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For my Blacksmithing course, I was pointed to a more… industrial… section of the school, for lack of a better word.
When I reached the building where the Blacksmithing class was to be held, me and a bunch of students found ourselves standing in front of a warehouse with multiple thick chimneys sprouting from its top.
After entering a room with multiple identical workstations in orderly rows, I looked around to check out my classmates, after a while of looking around, I noticed there were only guys around, and a distinct lack of house coat of arms on any of their uniforms, meaning they were commoners or nobles like me who did not bother putting my family’s coat of arms on my uniform, so I can assume the counselor was telling the truth, nobles really don’t go for jobs like blacksmithing.
When it was about time for class to start, a door next to the teacher’s workbench opened, and with that door opening, revealed a workshop that released a cacophony of noise, hammer blows, files rasping, the sound of molten metal splashing, and other unknown sounds of industry. All those sounds were cut off when the door closed behind an auburn-bearded dwarf whose arms were thicker than my thighs.
Curious of such perfect noise isolation, I poured mana into my eyes to take a look, what I saw was the whole wall was covered in an array, but I could not see it clearly, most likely because the array was on the other side of the wall. The only array I could see was the one on the door, but besides the structure of the array, the runes within the structure were obscured from my sight.
Before I could analyze the array further, the dwarf introduced himself, “Good afternoon lads, my name be Haldor Steelbeard, and I will be teaching you the basics of blacksmithing. And before any of you ask, No, I will not teach you the techniques of dwarven smithing, and if you keep insisting on me or any other dwarf, you are looking for a beat down.” Haldor said with a tinge of seriousness in the part about the beat down.
After Haldor stared us down, or up in this case due to him being the shortest in the class, he shouted at us to each take a seat at a workstation.
When we all got to our seats, Haldor started, “Alright, unlike other courses where they yap on and on about the greatness of their subject, you all know why you are here, you are here to learn the sacred art of turning metal into something great, be it the humble nail used in carpentry, all the way to a mastercraft weapon. You are learning the art that builds and destroys empires, and before I allow any of you to so much as breathe near one of my ingots, you are going to get to know your tools and how to use them.”
We were then introduced to our tools, the humble anvil and the function of its different parts, tongs, and many types of hammers. Once introductions to our tools were over, it was time for some familiarization with said tools, we were each given a crumpled piece of scrap metal and instructed to beat it flat while Haldor walked around to give instructions and correct mistakes.
When the bell rang, Haldor shouted to the class, “Alright, good day of practice. Next class, we will start on some theory of metals and their properties, followed by a practical lesson on the basic techniques. Class dismissed.”
After putting the tools back in their place, I wipe the sweat from my forehead and stretch my arms. All this hammering has sufficiently warmed me up and I feel ready to take on my last class of the day, Advanced Combat & Tactics.
***
Before making my way to the training grounds where the lesson is being held, I go back to my dorm room and get changed into what counts for PE attire as per the recommendation in the notes for this course, which is a simple shirt emblazoned with the academy’s crest on the back and long pants, all made out of some thick fabric.
I get to the training grounds ahead of time and it seems like this lesson is like Advanced Spell Theory, pretty much the whole Year 5 cohort that preferred swing weapons around was attending this class.
When I arrived at the training grounds, most people did not have any reaction to my arrival, but I noticed a few familiar, and even some unfamiliar faces talking while looking at me, and surprise surprise, most of them had a coat of arms over the left side of their chest, in other words, nobles.
This most likely means word of me beating up those 3 chuckle fucks in the morning has made its rounds.
Not wanting to bother myself with this schoolyard bullshit, I take a seat on a bench to wait for class to start.
While kicking some dirt to pass the time, the training grounds become oddly silent as everyone seems to be looking in my direction, and then I hear the sound of multiple footsteps coming in my direction.
When I turn toward the footsteps, I see Oswald, his 2 lackeys, and 12 other boys behind them. All of them strutting their stuff as they puff themselves up and walk towards me menacingly… Well, as menacingly as a bunch of 12 year old boys can be.
When the bunch of boys came up to me, I lazily got up from my seat, cracked my knuckles, and walked toward them, as Oswald opened his mouth to say something, I interrupted him, “From the amount of backup you brought, I see you did not learn your lesson this morning, you here to take this bench too?”
Slightly thrown off from me interrupting him, he paused for a bit to register what I said before going red in the face and growling out, “Come to the storeroom after class.”
At this blatant command to call me into an ambush, I raised an eyebrow while wondering how stupid they thought I was before answering lazily, “Nah, don't feel like it. I’m flattered, but I don’t swing that way, you boys can go and have your gay orgy.”
Apparently, I replied loud enough that quite a number of other people heard it and started snickering, while Oswald and his posse started sputtering.
“What! NO! You filthy lower noble that is little better than commoner trash! You tarnished our hornor this morning, and we are going to settle it!” Oswald shouted.
I just shrug, “Oh yes… the 15 of you are so very honorable.” I said with as much sarcasm in my voice before spitting to the side, “The bunch of you you would not know honor if it diddled you up the bum as you do to each other in the storeroom you are trying to lure me into.”
Before Oswald and his gang were about to spew out their comebacks, a shout rang out through the training ground, “FALL IN!”
When I turned to where the voice came from, a grizzled white-haired man stepped up on the stage in front of the training grounds, followed by 5 other men standing just below in front of the stage.
Seeing that the instructors had arrived, Oswald and his boys gave me the stink eye as they moved to follow the order.
“This is not over Ironcrest.” Oswald said in a low tone as he walked away.
MC immature. Kind of ironic he believes he is with his thoughts and behaviour.
Unless he raised a kid or two and chuckles at Kiplling's If most men are imature
The bunch of you you
Repeat of the word "you"
Mc beginning to act his age. Disappointing. Instead of taunting the other kid he should be trying to disarm the situation. Adults should try to guide children not just beat them up