I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!-Chapter 133: Merit Point and Gold Pass

"I don't care."

The response struck Hamiel like a hammer missing its mark.

His eyes shook with undisguised disbelief.

For someone of his prestige, whose name carried weight across every land and race, the idea that a student—a first-year no less—would reject such an offer so effortlessly was unheard of.

The rejection stung not because of arrogance, but because Hamiel simply couldn't comprehend it.

"You must be rejecting because you do not know who I am," Hamiel declared, his voice carrying both pride and conviction.

In his mind, there was no other explanation—surely, this brat had no idea who he was turning down.

Hamiel had never introduced himself formally. Perhaps, Ashok assumed he was just another ordinary blacksmith instructor. That had to be the reason.

Before Hamiel could even begin his introduction, Ashok was already ahead of him.

"I know who you are," Ashok stated with unwavering certainty, his voice cutting through the moment like a blade.

"Hamiel, one of the three Grade 6 Blacksmiths and the youngest Divine Creator.

The creator forged the Divine Blade Súlenthra—a weapon blessed by the God of Hammers himself and now wielded by the Sword Emperor.

That blade was your masterpiece, the creation that elevated you into the ranks of the rare few Grade 6 Blacksmiths in existence."

His words sent ripples of shock through the class.

Most of the students had only heard whispered rumors of Grade 6 existences, figures spoken of in hushed awe but rarely, if ever, seen.

Even those who hailed from noble houses had never laid eyes on one in raw flesh.

And yet, here stood Hamiel—as their teacher, whom most of them had foolishly mistaken as just a powerful instructor—revealed as one of the continent's most revered craftsmen.

Grade 6 artisans—whether alchemists, enchanters, or blacksmiths—were treasures, individuals whose value surpassed even legendary warriors.

Because anyone could wield a weapon. Fighters existed in every race, in every corner of the world.

But craftsmen—those who dedicated their lives to creation, to refinement, to perfection—were rare. And that rarity elevated them beyond mere warriors.

A Grade 6 Craftsman was considered above an Ascended Fighter in value.

Empires waged wars not for powerful warriors, but for the minds that created them—for the hands that shaped their weapons, their armor, their artifacts.

And now, Hamiel, one of the greatest, had been teaching under the guise of an academy instructor.

Few knew his true identity, and those who did rarely spoke of it. But the reason was simple—

Hamiel had no desire for fame or politics. He had concealed himself within the Academy to escape the endless pursuit of kingdoms desperate to claim his craft for themselves.

The reverent gaze of the students lingered on Hamiel, their awe palpable as they processed the revelation of his identity.

The esteemed blacksmith, who had spent years concealed within the Academy, now found himself suddenly thrust into the spotlight—not by his own doing, but by Ashok's sudden declaration.

Hamiel, initially taken aback, felt a rare shyness creeping over him.

It had been a long time since anyone had openly praised his masterpiece, since eyes had been filled with such admiration for his work.

The subtle embarrassment showed in the way he rubbed the back of his head, letting out a forced cough.

"Ahem! No need to exaggerate that much. If you know, then you should accept to be my Inheri—" frёeωebɳovel.com

But Ashok, ever unrelenting, cut him off before he could finish. His voice, dripping with casual dismissal, held not admiration but cold fact.

"Don't be on Sky Nine! I was just stating the facts. If you think I'm exaggerating, I can also mention the sacrifices made for that Divine Blade of yours."

The word sacrifices landed like an anvil, and Hamiel visibly flinched.

The atmosphere shifted in an instant.

"I didn't make any sacrifices for my weapon. Don't you dare lie in front of me," Hamiel retorted sharply, his tone turning defensive, his pride bristling against the implication.

Ashok simply smirked; eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. He didn't argue. He didn't elaborate.

He simply spoke—numbers.

"Seven. Four. Two."

Hamiel's brow furrowed, confusion etching itself onto his features.

The numbers hung in the air, weighted with unspoken meaning, and yet, for the moment, they eluded him.

Ashok tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his crimson eyes as he offered clarification.

"Let me help you revitalize your foggy memories. Seven Legendary and Four Mythical Grade Artifacts—used in many special ways to create the blueprint for the Divine Blade.

Am I right~ Teacher Hamiel?" His words were light, teasing even, but the challenge beneath them was razor-sharp.

Hamiel's complexion paled.

Hamiel instinctively took a step back, his firm stance momentarily faltering.

The weight of Ashok's words settled over him like an anvil, cold and precise.

His voice, usually filled with authority, now carried an edge of surprise. "H-How do you know?"

The reaction was instant.

Every student in the Weapon Hall turned to Ashok, confusion flickering in their eyes.

None of them understood what he was implying—what special way Hamiel had used to harness the artifacts for his masterpiece.

Even Mia was curious.

She had never heard of anything that could elicit such a response from her senior.

But Ashok knew. Of course he knew.

'He has to be shaken after all,' Ashok mused internally, his crimson gaze sharp and unwavering.

'The special method was simply destruction. This dwarf dismantled, smelted, and repurposed those artifacts to construct the blueprint for his Divine Blade.

If that fact were ever exposed—that a dwarf had destroyed numerous legendary artifacts just to forge a single divine weapon. It would bring heavy defamation upon Hamiel not to mention the Dwarfs might even completely ban him from crafting weapons.

That's why only two people on the continent know the truth. First, Hamiel. And second—the Sword Emperor, for whom the blade was crafted. Their relation being of criminal and accomplice'

The weight of that knowledge settled between them like an unspoken threat. But Ashok wasn't done.

With an unsettling smirk, he tilted his head slightly and spoke.

"That's not the right question you should be asking, Teacher."

His voice carried a playful menace, dragging the moment out deliberately. "The right question is—what does the number two indicate in Seven Four Two?"

"..."

A slow, creeping dread spread over Hamiel, Cold sweat formed along his brow for some reason Ashok figure started to enlarge before his eyes.

He thought the Kid was only knowledge in Runes but he had never expected the kid to possess this kind of knowledge.

Before Ashok could speak anything, Hamiel sent a sharp telepathic command straight to Ashok. 'Don't you dare speak a word further.'

Ashok's smile deepened listening to the command but he didn't say a word further.

Hamiel exhaled heavily, clenching his jaw as frustration rippled through him. His voice, rough with restrained irritation, muttered under his breath.

"That sword-obsessed brat dares to open his mouth."

Ashok standing right beside didn't clear the misconception?

Why should he interfere?

Better to enjoy the show.

The tension that had dominated the Weapon Hall began to settle as Hamiel exhaled heavily, accepting the inevitable.

"It seems you have no intention of becoming my disciple," he muttered, his voice carrying both disappointment and reluctant resignation.

There was no point in pressing further—not when Ashok had shown that he was more than capable of dismantling his reputation if he chose to.

Ashok, as unbothered as ever, shrugged slightly. "It seems my words are clearer now. From the very beginning, I had no intention of crafting weapons."

Hamiel gave him a final, studying glance before sighing. "Give me your ID card."

Without hesitation, Ashok extended his hand from his pocket, revealing the sleek ID card held between his fingers—retrieved effortlessly from his storage ring.

Hamiel took the card, his rough fingers tracing over its surface as he lifted his other hand.

His index and middle fingers pulsed with a small, concentrated white light, shimmering faintly in the dim hall.

With fast and deliberate movements, he traced the glowing energy over the ID card, his experienced hands crafting an inscription with practiced ease.

A few moments passed, and then Hamiel handed the card back to Ashok, his expression unreadable.

Ashok inspected the new changes. Two distinct alterations stood out.

First, was obvious Merit Points: 2 – A clear acknowledgment of his knowledge, granted despite his rejection of Hamiel's offer.

The Second was A golden hammer symbol which was now etched onto the top-right corner of his ID card.

Ashok's fingers tightened around his ID card, his crimson eyes flickering with intrigue as he studied the new additions. 'This is completely unexpected.'

The thought sparked a rare moment of excitement within him—though his expression remained unreadable.

Hamiel's observing his reaction clicked his tongue and his voice rang through the hall. "I have given you two merit points."

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the gathered students. Their stares—filled with irritation and resentment—now also brimmed with envy. But now many of them were directed towards Hamiel.

Two points. Not just one.

Sensing the growing tension, Hamiel let out a small sigh before clarifying.

"First, for identifying all three weapons. Second, for recognizing the runes." His words were firm, his tone carrying the unmistakable authority of someone who had carefully weighed the decision.

But then, he added something unexpected.

"Lastly, I am also giving you a Gold Pass to the Academy Blacksmith Division. It comes with many benefits—you can check with the division for details."

Silence hung in the air for a moment before the inevitable whispers erupted.

None of the students had ever heard of a Gold Pass before.

Even those from noble households exchanged uncertain glances, their minds scrambling to piece together its significance.

It wasn't just the rarity that caught them off guard—it was the fact that Hamiel, a Grade 6 Blacksmith, had personally granted it.

And if someone of his stature deemed it must be valuable.