Chapter 654 – Apprentice Dilemma.

“A city wi’ all manner o’ folk bein’ judged by the strength o’ their craft an’ not some dusty lineage? Hah! That’s a fine tale ye spin. Interestin’, aye… but I’ve hammered steel long enough to ken when a thing’s too good to be true. There’s no such place in this wide, cracked world.”

Hasim laughed while holding his stomach.

“Them human nobles always have a scheme brewin’. Mark me words, they’re just usin’ the lot of ye to lay the stone and pave the ways. Then once the last brick’s set, they’ll toss the workers out like slag from a smelter.“

“Are you calling me a liar?”

Roland responded in an offended tone. He had not expected so much pushback about Albrook, but it seemed these people had been living under a massive rock called the super dungeon for quite some time. The kingdom beyond it was not a good place to live. Slavery and prejudice were considered normal there, so the idea that a city could rise that rejected at least part of such practices was beyond their comprehension.

“No. You seem like a reasonable sort, but I think you’ve simply been fooled by a silver tongue.”

“Fooled?”

Roland repeated what Hasim had claimed. The old dwarf did not believe his description of Albrook and instead assumed rumors and promises from the human nobility had deceived him. Roland could not entirely blame him. Hasim was far below the surface in a dungeon, where adventurers made the rules rather than nobles. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had chosen to remain there, to distance himself from human authority and the laws imposed on other races.

“Aye, well…we’ve talked long enough. Could ye grant me just a wee glimpse? Just a peek, mind ye. No need for the others to hear of it. My lips are sealed tighter than a dwarven vault.”

“No.”

“Will ye not think on it again? I’m certain we could strike a fair bargain. We could trade ye somethin’ proper from our own halls…

“I doubt I could find anything there that would fit me. This armor was tailor-made for me. It would not be of much use to anyone else.”

Roland’s armor was examined closely by the dwarven craftsmen. Their expressions shifted when they noticed the runes and the quality of the craftsmanship. Although he was flattered by their reaction, they seemed eager to strip him of it and study it piece by piece to uncover its secrets. They detected the gravity magic it generated and were astonished by the sheer output, far beyond that of ordinary magical tools.

To them, it made no sense that the armor functioned at all, and in truth they were correct. Without his multiple passive skills that reduced the mana cost of rune equipment and spells, he would never have been able to use it. However, he did not wish to tell them that. If they examined it more closely, they would probably figure out that he possessed such skills to power it, and that was not something he wanted them to discover.

“But I’m sure the craftsman in Albrook would be willing to trade secrets.”

“Aye, that would be a fine thing, truly, but…”

At the time, both Hasim and Roland were in a side chamber. Roland was surrounded by other tier three craftsmen who were trying to decipher his runes but failing. It also seemed that their master wished to exchange some knowledge, yet he was unable to do so.

“Aye, ’tis a shame, but I’m anchored to this dungeon. I cannot be leavin’ …

“I see.”

This was something Roland had expected. Hasim had a duty to uphold in this stronghold and could not simply leave. The adventurers might not even allow it. The backlog for powerful weapons was tremendous, and a journey to Albrook would take around a week. During that time, he would be leaving the other craftsmen under the adventurers’ scrutiny and potentially inviting more incidents like the one with Ermes.

Even though Ermes was only part of the smithy and not particularly talented, Hasim treated all of them as his disciples. That was another thing Roland had noticed. The man treated his workers quite well. Though his tone was harsh and he even struck them when they failed, if an adventurer threatened them, he was always there to protect them.

‘Apprentices and disciples, huh?’

As they were talking, Roland glanced at the people around them. Some were young, others old, but one thing was certain: they all revered their master. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to have apprentices of his own. Bernir was more of an assistant and now a man standing on his own feet, so Roland saw him more as a friend or coworker than a disciple he had taught. For someone to truly become his apprentice, that person would need to take up the mantle of a true runesmith and inherit the rune knowledge he had amassed.

There were advantages and disadvantages to having an apprentice, and many ways a master could approach it in this world. Some provided vast resources to push their students’ progress. Others offered nothing beyond basic work, knowing that even shaping a horseshoe would increase skill, leaving everything to the individual and the world’s system to guide them.

Roland was no stranger to teaching. He had spent time at the Institute doing exactly that. Yet he had never truly taught anyone the craft of creating runes. There were many reasons. He was naturally paranoid and a loner at heart. If he could do something himself, he preferred not to involve others, as that created debts, responsibilities, and attachments.

Attachments were dangerous. They created weaknesses, expectations, and obligations. If he taught someone everything he knew, that person could become an invaluable ally or a blade aimed at his back. It was a risk he had chosen to avoid because it seemed too troublesome. Still, after seeing this well-run smithy, he began to wonder whether he could use some help.

Albrook was expanding, yet only a handful of people worked in his workshop. Bernir and his wife handled most of the regular smithing tasks while Roland focused on planning and runes. Much of his workload depended on the dwarven union, but having help with some of his greater secrets could prove advantageous and save a great deal of time.

‘An apprentice, but who could I trust?’

Finding willing apprentices would not be difficult. If he posted an official notice, swarms of craftsmen would appear from nowhere. The chance to work under a tier three craftsman was something every aspiring blacksmith dreamed of. However, such an opportunity would also invite spies from Arthur’s brothers, or worse, candidates who could be blackmailed or bought for information.

‘Maybe I should find someone who couldn’t betray me?’

At first, he did not have anyone in mind, but suddenly, a certain face appeared in his thoughts, someone within this compound. She and her father were not in the room with them, yet he could see her dot on his helmet display. Millie was already indebted to him, and if he revealed that he was the one who had saved her father from certain doom in the dungeon, she would feel even more obligated. The girl seemed headstrong and principled, but as he continued down that line of thinking, a sour taste filled his mouth.

‘What am I even doing? Planning to blackmail a teenage girl into becoming my apprentice?’

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He forced himself to stop. He did not like where those thoughts were leading. In his paranoia, he was forgetting that these were still people. Roland had grown used to seeing others as points on a graph. He could select someone with potential, but he could never truly know what would happen ten years from now. Betrayal was always a possibility, and if he allowed himself to fear it constantly, he would never get past that barrier or take on even a single new worker.

‘That is not how a master should choose a disciple.’

Using debt as a leash. Leveraging gratitude. Revealing secrets to bind someone through obligation. It was efficient, safe, and logical, but it was also exactly the kind of manipulation he despised in the nobles. Hasim’s earlier words about them echoed in his mind, and he decided to reconsider his approach.

‘A little trust and generosity go a long way, provided I choose the right person and draft the right contract.’

Roland’s gaze drifted toward the door where Millie stood. He knew he might never fully cast aside his paranoia, but he could at least try to do better if he truly intended to take on an apprentice. Still, other matters needed to be settled before he took that step.

“Master Hasim, would you like me to relay this to the Albrook Master Runesmith? I am sure he will make the trip here eventually, though it could take a few weeks, perhaps even a month or two.”

“Weeks?”

Hasim raised an eyebrow. At first, Roland wondered if he was offended, but the reaction seemed quite the opposite.

“That’s a bit fast for a lad who forged such a fine suit o’ plate, ain’t it? Ye must know him well to trust ye like that…”

It seemed Hasim assumed that a Master Runesmith capable of creating such an exquisite suit of armor would be swamped with work and unable to travel for several months, perhaps even up to a year. That suggested Siegfried, his current persona, must have some influence or leverage that could persuade the man to come sooner.

“Ah, yes. We have some history, and he is willing to trade crafting knowledge with other craftsmen.”

“Aye, well, he certainly ain’t a dwarf. Makes things easier.”

Hasim laughed. Dwarves were often bound by contracts and reluctant to share their knowledge because of their traditions. Human craftsmen, however, were not bound in quite the same way. The old dwarf’s laughter faded, and he stepped closer again.