Little Tyler had been in an unusually good state lately, as if some invisible force was driving him forward.
His blacksmithing skills were improving by leaps and bounds, and every day brought new bursts of inspiration.
Each time he struck the iron, he discovered better ways to refine his craft. At times, he even felt like his skills were catching up to his father's.
"Could it be… my father's skills were just too mediocre, holding back my talent?" he couldn't help but mutter to himself.
As his skills advanced rapidly, a hint of pride began to creep into Little Tyler's heart.
But that inflated sense of self didn't last long.
Arthur, as if sensing the change in him, deliberately slowed down the pace of blacksmithing tasks, giving Tyler time to cool off.
Gradually, Little Tyler came to realize that while his progress was fast, he was still far from being a true master blacksmith.
A month passed—not too long, but not short either. The villagers didn't expect Little Tyler to achieve anything extraordinary in such a short time. After all, blacksmithing was a craft that required years of practice and accumulation.
Arthur, however, had a different perspective.
He knew that with the help of the Data Panel, Little Tyler's growth far outpaced that of an ordinary person.
A month of effort for him was equivalent to six months of progress for someone else.
"We can't stay stuck here forever," Arthur thought to himself as he stood at the village entrance, gazing into the distance.
He knew that if he wanted to grow his team, relying on the few silver coins Little Tyler earned each day wouldn't cut it.
Even though they had stockpiled over twenty spearheads, that amount of inventory was nowhere near enough to support his plans.
Arthur glanced down at the coins in his hand.
His total assets amounted to fifty gold coins, ten of which he had set aside as emergency funds. The remaining forty needed to be converted into strength as soon as possible.
He had already started planning his next move—expanding his team.
"Recruit twenty more people?" Walter nearly jumped out of his seat when he heard the idea.
Walter, Arthur's uncle, was a practical man. When Arthur shared his plan, Walter couldn't help but frown.
"Arthur, have you lost your mind? Feeding and paying dozens of people—how long do you think your little stash of money will last?" Walter's tone was filled with obvious disapproval.
Arthur, however, remained calm. He understood that his uncle's concerns weren't unfounded, but he had his own plans.
Walter continued to press him. "Listen to me. Train the soldiers you already have first, and then figure out a way to make more money. Recruiting soldiers is easy, but keeping them fed and loyal? That's the hard part. Without a stable source of income, loyalty won't last."
Walter's advice wasn't baseless.
The Ashford family, a powerful noble house, maintained a formal guard of over a hundred men and eight knights. On top of that, they could summon militia at any time, easily forming a force of five hundred.
But behind all of that was a vast estate and industries to support it. Without those resources, the family's army would collapse in no time.
Arthur understood this reality, but he still stuck to his plan.
To avoid further interference from his uncle, he even fabricated a harmless lie. "Uncle, I've already accepted a long-term escort mission. We'll be leaving soon. These soldiers will stay here to train for now, and I'll take them with me when I'm ready."
"An escort mission?" Walter looked skeptical. "You're not being scammed, are you? Who offers such a sweet deal?"
Arthur smiled faintly and replied with a mysterious air, "I swear on my honor as a knight, it's legitimate. It's a connection from Count Avington's side." He deliberately dropped the name of Count Avington, successfully dispelling Walter's doubts.
"Well, aren't you impressive, knowing such reliable people." Walter's tone carried a mix of admiration and envy, though he didn't press further. Arthur didn't seem like someone who had lost his mind, after all.
Arthur knew that noble rule came with both advantages and drawbacks.
In the Avington family's territory, recruiting soldiers without the constable's cooperation was nearly impossible.
Little Tyler's recruitment, in fact, had only been possible because of a single word from Walter. Otherwise, Tyler would never have "volunteered" to follow Arthur.
Now, Arthur had already recruited the best young men in the village. If he wanted to expand his team further, he would either have to lower his recruitment standards or travel farther to find new recruits.
After arranging the training schedule, Arthur assigned two apprentices to Little Tyler and made it clear that Tyler would be personally responsible for training them.
For Little Tyler, this was a heavy blow.
In this era, blacksmithing skills were considered a family's most prized secret, rarely shared with outsiders.
Being asked to teach others his craft felt like having his core value stripped away.
Despite his deep reluctance, Little Tyler had no choice but to grudgingly agree under the combined pressure of Arthur and Walter.
He knew he didn't have a say in the matter—whether he wanted to or not, he had to comply.
Arthur was fully aware of this.
He knew that, at first, Little Tyler wouldn't put his heart into training the apprentices. But Arthur wasn't in a rush.
Time would teach Little Tyler that training apprentices wasn't just a task—it was a crucial part of his own growth.
Arthur believed that, given enough time, Tyler would eventually find his rhythm.
The Data Panel gave Arthur a significant edge over others, but he also understood that it wasn't a magic solution to every problem.
Many things still had to be figured out step by step. Mistakes were inevitable, but it was precisely because he had more opportunities to learn from failure that he could go further than others.
A few days later, Arthur added everyone under his command to the Data Panel, ensuring that he could monitor their progress at all times.
Afterward, he set out on a journey with a group of new recruits, leaving the remaining soldiers behind to continue their training.
This time, Arthur's destination was Sentinel City—the second-largest city in the northern province and the most bustling trade hub in the region.
The city was governed by officials appointed by the kingdom and even housed a detachment of the royal army.
For Arthur, this wasn't just a chance to broaden his horizons but also an important trial.
Of course, he wasn't heading there empty-handed.
He brought along a cart loaded with 2,000 pounds of wheat bran.
In the Ashford family's territory, wheat bran was dirt cheap, worth no more than a copper coin per pound—sometimes even less if bought wholesale.
But in Sentinel City, the same wheat bran could fetch a profit of half a copper coin per pound. A full cartload could earn him 1,000 copper coins. While the profit wasn't huge, it was easy money, and Arthur wasn't one to turn his nose up at it.
As for why he didn't bring more grain?
The answer was simple—grain trading was the Ashford family's core business.
Within the family's territory, no one could challenge their monopoly.
The fact that Arthur managed to gather 2,000 pounds of wheat bran was already thanks to the privileges of his noble status.
If he weren't the son of Baron Ashford, he'd likely have been thrown into a ditch for even trying.
Still, making money wasn't Arthur's primary goal for this trip—it was about gaining experience.
He hired a driver and bought a cart, laying the groundwork for future trade caravans.
Though this makeshift caravan was far from professional, it was a start.
News of Arthur's venture quickly reached Baron Ashford. The baron merely glanced at the report before tossing it aside, clearly uninterested.
...
Along the way, Arthur had secretly hoped to encounter some bandits or highwaymen, thinking it would be a good opportunity for his new recruits to get some combat experience. But he soon realized that his escort team was far too overqualified.
A dozen well-trained soldiers guarding a single cart of grain? It didn't take a genius to see that this wasn't an ordinary merchant caravan.
The bandits lurking along the roadside clearly didn't think it was worth risking their lives for a cartload of grain worth a few dozen silver coins, especially against a well-equipped team.
And so, the journey was uneventful—almost boring. After ten days of slow, steady travel, Arthur's caravan finally arrived at its destination: Sentinel City.
Sentinel City was the first true city Arthur had seen since arriving in this world.
Even though he had mentally prepared himself, he was still awestruck when he stood before its gates. Towering walls, bustling trade caravans, and throngs of people—it was a sight to behold.
In comparison, Count Avington's castle seemed small and even a bit shabby.
The gate guards quickly noticed the triangular flag on Arthur's cart—a symbol of nobility.
While they didn't give him any trouble, they still charged a symbolic entry fee of fifty copper coins. Arthur paid without complaint and entered the city.
However, his excitement was quickly dampened by a harsh dose of reality.
The moment he stepped through the gates, he accidentally stepped in a pile of… something unpleasant. The foul stench hit him immediately, and he grimaced in disgust.
"Who the hell just leaves their crap lying around?" he muttered under his breath, his mood instantly souring.
The poor sanitation in the countryside had already been a headache for him, but he hadn't expected the city to be even worse. On his own estate, Arthur had always enforced strict hygiene standards, but here, it was clear no one cared.
"This world is so… different," Arthur thought, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He knew complaining wouldn't help—adapting was the only way forward.
Once inside, Arthur quickly sold the wheat bran to one of the Ashford family's trading houses.
Though the profit was modest, the transaction gave him a basic understanding of how commerce worked in the city.
Afterward, he checked into an inn and began planning his next steps.
Arthur had two main objectives for this trip: first, to gain experience and use the journey as a training exercise; and second, to find a reliable source of iron ore.