Arthur left the base, but the training continued as planned.
According to the previous arrangements, the militia took over the responsibility of training the new recruits.
Although the efficiency dropped a bit, the progress wasn't too slow thanks to the support of the Data Panel.
In comparison, the progress on Little Tyler's side was what you'd call painfully slow. The blacksmith apprentice's productivity plummeted by half in the days following Arthur's departure.
However, the overflow experience from the Data Panel helped make up for the gap.
Ten days later, Little Tyler and the other apprentices had already reached the skill level of a proper military blacksmith.
It didn't take long for Little Tyler to notice something odd—these new apprentices seemed to be just as "gifted" as he was.
He recalled something Arthur had once said: "As long as there's enough material, even a pig can become a decent blacksmith."
At first, Tyler had secretly mocked Arthur for saying something so ridiculous. But now, it was clear—he was the foolish one.
Once he realized this, his attitude completely changed.
If blacksmithing wasn't going to be some exclusive skill he could monopolize, then he might as well just follow orders and avoid making trouble for himself.
If the Data Panel could display loyalty, Little Tyler's loyalty score would have gone up by at least 50% at that moment.
Meanwhile, in Sentinel City, Arthur was able to keep tabs on the base's progress through the Data Panel.
He was satisfied with how effective his methods of managing people were turning out.
Toying with the son of a rural blacksmith wasn't exactly an impressive feat, but this was just the beginning.
The next day, Arthur began wandering the streets of Sentinel City.
As the largest city in the region, it was bustling with people. Nobles gathered here in droves, the streets were lined with shops, and resources were abundant.
But Arthur knew better than to overstep his bounds.
His knightly title was nothing more than a ticket to enter the game. Reputation, strength, and price—those were the real factors that mattered here.
He wasn't planning to buy a huge amount of iron ore all at once.
Little Tyler's daily consumption was only about 9 pounds, so the short-term demand wasn't that high.
Fortunately, Sentinel City had a steady supply of iron ore, and the prices were stable.
With no wars breaking out recently, the cost of iron ore was just 10 copper coins per pound, with a yield rate of about one-third.
Doing the math, the cost of one pound of iron came out to roughly 30 copper coins. On the market, iron products typically sold for 40 to 50 copper coins per pound.
Sounds like a decent profit, right?
But once you factor in labor, fuel, and transportation costs, it's really just a grind for small margins.
Arthur planned to purchase 2,000 pounds of iron ore, which would cost him about 200 silver coins.
This amount of ore would produce roughly 700 pounds of iron, enough to forge 700 to 800 spearheads.
The market price for those spearheads would be around 300 silver coins. However, it would take three rookie blacksmiths two to three months to finish the job.
Even after deducting labor and material costs—about 10 silver coins—the net profit would only be around 80 silver coins.
Arthur understood that while this might look like a decent return, the reality was far less optimistic.
Feeding and housing dozens of people, plus the upkeep of horses, cost at least 3 gold coins a month. Over three months, the profits would barely cover the expenses.
Of course, maintaining such a large group wasn't just about making money.
Most nobles wouldn't bother keeping so many people around, but Arthur's goals were never about short-term gains.
For him, money was just a resource. Building up his strength was the real priority.
With three well-trained squads of soldiers under his command, even Baron Ashford would have to take him seriously.
Arthur set his sights on his goal and quickly purchased a cartload of iron ore.
The quantity wasn't large enough to attract any attention.
In Sentinel City, he was just another insignificant figure, a nobody in the grand scheme of things.
But Arthur knew this wouldn't last for long.
The creaking cart slowly made its way back to Stonefield Village.
Walter still wasn't convinced about Arthur's insistence on training blacksmiths.
Although he had lent Arthur the training grounds, he rarely visited anymore. Keeping a certain distance seemed to be his way of maintaining familial ties without getting too involved.
The round trip to Sentinel City had taken nearly a month.
Even so, the gap in levels among the soldiers at the base hadn't widened much. The new recruits were hovering between levels 3 and 5, while the veterans were only slightly ahead at levels 5 to 7. Surprisingly, it was the blacksmiths who had made the most noticeable progress.
Tyler
Profession: Military Blacksmith, Level 4 (23/100)
Experience Pool: 25/100
The other two blacksmith apprentices had also reached level 2.
When Little Tyler saw Arthur again, he bowed even lower than before.
"How many spearheads can you forge in a day now?" Arthur asked.
"About ten or so," Little Tyler replied, his tone carrying a hint of pride. "I've improved a bit recently, and with the help of the two apprentices, we can manage ten or more spearheads a day."
Arthur nodded and then said, "Try forging a few iron swords. Use the iron ore I brought back. A good blacksmith can't improve without practice."
"You're absolutely right!" Little Tyler responded with confidence. "I've been improving faster here than I ever did in ten years under my father. I've already got some ideas for making swords, but I might need a few tries to get it right."
Arthur smiled, clearly satisfied.
He knew, however, that Little Tyler's talent was nearing its limit.
The daily progress was becoming negligible, sometimes even stalling entirely.
Without the overflow experience from the Data Panel, this guy would probably never make it past level 5 in his lifetime.
Even with the accelerated growth provided by the Data Panel, he'd likely cap out at level 5—about the same level as his father.
But that didn't matter.
An iron sword required about 3 to 5 pounds of material, costing only 1 to 2 silver coins to produce, yet it could sell for 5 silver coins.
Even if they could only forge one sword a day, the profit margin was still double.
Of course, this was only feasible if the blacksmith's level reached 5.
Below level 5, a blacksmith was essentially just a rural craftsman, earning no more than 2 or 3 gold coins a year.
But a level 5 blacksmith? That was someone who had truly "made it." Such a craftsman could generate at least 40 to 50 gold coins' worth of value annually.
Now that was where the real money was.
Arthur couldn't help but reflect: increasing the value of the product was the key to making real profits.
Otherwise, 50 gold coins was already the annual output of a small estate.
Once all three blacksmiths could forge iron swords, and with a few apprentices assisting, they could generate 150 gold coins a year.
That kind of income would be enough to support six or seven squads of soldiers.
Of course, after factoring in various expenses, realistically, it would be enough to sustain four or five squads.
After assigning tasks to the blacksmiths, Arthur returned to his own training.
He understood deeply that everything depended on having enough strength to protect what he built. Without it, a business like this would attract too much envy and trouble.
In this feudal society, nobles controlled the foundational resources, and any expansion had to be done within the boundaries of the established rules.
A month and a half later, after countless failures, Little Tyler finally succeeded in forging his first iron sword.
Compared to the cheap spears, the value of an iron sword was significantly higher.
As dozens of iron swords were completed, the iron ore was nearly depleted.
By this point, three months had passed.
Arthur's gold coins had also been reduced by nearly half.
Staying here any longer would inevitably draw unwanted attention.
Arthur knew it was time to find a place he could truly call his own.