The boys standing ahead of Strong Man clearly knew one another. They chatted excitedly as they waited in line, their voices energetic despite the long wait.
"Sir Magus is the Lord's own brother. If anyone can become his apprentice, their future will be limitless!"
"That's right! My cousin works as a guard in the castle. He told me that even the knight sirs treat Sir Magus with genuine respect. And the Lord himself often consults Sir Magus before making important decisions."
"You really don't know? Sir Magus is a Wizard!"
"A legendary Wizard? Is that true? Or just some rumor?"
"Of course it's true. My father personally heard a noble lord mention it during a banquet. There's no way something like that would be a lie."
"That's incredible!"
A Wizard?
Strong Man blinked and rolled his eyes slightly. Earlier, when the kind guard uncle had mentioned Wizards, he'd already been confused. What exactly was a Wizard supposed to be?
Judging from how these boys spoke, it was clearly something extraordinary—something far beyond the ordinary warriors or scholars he had seen before.
Unable to suppress his curiosity, Strong Man finally leaned forward and asked quietly, "Excuse me… what exactly is a Wizard?"
The chatting boys turned toward him. When they noticed his old, worn-out clothes, a trace of disdain flickered in their eyes.
The leading boy sneered, "You don't even know that? A Wizard is someone far greater than a Knight. They can control lightning and flames, and they can perform all kinds of miraculous spells!"
Strong Man stared blankly.
Control lightning and flames? People could really do such things?
That was unbelievable.
So Sir Magus… was actually that powerful?
Seeing that Strong Man simply stood there in shock, the boy who had spoken curled his lips dismissively and turned back to his friends. None of them bothered with him again.
The line continued to advance little by little. After nearly an hour of waiting, Strong Man finally reached the front, close enough to clearly see inside the wooden shed.
Inside the shed stood a long wooden table. Behind it sat a kindly-looking old man. Each time a boy or girl stepped forward, the old man would open a peculiar-looking black book and place it before them.
Almost without exception, the moment each test-taker looked at the book, their expression changed. After ten seconds or so, most clutched their heads, groaning in pain. When that happened, the old man gently closed the book, offered a few soft words of comfort, and dismissed them.
Clearly, these children were unqualified.
Up until now, only two had passed—a boy and a girl. They stood quietly behind the old man, waiting.
The boy wore luxurious silk clothing. Judging by his bearing and the way the corners of his mouth kept twitching upward in a barely contained smirk, he was definitely a noble's son. Even though he tried to hide his pride, the superiority in his gaze was unmistakable.
The girl, on the other hand, wore simple but clean clothing. Her posture was straight, and she carried a refined, scholarly aura—something Strong Man recognized. He had once met a scholar traveling through his village who carried a similar air of knowledge and cultivation.
While Strong Man was still observing the scene, the boys in front of him finished their attempts. Without exception, they failed as well. Their faces were gray with disappointment as they stepped aside, unwilling to leave but too embarrassed to remain in line.
Then the soldier at the entrance called, "Next!"
It was finally Strong Man's turn.
He took a deep breath and stepped to the wooden table.
"What is your name?" the old man asked gently.
"Strong Man," he replied, trying to steady his voice.
The old man's eyes flicked over his clothes, and a hint of surprise surfaced. "You can read?"
"I've… studied a little," Strong Man admitted nervously, rubbing his palms together.
The old man smiled kindly. "Relax. There's nothing to be nervous about."
He handed over a sheet of paper. "Read the words written here."
Strong Man glanced at the page and felt himself relax a little. They were simple, common words—words he had painstakingly learned over the past year. He cleared his throat and read them aloud.
"That will do."
The old man nodded, pleased. He retrieved the paper, opened the pitch-black book, and set it before him.
The book's cover was cold and dark, almost metallic. The pages were filled with a string of strange symbols—awkward-looking, as if scribbled at random, yet eerily deliberate.
"Read the book," the old man instructed softly. "During this time, you may experience headaches or a tightness in your chest. This is normal. If the pain becomes too strong, look away immediately."
But Strong Man never heard the rest.
The instant his eyes fell upon the strange symbols, his consciousness blurred. The world around him went abruptly silent—so silent it felt as though time itself had stopped.
The people around him froze like statues. Even the leaf that had been drifting toward the ground hung suspended in the air as though trapped in a painting.
He looked around in shock.
The wooden table before him—and even the pillars supporting the shed—were suddenly wrapped in writhing, colorful tentacles that had not been there moments ago. Each tentacle shimmered gently, floating like jellyfish in still water, and the surface of these tentacles was covered with countless tiny, densely packed eyes.
Then he looked down.
The cracks between the blue stone tiles beneath his feet had widened. The fissures opened and closed like mouths—long, thin mouths whispering in perfect unison.
"Truth."
"Truth."
"Truth."
Strong Man's heart hammered violently. His knees nearly buckled.
What… what was this?
In his entire life—spent in a quiet farming village—he had never seen anything so bizarre, so terrifying, so utterly beyond common sense.
Was this the power of a Wizard?
Was this what the test was meant to reveal?
Just as fear began to overwhelm him, the tentacles and whispering cracks vanished. Everything dissolved like mist brushed away by a sudden breeze.
Strong Man gasped.
The world snapped back to normal. The noise of the crowd returned. The leaf finally finished falling to the ground.
He blinked several times, then looked around in confusion.
Everyone was staring at him with wide eyes—some filled with envy, others with jealousy, and some with naked disbelief.
He looked down at the book again and realized, with a jolt, that the once-indecipherable symbols now made sense. They were as readable as ordinary words.
"Congratulations," the old man said, his face glowing with delight. His tone was far warmer than before. "You have passed the test."
Strong Man stood there blankly.
"You may wait over there," the old man continued, pointing to the space behind him. "When the testing concludes, I will take all of you to meet Sir Magus."
The surrounding children erupted in murmurs.
"No way! How could he pass?"
"His luck is ridiculous!"
"How could I possibly be worse than a commoner? Something must be wrong!"
The soldiers shouted for silence, and the crowd reluctantly quieted down.
Strong Man, still half-dazed, obeyed the old man's instructions and moved to stand behind the table.
A soft voice spoke beside him.
"Are you alright?"
He turned and saw the scholarly girl—the one who had passed earlier. Her eyes were clear and calm.
"You saw… those anomalies too, right?" she whispered.
"You all saw it?" Strong Man asked, startled. A wave of relief washed through him. At least he wasn't imagining things.
Finally, the realization hit him properly.
He had passed.
He was qualified.
Didn't that mean… he would begin receiving a gold coin every month?
A real gold coin—for him?
His heart thumped with sudden, overwhelming joy.
His life… might really be about to change.
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