Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Knowledge Test
In the Golden Valley Kingdom, the literacy rate among commoners wasn’t very high. Most people were considered fortunate if they could even write their own nas.
People like Roland and Sean, who had attended a Church-funded school for free as children, were already considered rare "intellectuals."
But even so, after poring over the parchnt for a long ti, the two of them still couldn’t decipher its contents.
Roland’s fingertips traced over the faded ink again and again, and tiny beads of sweat ford on his forehead.
But after a long while, he could only manage to piece together the words "Silver Leaf Grass" and "Nightshade Vine."
As for the large blocks of text that remained, he couldn’t understand them at all.
This was the first ti since transmigrating that Roland felt being literate was so important.
After all, the parchnt’s material looked ancient, and it had been deliberately sewn into the lining of the Leather Armor. No matter how he looked at it, it seed like sothing valuable.
"Forget it, pal. These damn words are giving
a headache..."
Sean flopped onto the ground like a rain-soaked loaf of bread and gave a listless wave.
"You should hold onto this. If you gave it to , I’d probably never figure out what’s written on it in my entire life."
Roland didn’t refuse.
The two checked their surroundings once more, and after confirming they hadn’t missed anything, they turned and walked out of the woods.
The rest of the journey was uneventful, and they reached the manor smoothly before noon.
"Pal, I won’t be around, so you have to keep yourself safe. If anything happens, go find my father and Uncle Peyton. I already told them before I left. Also..."
Sean rambled on for a long ti, just like a nagging mother, before he finally shut his mouth.
After a reluctant wave goodbye, he continued down the road.
Watching Sean’s figure recede into the distance, Roland took a deep breath and turned to step through the manor’s main gate.
After expertly hiding his belongings in a concealed spot, he hurried toward the Blacksmith Shop.
The mont he stepped over the threshold, Roland imdiately felt dozens of eyes lock onto him, one gaze particularly piercing.
Following the feeling, he saw Marco staring daggers at him, his freckled face twisted with fury, his teeth grinding together with a GGRRR sound.
’How is that bastard completely unhard?’
Marco’s knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the iron tongs.
’Did that good-for-nothing Sam take the money and not do the job?’
Roland took in the venomous look, which confird his suspicions.
’Heh... So it really was him who sent soone after !’
After a cold sneer inwardly, Roland calmly surveyed his surroundings and suddenly noticed that more than half of the apprentices in the Blacksmith Shop were gone.
There was little ti left before Hawke’s mandated assembly ti, which ant that many people, like Sean, had given up on the assessnt two months from now.
’The ones who stayed are mostly the children of Blacksmiths...’
His gaze swept over the few boys whose Forging Skills were on par with Marco’s and only slightly inferior to his own. Roland’s heart tightened, and the relaxed feeling from his ti off vanished in an instant.
"Everyone, stop what you’re doing!"
The booming voice arrived before the man himself.
Hawke strode into the Blacksmith Shop with his hands behind his back, coming to a stop before the crowd.
He gave Roland a slight nod before saying in a deep voice, "I told you before the break that today I would be testing your knowledge."
The old Blacksmith brought his hands forward from behind his back and unrolled a scroll made of cheap birch bark and linen paper.
The densely packed text on it made Roland’s scalp tingle.
"Now, co up one by one and read the contents of this scroll aloud!"
Ti passed slowly in the oppressive atmosphere. Before they knew it, twilight had quietly fallen over the land.
Roland stood among a group of equally dejected apprentices, his head bowed and shoulders slumped.
A thunderous roar of fury echoed through the Blacksmith Shop, making everyone’s eardrums tremble.
On the other side, Marco and the few others who had passed the test were snickering with their heads down, occasionally exchanging gloating glances.
Hawke’s face was flushed red, veins bulging on his thick neck. The scroll in his hand rustled as he clenched it tightly.
"You blockheads! You can’t even read the most basic contract terms! How are you supposed to negotiate deals with rchant caravans in the future? How will you calculate ore prices?"
He slamd the scroll down on the nearby anvil with a dull THUD.
A few apprentices flinched in fright, burying their heads even lower.
"Look at what’s written here! ’If the delivered goods do not et the standard, double the deposit must be paid as compensation.’ It’s such a simple sentence, yet you all stamred through it! You couldn’t even fully recognize the word ’compensation’!"
He sneered, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "At this rate, even an old woman selling vegetables on the street could cheat you out of everything you own!"
"Good-for-nothings like you want to make a na for yourselves as Blacksmiths? You might as well pack it in and go be farrs!"
The Blacksmith Shop fell silent, with only the occasional CRACKLE of the forge fire breaking the stillness.
Hawke panted heavily, his chest heaving as if he was trying to vent all his pent-up fury.
Just then, a sowhat mild voice suddenly spoke up.
"Mr. Hawke, do... do you need
to step aside for a mont?"
"No, Mr. Bronson, you’ve co at the perfect ti..."
Hawke suppressed his anger and bellowed in a stifled voice, "Idiots! All of you, look up! This is the teacher responsible for your education, Mr. Bronson!"
Hearing this, Roland looked up.
Standing beside Hawke was a tall but exceptionally gaunt man.
He looked to be around thirty years old, with a hunched back that made his already slender fra seem even more fragile beneath his loose gray robes.
His long fingers nervously fidgeted with his ssy brown hair, his gaze perpetually lowered.
Whenever Hawke raised his voice, the man would instinctively shrink into the shadows like a startled quail.
Upon seeing the newcor’s appearance, a few of the boys nearby imdiately began to whisper among themselves.
"This guy is supposed to be our teacher?"
"What’s wrong? Do you recognize him?"
"My uncle told
he’s apparently from the Royal Capital. He was chasing after nobles like a beggar, asking for so kind of research funding, and he begged his way from the Royal Capital all the way to us..."
’Royal Capital? Research funding?’
These terms, sowhat unfamiliar in this world, reached Roland’s ears.
But he didn’t pay them much mind. Right now, his thoughts were consud with how to master more words as quickly as possible.
Marco’s group had already passed the knowledge test and could now focus single-mindedly on honing their Forging Skills, while he, on the other hand, had to divide his attention to learn how to read.
This brief setback could very well allow those blacksmiths’ sons, who had grown up with hamrs in their hands, to catch up to or even surpass his Forging Skills.
’Then there’s training my Power and changing my class to Blacksmith... Tsk, the Blacksmith Apprentice assessnt starts in two months. It feels like there’s not enough ti...’
Just as his thoughts were racing, a sudden loud noise shattered his train of thought.
"All of you, shut up!"
Hawke clapped his hands forcefully, the dull sound echoing through the Blacksmith Shop.
"I’m only giving you one month..."
The old Blacksmith’s voice was as powerful and resonant as a hamr striking an anvil.
"After that, anyone who still can’t pass the knowledge test will pack their bags and get out! Do you understand?"
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