind and confirming that he was only exhausted, not seriously harmed, Roland finally breathed out. Then excitement rose in him.

"If I swung a weapon and launched a surprise attack at that speed, then combined it with Cleave's power-generating technique, it would probably be very hard for anyone to react in time, right?"

Imagining himself holding a long weapon and sweeping across the battlefield like a whirlwind, Roland's eyes lit up.

But when he turned and saw Blackwind still breathing heavily, he shook his head again.

"Still, just like Cleave, after Gallop ends, the mount enters an exhausted state. Looks like it can only be used as a final trump card..."

"But after changing occupation to Stableman, I should now meet the attribute requirements for Warrior. With Lion Swordsmanship about to reach max level, I should be able to change occupation to Warrior in a few days. Right..."

Thinking of this, Roland quickly focused on the occupation panel.

"I haven't checked what extra buffs were triggered by Stableman's resonance with my other occupations yet..."