Thump, thump, thump! Intense knocking shook the heavy wooden door.
Inside the wooden house, Sherman, who was sleeping under a tattered quilt, was instantly awakened. Rubbing his eyes, he sleepily called out, "Coming."
Mid-month of the Revival Moon, the weather was still quite chilly.
Sherman put on his worn-out clothes, grabbed the leather coat that served as a second blanket, and opened the door.
Outside, Old Roger leaned against a carriage, holding a whip in one hand and puffing on his pipe with the other.
"Hurry up, it's getting late. If you're late, you'll get scolded."
"Got it."
Sherman closed the wooden door, nimbly climbed onto the carriage, showing no signs of urgency.
Roger glanced at him but said nothing. He cracked the whip sharply, and the old horse snorted as it pulled the carriage slowly forward.
Sherman leaned against the carriage railing, glanced at the dark sky, and closed his eyes for a nap.
Based on past experience, it would take about half an hour to reach the inner fort, and by then, the sky would be light.
Sherman was an orphan.
According to Old Roger, he found Sherman on a snowy day, and because he had no children of his own, he took Sherman in and raised him.
For years, Roger had worked hard collecting garbage for the nobles and disposing of it outside the city, raising Sherman to the age of twelve with great effort.
Sherman felt deep gratitude towards Roger.
Though he knew they weren't related by blood, Roger was like a father to him.
Unconsciously, the carriage entered the inner city.
A habit honed over time made Sherman automatically wake up.
From a distance, he saw the majestic castle, his eyes brimming with envy and longing.
That was where the lord and knights resided.
Sherman had dreamed countless times of becoming a noble, living in a luxurious castle, enjoying a high and lavish life.
Or perhaps becoming a powerful knight, earning the lord's favor, and becoming a guard, qualifying to live in the castle.
In the boy's limited understanding, that castle was the most wonderful place in the world.
But deep down, he knew that if not for his job, someone like him—a commoner—would never set foot in that castle in his lifetime.
Let alone live there.
Upon waking, the dreams would vanish, leaving only the cold reality.
Old Roger had told him that when he died, Sherman could inherit the two wooden houses and the carriage, taking over the job of cleaning garbage for the nobles.
Sherman thought that was likely his future.
The carriage stopped in front of the castle, and Sherman followed Roger off the carriage, heading towards the tall guards at the gate.
Previously, when they entered the castle to clean garbage, they were often extorted by the guards and stewards, who demanded various benefits.
However, since the previous lord was executed and the new lord took office, replacing the guards and stewards, they hadn't faced such extortion.
This alone made Sherman have a favorable impression of the new lord he had never met.
Over the past few months, the guards had become familiar with Roger and Sherman.
Seeing them arrive, they conducted a simple check and allowed them through.
Spending the entire morning, Roger and Sherman skillfully collected the garbage, loaded it onto the carriage, and prepared to transport it outside the city.
Before leaving, one of the guards suddenly called out to Sherman, looked him up and down, and asked, "Little Sherman, how old are you this year?"
Sherman was taken aback but answered truthfully, "Twelve."
"Can you read?"
Sherman nodded.
Commoners like him, working for the nobles, typically couldn't read, but Roger, having been an accounting apprentice for a shop in his youth, had learned to read before the shop closed. He then taught Sherman.
Hearing this, the guard smiled and said, "Perfect. The lord recently issued a decree that all youths aged twelve to fifteen who can read, regardless of gender or background, must report to the testing center for a test. You should go there later."
"Test? What kind of test?"
Sherman was still in a daze, but Roger became anxious and quickly said, "Sir, little Sherman has always worked diligently, never done anything wrong."
The guard waved his hand, chuckling, "Don't worry, it's a good thing. Lord Sunan is recruiting apprentices across the entire Shimmering Territory. Those who pass the test can become his apprentices and receive a gold coin subsidy each month."
Roger and Sherman were stunned, their faces full of shock.
They worked hard all month for less than ten silver coins.
But becoming an apprentice meant earning a gold coin monthly?
Was such a good thing possible?
However, Roger hesitated.
Was there really such a windfall in this world?
Could it be a trick to lure people away for some nefarious purpose?
Seeing Roger's expression, the guard knew what he was thinking and laughed, "Lord Sunan is a legendary wizard, and the decree was issued by the lord himself. You think those two have nothing better to do than deceive a poor wretch like you?"
"I wouldn't have bothered to remind you if I didn't see that little Sherman is a good kid."
Roger quickly apologized with a smile.
Thinking the guard made sense, after all, a decree from the lord couldn't be false.
Thanking the guard, Roger pulled Sherman onto the carriage.
On the way back, Roger thought for a while and said to Sherman, "After we dump the garbage, clean yourself up, change your clothes, and go to the testing center."
Sherman nodded vigorously, his eyes shining.
If he could become an apprentice to Lord Sunan as the guard mentioned, he could earn a gold coin monthly, and in a year or two, he could take Roger to the inner city, open a small shop, and no longer have to clean garbage from dawn to dusk.
Maybe he could even live in that castle!
The thought filled Sherman with excitement, wishing he could sprout wings and fly to the testing center right then.
Returning from outside the city, Sherman rushed home, washed up, changed into his best clothes, and headed straight to the place the guard mentioned.
The testing center was set up at the border between the outer and inner city.
In front of the temporarily erected wooden shed, hundreds of boys and girls around Sherman's age lined up.
Many excitedly whispered to each other, occasionally peering towards the front of the line.
Sherman noticed that these kids were all dressed neatly, at least in clean clothes, unlike his own faded, patched attire.
It made sense; in these times, those who could read typically came from better-off families.
Outliers like him were rare.
"Line up at the end, no wandering."
A nearby soldier noticed Sherman and instructed him to queue up.
Sherman obediently went to the end of the line and waited quietly.
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