The other students in the class were completely stunned. Although they didn't know what the teacher's flag signal meant, they could tell from the teacher's reaction that Qian Jin, a student who usually never answered questions in class, wasn't just strong in combat skills.

"Dying of thirst..." Qian Jin scooped two handfuls of cool water from the cistern and gulped it down, recalling the struggles in class earlier to secure a good spot for the Dou Ling Grand Formation. Some things were truly hard to explain. The skills he had worked so hard to learn back then, which he thought would never be useful again after a certain test, had unexpectedly come into play right here, right now.

Qian Jin returned to the classroom to find nearly all his classmates still frozen in shock. Teacher Huan, who had been lecturing, rose distractedly and walked slowly out of the room, not even glancing at Qian Jin as he left.

Qian Jin checked the schedule—the next class was Continental Geography. He returned to his seat just as a low voice from Luo Lin reached him: "For the flag signaling final exam, I'm copying yours."

"No problem, as long as you stop trying to introduce your sister to me..."

"Copying and cheating is the bond between men! How can it be a transaction? I, Luo Lin, have principles! You are destined to become my brother-in-law!"

Geography, Basic Military Formation, Continental History... and Warrior Combat class.

Oakland Academy of Magic and Warriors, like all other junior magic and warrior academies, scheduled their classes packed tightly. Four classes in the morning and two in the afternoon meant students here had no sense of time passing; one blink, and the afternoon sessions were over.

Qian Jin stretched, glancing at the sun in the sky. It was still early, no need to rush to the small woods for the challenge. Better stop by the Franlin Blacksmith Shop first. He had finally found a job that could quickly boost his income; how could he waste this good time?

The teacher had just left the classroom, and Qian Jin rose, quickening his pace as he too exited.

The Franlin Blacksmith Shop, the second-largest forge in the obscure city of Oakland, was never quiet. Even passersby on the bustling street could hear the rhythmic sound of metal striking metal coming from the back courtyard.

Today, however, when Qian Jin reached the entrance, he didn't hear the usual ding-clang, ding-clang of hammers meeting white-hot iron.

"Day off today?" Qian Jin walked into the shop curiously, immediately noticing the several listless front-desk sales staff spring to life.

The young sales staff he had seen before swarmed toward Qian Jin like a tide, only one person moving happily in the opposite direction, rushing quickly toward the interior of the shop.

"Qian Jin, you've finally arrived..."

"Qian Jin, quick, quick! You absolutely have to bring honor to us today."

"Qian Jin, our Franlin Blacksmith Shop is counting on you..."

Qian Jin looked strangely at the cluster of employees surrounding him. He had only joined the Franlin Blacksmith Shop yesterday, and he could only forge Grade Two Refined Iron. Manager Franlin himself could craft weapons; they should rely on the manager, not him.

While Qian Jin was puzzled, noisy voices and footsteps sounded from the quiet back courtyard of the Franlin Blacksmith Shop in the next instant.

"Qian Jin, you are finally here..."

Fransey, leading the charge, carrying his thirty-plus-pound blacksmith hammer, opened his arms wide and moved to embrace Qian Jin.

Qian Jin stared blankly at the group of smiths rushing out. This was only his second day working here; surely there wasn't any deep friendship established? Why were the faces of everyone present wearing such joyous smiles?

Two more men emerged from the doorway connecting the back courtyard and the front hall. Their builds were somewhat slender, but the muscle mass in their shoulders and arms instantly signaled to outsiders that they were strong individuals. The attire they wore—clothing only worn when hammering metal—further confirmed their identity as blacksmiths.

Only on their chests was there a metal insignia carved with a flame and a hammerhead, completely different from the Franlin Blacksmith Shop's crest. This marked them as smiths not belonging to the same forge.

This symbol was fairly well-known in the city of Oakland; it was the mark of the city's premier forge, the Lucas Blacksmith Shop. Having lived here for some time, Qian Jin recognized the emblem.

What were people from the Lucas Blacksmith Shop doing here? Looking hostile? Challenging them? Qian Jin quickly assessed the people before him, rapidly formulating conjectures. Surely not? The Lucas Blacksmith Shop was significantly larger than Franlin's. While both were ranked first and second in the city, they were not on the same level. Why stoop to this?

Seven more people—five men and two women—then walked out from the connecting door between the back courtyard and the front hall. Each was clad in simple light armor, holding either a steel saber or an iron sword, and each had a small-to-medium-sized leather pouch fastened at their waist.

This was standard adventurer gear! If anything was missing from this group's composition, it was a mage or an archer.

Qian Jin raised an eyebrow, betraying no surprise at the slightly unbalanced team composition. Mages were rare professions; most, after graduation, chose to serve in the army, the royal court, or various powerful noble houses, where more resources were available to aid them.

Of course, there was also a contingent of mages rumored to be highly ambitious, who had formed a Mage Guild. Many mages congregated there, helping one another develop spells and conducting research. Occasionally, they would accept assignments out in the field to earn remuneration for the Mage Guild, sustaining its operations.

Very few mages ever joined adventurer parties or mercenary groups. Thus, mages were absolutely a rare sight in adventurer teams.

Judging by their equipment, this current group was certainly not wealthy. The chance of them recruiting a mage was far smaller than being struck on the head by a falling meteor.

As for hiring a mage? Low-tier mages couldn't even cast a Fireball spell independently; they could only use auxiliary magic, often being more of a hindrance than a help in combat. If they were accidentally killed through lack of protection, the Mage Guild was not to be trifled with and would surely demand heavy compensation.

Mages were expensive; they required funds to research magic and more to craft magic scrolls. A team with this level of gear likely couldn't afford to employ a mage even if they dedicated all their income, let alone whether they could afford the penalty if a mage died under their watch.

"You are the Grade Two smith who came here yesterday?"

The man from the Lucas Blacksmith Shop scrutinized Qian Jin with his four eyes, frequently shooting looks of surprise. To be such a young person and already a Grade Two smith was truly hard to believe.

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