Chapter 111 - One Small Step

Chapter 111: One Small Step

If he hadn’t experienced for himself and seen for himself, even with Gawain Cecil’s memories, it would probably be difficult for Gawain to realize why this world would be so inextricably bogged down in the mire of a regressing civilization; why was it that after so many years, not only did civilization not advance at all, it was instead showing signs of rigidity and stepping back?

One research manuscript, four owners altogether, several decades of accumulation, study and summary. The results born from that were enough to change the world order yet were almost destroyed in the hands of the obsolete powerhouses of this era. Jenni and her predecessors were rare talents, but their bitter experiences were not uncommon in this world.

This was a typical example: on the land of an aristocrat, a serf was suddenly struck with a great idea of managing the land or had discovered a problem with the tax collector. He decided to tell his findings to his feudal lord. What would the outcome be?

Many people believed this serf would be punished for poking his nose in his feudal lord’s estate or for slandering the tax collector. However, more often than not, that wasn’t the case — because they wouldn’t be able to come in front of the feudal lord at all. There wouldn’t come a time where they could speak what they thought at all.

The punishment that they faced was often another thing — how dared he step on the courtyard of an aristocrat with those bare feet of his that had stepped on horse dung!

If he was wearing shoes?

Then, they would also be dragged away by the guards — You actually had shoes?! Where did you steal them from!

Clearly, from start to finish, no one cared what this serf had discovered; neither would anyone know what he truly wanted to say. As a serf, he wasn’t convicted for his words, he was convicted for breathing.

Serfs had yet to be of enough importance to be convicted for their words.

This was a kind of societal ecology that people from a modern civilized society would find difficult to comprehend. It was preposterous, foolish, strange, lamentable —— but real.

Had Jenni and Ravencrest’s research produced substantial results? Of course, even though those basic and primitive theories had yet to be sorted out, situations whereby real world phenomena could not be explained would also appear; there would even be major errors in practical use. But, at the least, most of the time, those formulas would be effective. Otherwise, Jenni couldn’t have become a grade-four runemaster. As a runemaster who only possessed apprentice-level spellcasting abilities, she could only rely on the formulas and logic summed up by three generations of predecessors.

Was Jenni’s master really stupid? Of course not. At least in terms of intelligence, an archmage could not be stupid. Stupid people wouldn’t be able to grasp complicated spell molds and rune calculations, so that archmage must be a highly intelligent person.

What ultimately caused the tragedy was neither a problem with the notebook, nor was it Jenni’s ‘master’ being really stupid that he couldn’t perceive the worth of the notes. Instead, it was the latter never having paid attention to the notebook at all, nor had he paid attention to Jenni. All he paid attention to was that his slaves were doing something that broke the rules, just like the aristocrat who whipped the serf as he stepped barefoot into his courtyard.

As Gawain walked down the road, thoughts spun in his mind without stopping. He realized that the situation was indeed as he had expected — this world had arrived at the opportune moment where revolution could take place. The breakthrough, whether in technology or mentality, had been accumulating greatly. Amongst a small number of lower-class people, such revolutions were currently happening or had already happened. They emerged noiselessly and ended without a sound. The powerlessness of the transformed populations caused things that should be epoch-making to be entirely unable to spread upwards. Therefore, changing the times became just talk, and this was precisely where this world’s problem laid.

However, the situation being as he’d expected did not cheer him up.

The heavens would know how many more geniuses like Jenni were being repressed in that obsolete mire, being buried, being wasted, being sacrificed, just like Ravencrest!

And before his project came true and made a radical change to the present situation, how many people wouldn’t be able to wait till the day they had the chance to catch a glimpse of daybreak?

He returned to his tent with a rather heavy heart. Once he stepped in, he saw the little maidservant Betty squatting beside his desk. The young lady had probably just finished cleaning this place; her clothes appeared to be dusty, but she was not in the least aware. She only squatted quietly on the ground, using the small tree branch to scratch here and there in the soil to practice her writing.

Only until Gawain walked closer was Betty jolted back to her senses. She lifted her head for a glance and hurriedly stood up. “My Lord!”

Looking at this innocent young lady, Gawain felt his depressed mood slowly easing for some reason. He pressed a hand lightly on Betty’s hair. “Didn’t I give you a set of stationery already? Why are you still writing with a branch here?”

Betty batted her eyes, seeming to be a little shy. “I… write badly. I always write wrongly, and I was worried I would waste the ink and paper. I want to practice on the ground first. When I’m able to write the alphabet properly, then I’ll use ink and paper…”

Gawain’s mouth opened in slight surprise. He initially wanted to tell her that although the territory still could not manufacture paper and ink yet, they weren’t short of money at all. Ever since the building of the pier at the White River was completed, purchasing from Tanzan Town had become much more convenient than before. However, after giving it some thought, he only shook his head with a smile, picked up a small wooden stick from the side and squatted down beside Betty.

“The way you grip your pen is wrong. Although writing on the ground with a wooden stick differs from writing on paper, if you want to write well, you’ve still got to practice gripping your pen first.”

As he spoke, he held Betty’s hand loosely and guided the young lady to grip the ‘pen’ in her hand in the correct manner and write the alphabet on the ground.

“You don’t have to use so much force. Writing is different from work. Having a lot of strength doesn’t mean you can write well. If you use too much strength, you will instead quiver.”

“It’s alright even if you write slower. You just learned. Take it slow.”

Betty was engrossed in learning; her eyes twinkled. This little maidservant who was always known as clumsy and rash was so serious right now that she seemed like another person. She was so immersed that she was simply too occupied to even wipe the tiny beads of perspiration that had seeped out onto the tip of her nose.

Gawain loosened his hand and watched the young lady slowly put those letters together and wrote out a few slightly crooked words on the ground. “Betty… likes… this… place.”

She finally wrote out a complete sentence. The young lady appeared to be very pleased. Lifting her head, she looked at Gawain with shining eyes. “I’m done writing.”

Gawain looked at the girl’s bright eyes. “You really like it here?”

“Mm.” Betty nodded hard, and then she thought for a moment and still nodded strongly. “I like it.”

“Why?”

“Because everyone is a good person. Miss Rebecca is. Madam Heidi is. There’s also you, Lord, and Miss Amber, and Sir Philip, and Sir Bryon, and everyone else working outside. Old Gordon, Old Hummel, Norris…” Betty counted on her fingers while she spoke as if she wanted to mention every single person whose name she could remember. Finally, because it was getting really hard to count, she then stopped. “Everyone is great, and everyone really likes this place too.”

“Does everyone like it too?”

“Mm! Everyone said it when we were chatting after completing our work. They said Lord was a… How do I say it again? A powerful and upright aristocrat lord. As long as it’s a promise that you put out, you will definitely fulfill it. And you can even go on the battlefield to protect everyone. Most importantly, you let everyone have enough to eat.”

Gawain did not continue the conversation.

The rations in the territory had yet to be self-supporting and self-sufficient. At present, both grain and meat, or other foodstuffs, were actually all being purchased from Tanzan Town. The money spent was their capital from the vault in the mountains. However, to those civilians who only hoped to have enough to eat, they did not think there was any difference in this.

Moreover, according to Norris, as long as they waited until Frost Month, the first batch of fast-growing crops could be swiftly harvested under the ripening of the druid spells. By then, food in the territory would no longer be a problem.

Allowing everyone to have ample food was enough to gather loyalty in this era.

Betty did not hear Gawain’s response, but she wasn’t bothered either because she had bowed her head again and started practicing her writing. Watching the girl who looked absorbed, Gawain suddenly asked very solemnly, “Betty, do you wish to go to school?”

The little maidservant was stunned for a moment. “Go to school? To learn what?”

“Reading and writing, calculation, history, or possibly even… runes and magic circles,” Gawain said slowly. “Runes and magic that laymen can also learn. Trust me, there will be.”

Betty gave it some careful thought and then dropped her head. “I can’t learn. They said I’m very stupid.”

“But do you want to learn?”

“…I do, but who would cook?”

“You can learn in your spare time. For example, two hours before you go to bed at night.” Gawain smiled. “So long as you want to learn, you will always have the time.”

This time, all that was left of Betty was her nodding her head.

However, the two did not continue on this topic because it was soon time to prepare dinner. As the cook, once Betty heard the ringing of brass bells outside, she quickly stood up, put her small tree branch away, bowed to Gawain, and dashed out.

Only until Betty’s figure disappeared past the tent’s portiere did Gawain tilt his head slightly to look towards the seemingly empty area by the tent mast and said, “Come out. How long are you planning to stay there for?”

The air there contorted slightly, and Amber’s figure emerged out of thin air. She leaned on the mast of the tent, utter surprise on her face. “How did you notice me? How long did you know I was here?”

“I’d seen you since you started leaning on the mast and made funny faces at me.” Gawain snappily rolled his eyes at this half-elf. “I know you’re very confident about your stealth skills, but standing so carelessly in a spot less than three meters from me in broad daylight without using the shadows to conceal yourself is quite an insult to my intelligence, alright? Did you think that a knight’s senses were that poor?”

“Psh, I thought you were completely focused on teaching that girl to write that you wouldn’t take notice of this side at all,” Amber pursed her lips and muttered. Then, her body swayed, and she was already seated on the desk beside Gawain. Following that, she simply sat there without a word, only keeping her eyes fixed on Gawain. Before long, the latter was flooded with goosebumps from her gaze.

“What are you looking at?” Gawain could not help but ask. “Is there something on my face?”

“You’re really an odd… aristocrat,” Amber suddenly blurted without rhyme or reason.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” Miss Half-elf waved her hand. “I’m just curious. Previously, you said that you wanted everyone to be able to read and count… Turns out you weren’t joking?”

“Why should I joke?” Gawain chuckled. “Not only am I not joking, but I also want you to go get Heidi and Rebecca here right now. I want to discuss this matter with them.”

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