Translator: CinderTL
Three days after the festival, the overcast sky hung heavy and oppressive.
Yet this did nothing to dampen Marco's buoyant mood.
The tall young man strode out of his dormitory, humming a cheerful tune as he headed toward the blacksmith shop.
As he passed an open area, Marco noticed a group of youths reciting texts under the guidance of a lean man.
His gaze drifted through the crowd until it landed on a fair-faced boy with a furrowed brow. A smile tugged at the corner of Marco's lips.
"Even though that mercenary named Sam took my money without delivering, he ultimately achieved the effect I wanted."
Marco chuckled softly, recalling Roland's embarrassment that day when he couldn't recognize most of the words on the cloth.
"My father hired tutors for me from a young age, and after I came of age, he had me study various commercial contracts by his side."
Marco stroked the ornate leather belt buckle at his waist, a glint of pride flashing in his eyes.
"Even so, it took me years to master enough characters to barely pass Master Hawk's General Knowledge test."
"And he expects to pass the test in a month after being taught by some shady 'beggar'? That's utterly delusional."
With that thought, Marco straightened his collar and quickened his pace toward the blacksmith shop.
Meanwhile, Roland, whom Marco was secretly mocking, was listening intently to Bronson's explanation.
The branch in his hand traced the outlines of characters in the mud, following the rhythm of the lesson.
Noticing this focused figure, Bronson's voice softened unconsciously.
Unlike the other half-hearted youths, Roland had not only paid rapt attention to every lesson over the past three days but had also chased after Bronson afterward, peppering him with questions.
Even in the tower, such diligent students are rare, Bronson thought, clearing his throat and saying kindly, "Roland, come forward and read this passage."
"Yes, Mr. Bronson."
Roland set down the branch he was holding and slowly stepped forward to take the cloth, beginning to read aloud.
"During the... uh... era, knights followed... uh... to conquer dragons, and then... uh..."
As his stumbling recitation ended, the youths in the clearing erupted into laughter.
"Quiet down, everyone!" Bronson called out, but the boys paid no heed, continuing to snicker and mock.
"Can't even read a knight's tale properly? And he wants to be a blacksmith apprentice?"
"He's just a country bumpkin. It's a miracle he can even recognize a few words."
The boys had long harbored jealousy and resentment toward Roland for Hawk's special treatment. Now that they finally had an opportunity to mock him, they weren't about to let it slip away.
"Quiet! I said, quiet!" Bronson raised his voice again, trying to restore order, but the waves of snickers persisted. The mischievous youths exchanged knowing glances, clearly showing their disregard for this "beggar" teacher.
Seeing this, Bronson nervously rubbed his fingers together and cast an apologetic glance at Roland.
To his surprise, Roland neither flushed with embarrassment nor retreated in the face of the rising tide of mockery. Instead, he continued reciting, his voice slightly awkward but resolute, completing each word with unwavering determination.
"Mr. Bronson, I've finished reading," Roland said, bowing slightly as he handed over the piece of cloth.
"Very... very good," Bronson replied, exhaling in relief at Roland's calm demeanor. He gently patted the boy's shoulder. "Keep up the good work," he said, his voice softening unconsciously. "Your progress has already surpassed everyone else's."
"Thank you, Mr. Bronson."
Watching the boy's retreating figure, Bronson sighed softly. He hadn't been lying earlier; compared to the other youths, Roland's progress in literacy was indeed remarkably rapid.
"But his foundation is still too weak. I doubt he'll pass Mr. Hawk's General Knowledge assessment."
"I happen to need an assistant. Perhaps..."
But considering the meager funding provided by Baron Forslin, Bronson could only shake his head and let out a helpless sigh.
After returning to his seat, Roland quickly resumed his previous focused state.
As he listened intently to Bronson's explanation, Roland idly sketched patterns in the dirt with a twig.
After what felt like an eternity, a crisp bell rang out, and Roland's pupils suddenly contracted.
[General Knowledge learned. Current level: Lv. 1]
[Detected: Eligible for basic class Adept]
[Requirements: Spirit 0.8, Lv. 1 General Knowledge]
[Proceed with class change?]
"Learning to read and write can trigger skills?"
Roland's heart leaped with joy as he gazed at the golden text floating before him.
Until now, whether it was pumping the bellows or practicing basic swordsmanship, all his skills had been practical, hands-on techniques.
The fact that abstract knowledge like literacy could also activate skills completely shattered his understanding of the Job Panel.
After a brief moment of astonishment, Roland immediately affirmed silently.
"Change class to Adept."
[Class change successful. Current class: Adept]
[Attribute bonus gained: Spirit +0.5]
[Trait gained: Focus]
[Focus: When activated, enters a state of heightened mental concentration. Duration determined by Spirit attribute value.]
"An actively triggered trait!"
Roland's eyebrows involuntarily arched upward as he stared at the golden text.
He had assumed that a basic class like Adept would grant a passive enhancement trait, similar to those gained by blacksmith apprentices or recruits.
He had even imagined the trait's effect, something along the lines of "significantly increased learning efficiency."
However, the actual trait, Focus, completely shattered his expectations.
Highly concentrated thinking.
Muttering the trait's description to himself, Roland activated the Focus state without hesitation.
In an instant, the surrounding chatter of the other youths faded into a blurry background hum. Bronson's hoarse lecture became distant, as if heard through a thick pane of glass.
Everything seemed to slow down and grow quiet.
Roland lowered his head and began to rub the cloth in his hand. The texture beneath his fingertips became unprecedentedly clear; he could even discern the varying degrees of ink absorption in different areas.
The originally crooked and illegible characters gradually decomposed into distinct stroke structures in Roland's mind.
Then, as if coming to life, they surged into his brain.
[You have successfully conducted a General Knowledge study, gaining one experience point.]
[You have successfully conducted a General Knowledge study.]
[You have successfully conducted...]
He lost track of time. Only when a slightly gaunt hand gently touched his shoulder did Roland awaken from this indescribable state.
But before he could even look up to see who it was, a sharp, needle-like pain suddenly pierced his mind.
(End of the Chapter)
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