Full-Time Wizard: Starting with Harvesting Wheat

"Did you... find anything?" The four of them stepped into Old John's private forging room. Old John placed the iron sword that Roy and Gerald had forged together steadily on the workbench and glanced at everyone.

Holheim and Chicas exchanged a puzzled look, unsure of who Old John was asking this seemingly random question.

To their astonishment, Gerald, who was usually arrogant and dismissive of others as mere trivia, actually stepped forward, lowered his head slightly, and said in a deep voice, "Yes."

"What...what did he eat?" Chicas couldn't help but tug at Hohenheim's sleeve and asked in a low voice.

"Roy... although he still has many shortcomings, I have to admit that his forging skills are already superior to mine." Gerald took a deep breath, his tone carrying an unprecedented frankness.

The two, unaware of the situation, were extremely surprised, while old John, as if he had expected it, nodded calmly.

"Is there anything else?"

Gerald's gaze swept over the iron sword on the table with a complex expression: "That design was originally the skeleton I drew based on the standard longsword. It was Roy who made the key improvements, which raised the quality of the final product to a whole new level."

"Wait, you mean, this child designed that iron sword?!"

Holheim and Chikas were completely dumbfounded, staring blankly at the little man beside them.

At just over 1.5 meters tall and 13 years old, whether comparing physique or experience, he is undoubtedly a child!

At that age, Gerald was basically just doing the simplest tasks for old John.

"I only made improvements to the original design. At most, I'm standing on the shoulders of giants. I can't build a skyscraper from scratch," Roy said modestly.

"Standing on the shoulders of giants?" Gerald shook his head in shame, feeling that he was far from being a "giant".

Old John was satisfied, even a little surprised. Who knew how much Roy had contributed to the forging process, making Gerald look so smooth and even?

Then, old John gestured for Roy to come forward and explain in detail the details and ideas behind the improved design.

At first, Roy simply followed the suggestions given by the Eye of True Sight and did not fully understand its deeper meaning. However, after three days of hands-on practice and Gerald's annotations on the design drawings, he explained things clearly and logically.

"...My knowledge base is not yet extensive enough, so I can only explain it to this extent for now."

Finally, Roy added a slightly apologetic remark.

A brief silence fell over the forge. Old John, Holheim, and Chicas all had their heads slightly lowered, as if they were still processing what Roy had just said.

Their extensive experience is like a human blacksmith's library, and they have even more ideas to share.

Roy's insight was like a tiny spark that instantly ignited the books in the entire library, sparking a burst of inspiration among them.

After hastily jotting down a few flashes of inspiration, old John picked up the iron sword again, feeling its well-proportioned weight and its imposing sharpness.

"What a fine sword!"

"Indeed." Holheim came to his senses and gave a fair assessment, "While he may not be strong enough to support a true knight in battle, he is certainly qualified to be sold to a knight's squire."

"This sword..." Old John pondered, his gaze slowly shifting between Gerald and Roy before finally settling on Roy. He made a solemn decision: "Not for sale."

"Not for sale!?" Everyone except Old John was visibly shocked.

They all knew the market price of a fine iron sword.

If four copper coins could buy a pound of black bread, then an ordinary iron sword could be sold for 20-30 silver dollars in the hands of an expert, equivalent to 2000-3000 copper coins, while a fine iron sword like the one in Old John's possession could even fetch 50 silver dollars.

A family of three, eating black bread and a small amount of complementary food each month, would only consume about 3 silver coins a month. 50 silver coins would undoubtedly be a huge sum of money.

Besides, if you encounter someone who has plenty of money, raising the price by another 50% shouldn't be a problem.

Hohenheim and Chicas were not wealthy. After completing their apprenticeships, they made ordinary iron tools for Old John, who paid them wages, which prevented their families from objecting to their continued work as blacksmiths.

Nowadays, even hearing such an amount makes my heart tremble involuntarily!

"If it's not for sale, does that mean... it's going to be hung up as a sign?"

Old John still shook his head.

His gaze shifted to Gerald: "Gerald, I know you often go to the cemetery to practice your swordsmanship with those young men who want to become knights."

Even if Gerald intended to conceal his whereabouts, this would be discovered quickly. Old John's connections are spread throughout Lanxi Town, so it's not surprising that he knows where Gerald has been.

"And Roy." He turned to the boy who had amazed him countless times. "I know you went there with Gerald the other day when you said you wanted to study locks."

Upon hearing this, Roy couldn't help but show an embarrassed expression.

"Your hearts are not on the anvil and the fire, so I let you be, thinking that when the lord's summons arrives in twenty days, you will see for yourselves the difference between yourselves and others, and then you will come back to work with peace of mind."

"But Gerald must have noticed it too..."

As he spoke, old John suddenly reached out and grabbed Roy's wrist with lightning speed, pulling up the sleeve on his hand.

In an instant, the bulging muscles that were so disproportionate to the boy's slender frame were clearly exposed to everyone's eyes.

Roy instinctively struggled, and Old John's steady arm swayed slightly, almost unable to hold on.

Roy's strength is 2.3, and Old John's is 2.8, which is almost the same.

"I noticed that." Gerald nodded silently. During the forging process, he discovered that Roy's strength was clearly much greater than his own, and he could perfectly match his strength and control the rhythm excellently.

Moreover, his strength did not increase overnight; it seemed to grow gradually every day.

Gerrard was terrified by this terrifying growth potential.

Roy's forging skills were indeed superb, but that wasn't what truly extinguished his arrogance.

Rather, he realized that he was no longer as strong as Roy!

This means that as long as Roy participates in the draft, and with Delock in front of him, he will have no hope.

He is already sixteen years old. If he fails to be drafted this time, there will be no next time.

After being recruited and undergoing a series of tests, the young men who meet the prerequisites will be bestowed with their family's secret breathing technique by the lord. They will then use this breathing technique to gradually improve their physique and strength.

Those with talent, after reaching the pinnacle of breathing techniques, can condense the seed of life at the critical moment of life and death, and officially step into the ranks of knights.

The most crucial point about practicing breathing techniques is that the efficiency drops significantly after the age of sixteen... This is why recruitment is limited to those under sixteen.

"I have a feeling," Old John said, releasing Roy's arm with unwavering certainty, a confidence honed by years of experience. "Roy, you will be sent to the lord's manor through this conscription."

"You will... become a knight's squire."

"Knights," Hohenheim and Chicas murmured, repeating the word that was somewhat unfamiliar to them.

Every boy has a dream of being a knight since childhood, but it may be shattered by family factors or cut short by his own talent. They all dream of spreading their wings and soaring, but in the end, it all comes to nothing.

Although they didn't understand knights, that didn't prevent them from understanding the intention behind Old John's words.

Old John gently traced the sharp edge of the iron sword with his fingertips, looking at Roy: "You don't even have a decent wooden sword now, do you?"

Roy's heart skipped a beat, as if he had a premonition of something, and he looked intently at old John.

"This sword, which you helped forge, and which you could even say was born of you," Old John solemnly handed the iron sword to Roy, "Do you want it?"

"Yes!" Roy answered without hesitation!

Old John looked at the light shining in the boy's eyes and smiled slightly: "I will personally make you a scabbard that fits your body... but remember this."

His tone suddenly became serious and heavy: "Once the iron sword is drawn, it will inevitably draw blood."

The other three listened dumbfounded as Old John decided who would get the iron sword, their minds still buzzing.

That's fifty taels of silver!

So... he gave it away?

Finally, Holheim and Chicas suppressed their shock and asked old John if they could stay a few more days to properly process and digest the inspiration they had just gained from Roy's explanation.

Old John readily agreed.

He glanced at the triumphant Roy and the somewhat dejected Gerald.

His voice was deep.

"You two, stop standing there!"

"Come here! Help me process the lord's orders!"