Compared with Teresa, Hobby understood Wailing Gorge in far greater detail.

The steep gorge was like a natural gate lying between two continents, firmly controlling the sea route leading north.

Any ship that wanted to travel to the northern continent by sea had to face this natural barrier.

The terrain at the entrance to Wailing Gorge was indeed dangerous, but for experienced captains or navigators, as long as they were careful enough, they could usually pass through safely.

And Hobby was precisely a seasoned sailor who had weathered many storms.

Before entering the Knight Academy, he had crossed these waters many times with his elder brother Trevor.

He could not claim to know every reef like the back of his hand, but his familiarity with the key channels was more than trustworthy.

Therefore, when Roland proposed the pirate-suppression plan, the Halfling first dispatched a scouting team without hesitation, then volunteered to join the operation himself.

Roland gladly accepted.

Although his awakened sailing skills had given him theoretical knowledge, his practical handling was still somewhat raw. He also lacked the intuition Hobby had honed through wind and waves.

With this experienced Halfling's help, their odds of clearing out the pirates would undoubtedly increase by a great deal.

"It will delay my classes again, though."

Hobby scratched his messy curls, his face full of conflict.

Seeing this, Roland laughed and rubbed his head.

Unlike the rigid dogma of church schools, the Knight Academy had always advocated "sword and knowledge in equal measure."

Because Roland personally vouched for him, the Halfling, whose coursework was excellent, quickly received leave from Instructor Reggie.

Of course, that was also thanks to the outstanding talent Roland had displayed recently.

If an ordinary student had vouched for Hobby, that strict instructor absolutely would not have relented so easily.

After settling the sailing arrangements for Wailing Gorge, Roland rushed to the Blacksmith Guild without stopping.

When he discovered that Noel's familiar figure was not at the front desk, he frowned.

After all, during Roland's time working at the Blacksmith Guild, this meticulous Dwarf had never abandoned his post. He had always performed his duties like a precise mechanical clock.

"Maybe something came up."

Roland guessed inwardly, then turned and walked toward Master Griffin's workshop.

Before he even drew close, a thunderous roar shook the corridor until it seemed to buzz.

"Noel! The iron post in the testing ground was split in two, and you knew nothing about it? Are you just decoration as an administrator?"

"Master, I swear... according to guild regulations, I left after sunset last night. At that time, all the facilities were perfectly intact..."

"Then tell me, which bastard split my iron post in half?"

"I... I truly..."

Griffin's roar echoed through the stone corridor. Even through the thick oak door, Roland could picture the old Dwarf's flushed face and flying spit.

And when he heard the key phrase "iron post in the testing ground," the corner of Roland's mouth twitched.

No one knew better than him what had happened to that iron post.

Yesterday, while testing his newly enchanted weapon, he had cut the scrap-iron testing post in two with one slash.

As for why he had not reported it immediately...

It was not that he wanted to shirk responsibility.

The equipment in the testing ground was meant for testing weapons, and damage was routine. At most, he would have to compensate the guild.

Besides, when he finished work last night, the guild had already been empty. He could not find anyone to report it to, which had led to the current misunderstanding.

Knock, knock, knock!

Thinking this, Roland politely tapped the door, but the crisp knocking was completely drowned out by the roaring.

He had no choice but to raise his fist and slam the door three times, hard enough that several wisps of dust fell from the frame.

"Which blind idiot is bothering me now? Can't you hear I'm busy?"

"It's me! Master Griffin..."

Facing Griffin's furious shout from inside, Roland had no choice but to raise his voice.

"Roland?"

As the words fell, the room sank into a brief silence.

The next moment, dull footsteps approached. The door opened, revealing Noel's haggard face.

The poor Dwarf was gently digging at his ear with a thick finger, clearly having been badly shaken by Griffin's roaring.

"Hello, Mr. Roland."

Even so, he still maintained elegant manners.

"Hello, Noel."

Roland looked at Noel with a little apology and nodded lightly, then walked straight inside.

A heavy smell of alcohol rushed toward him. Roland stood before the irritable Dwarven master.

"Master Griffin, I believe I need to explain something to you..."

Roland bowed slightly and spoke softly.

"The iron post in the testing ground was accidentally damaged by me yesterday while I was testing a newly forged tool."

Hearing this, joy flickered in Noel's eyes behind him, but he quickly lowered his head.

Griffin's reaction was much more direct.

The Dwarven forging master sneered, set down the wine flask in his hand, and raised his eyes to the young Human before him.

"You? Boy, I admit you have some talent in forging, but..."

The wine flask landed on the table with a clang.

"I don't believe something you forged could cut through that solid scrap-iron pillar!"

As he spoke, Griffin's gaze swept back and forth between Roland and Noel. He said in a muffled voice, "Looks like the two of you have a good relationship, huh? Now you've even learned to collude and fool this old fellow?"

"That is because..."

Although the [Enchanter] ability granted by the occupation panel was extremely powerful, the occupation itself had not appeared from nowhere.

As early as before the first year of the Final Era, ancient texts had already recorded weapon enchantment, and the race most skilled in the art was precisely the Dwarves.

Roland had originally intended to reveal his identity as an [Enchanter] to Griffin in order to gain this master's attention and perhaps obtain rare materials ordinary people could not reach.

But Griffin, still in a rage, directly interrupted him and roared at Noel beside him.

"What are you standing there for? Do I have to personally investigate this?"

"I... I will go right away, Master Griffin..."

Noel shivered. He lowered his head and answered, then hurried outside.

When he passed Roland, he cast him a grateful glance.

Noticing the gratitude in Noel's eyes, Roland shook his head helplessly.

"Speak, boy! What did you come to me for?"

Griffin tipped his head back and poured another large mouthful of wine down his throat.

Amid the gulping sounds, the sturdy Dwarf wiped the wine stains from his beard and asked roughly, "If you came to plead for that boy Noel, get lost before I swing my fist at you!"

Hearing this, Roland no longer dwelled on the matter of the iron post. He spoke calmly.

"Master Griffin, I wanted to ask whether the Blacksmith Guild has any channels to obtain rare metals such as mithril or adamantine."

"Ha! Mithril and adamantine? Your appetite isn't small, boy!"

Griffin originally wanted to mock him a little more, but thinking of Roland's forging talent and his identity as Hawk's apprentice, he still suppressed his temper and explained.

"Don't even talk about our place. Even in the northern Dwarven Kingdom, those things are rare as hell!"

"Adamantine is purely a matter of luck. If your luck is absurdly good, maybe you might stumble onto a few pieces. As for mithril..."

His thick finger tapped heavily against the wooden table, producing a dull thud.

"Even if it's relatively more common in the Dwarven Kingdom, all the veins are gripped tightly by those damned royal families! Don't talk about you being only an ordinary guild member..."

Griffin's voice was full of ridicule.

"Even if you were one of those forging masters with their noses in the air, you'd still have to bow and scrape, kowtow and plead, before expecting those royal sons of bitches to toss you a few scraps!"

Hearing this, Roland's frown deepened.

He was not entirely ignorant of the Dwarven Kingdom's social system.

It was somewhat similar to the noble system of the Golden Valley Kingdom, dividing people into strict ranks.

But compared with the Golden Valley Kingdom, where one could at least earn a title through military merit, the Dwarven Kingdom's class barriers were far harsher.

They relied on an almost rigid caste system.

Whichever class a person was born into nearly determined the path of their entire life, with almost no possibility of crossing it.

And Griffin's words revealed another key piece of information.

The authority held by the Dwarven royal families was far greater and more unquestionable than that of Human nobles.

"Even master craftsmen with exquisite skill have to live at the mercy of the royal family..."

Roland murmured inwardly. He shook his head helplessly, then probed, "Then... Master Griffin, what if one is an Enchanter?"

"Enchanter?"

Griffin raised his eyes.

"That's right."

Noticing that Griffin showed no surprise, Roland raised an eyebrow slightly and continued asking, "If someone used the identity of an Enchanter, could they obtain those rare metals?"

"Boy..."

Griffin narrowed his eyes.

"Although I don't know where you learned about Enchanters, but..."

The word [Enchanter] seemed to stir Griffin's memories.

The sturdy Dwarf did not investigate further. He only sighed deeply and waved his hand, somewhat dejected.

"In the past? An Enchanter might indeed have been treated as an honored guest by those royal sons of bitches. Back then, the people in power still had some sense in their heads. But now? Hmph..."

He savored the lingering taste of wine in his mouth, his voice carrying a note of powerlessness.

"To tell you the truth, even one year ago, or earlier, several Enchanters appeared in the Dwarven Kingdom. But even if their skills were unbelievably exquisite, those bastards still didn't take them seriously!"

"So even if you truly are some Enchanter..."

Griffin's tone was thick with sarcasm.

"If you want those precious lumps, you'll probably have to wag your tail like a lapdog and curry favor before you can trade for a few miserable pieces..."

At this point, reminiscence touched the Dwarven forging master's eyes, only to be replaced by exhaustion.

He waved his hand casually, as though driving away a fly.

"All right, boy. I still have work to do. You've wasted enough of my time..."

"I understand, Master Griffin. Thank you for your answer."

Hearing the intent to send him away, Roland dismissed the thought of revealing his [Enchanter] identity.

He bowed slightly and turned to leave the room.

As the door gently closed behind him, Roland's brow locked even tighter.

He had originally hoped to open a path through his identity as an [Enchanter], especially to obtain those rare metals.

But Griffin's words were like a bucket of cold water.

In the Dwarven Kingdom, the title of [Enchanter] seemed to have lost the weight it once possessed.

He sighed helplessly.

Before coming to the Blacksmith Guild, while accompanying Hobby to ask for leave, he had already asked Nielsen about this.

Even the River Kingdoms' merchant faction, flexible as they were in diplomacy, could not find any stable channel to obtain mithril or adamantine.

In the Dwarven Kingdom, these metals had clearly become strictly controlled strategic resources. A few pieces were only symbolically handed out during major festivals or displays of diplomatic friendship.

Thinking of this, Roland's hand moved to the hilt of the mithril longsword at his waist.

Viewed this way, the sword's value was probably far beyond what he had originally imagined.

"Ordinary metals simply can't endure surging mana... If I want rare metals, maybe I can only try using my identity as an A-rank adventurer team to ask the Adventurer's Guild for channels..."

Just as he was thinking silently, a series of dull footsteps interrupted him.

Raising his head, he saw Noel walking toward him.

When he saw Roland, the Dwarf's face bloomed into an enthusiastic smile.

This smile was different from the one he used when receiving guests. It held less professional politeness and more genuine sincerity.

"Mr. Roland."

"Noel..."

"Thank you for what happened just now."

Noel bowed slightly, then lowered his voice.

"I accidentally heard... that you need mithril? Please forgive my presumption..."

Noticing Roland's gaze, Noel hurriedly waved his hands and explained, "I did not mean to eavesdrop! It's just..."

He pointed at his ears, then gestured toward Griffin's tightly closed door. The meaning was obvious.

With Griffin's thunderous voice, it would have been hard not to hear clearly.

Roland did not care about that. The implication hidden in Noel's tone made his eyes brighten slightly, and he asked softly, "Noel, from what you're saying... do you have a way to obtain these rare metals?"

"To tell you the truth..."

Noel scratched his head, somewhat embarrassed.

"In the Dwarven Kingdom, my family operates a mithril vein. Aside from the complete ores handed over to the royal family, daily operations always leave some... mm... fragments."

Seeing Roland's expression, the well-mannered Dwarf hurriedly added, "Please do not misunderstand! These fragments are not waste slag. They are just... not of the very best grade, and their sizes are a bit small."

Noel's meaning could not have been clearer.

Roland's heartbeat quickened slightly, but his face remained calm. He only asked evenly, "In that case, why don't you sell them to others? I imagine..."

A faint smile lifted at the corner of his mouth, and his sharp gaze locked onto Noel.

"Even if the grade is slightly inferior, mithril should never lack buyers, correct?"

"I will speak honestly, Mr. Roland..."

Noel gently shook his head.

"There are very few of these fragments, and... only Dwarves possess the craft of refining mithril. So there actually are not many people who truly recognize the goods and are willing to buy them."

Roland nodded in understanding and no longer circled the topic.

"Then say it directly, Noel. What price must I pay to obtain these mithril fragments?"

Hearing such a direct question, Noel showed no joy. Instead, his expression became awkward.

But recalling the instructions from his father and elder brother, the Dwarf's cheeks flushed slightly. His fingers rubbed together, and his voice carried apology.

"Just... coins will do, Mr. Roland."

This request made Roland raise an eyebrow.

He had thought the other party would seize the chance to make some harsh demand, but unexpectedly, Noel only wanted money.

Although they had not yet discussed the price, Roland knew perfectly well that mithril gripped firmly by the Dwarven royal family would absolutely not be cheap, even in fragments.

But for him right now, that was not a problem.

"Only coins..."

Roland had already made his decision, but on the surface, he still pretended to ponder.

"That isn't difficult. However... I must first see whether those fragments meet my needs."

"You can rest assured on that point!"

Seeing Roland relent, Noel let out a long breath of relief. Clearly, conducting this kind of private transaction made him very uncomfortable.

"I will notify my family and have them send over a few sample pieces for you to inspect first. After you confirm the quality of the goods, we can discuss the price."

"Good."

Looking at the other party's unpracticed negotiating manner, Roland laughed softly and nodded, extending his hand.

"Then it's settled, Noel. I look forward to working with you."